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 THE 
 
 OLD CURIOSITY SHOP, 
 
 BY CHARLES DICKENS, 
 
 FROM A PAINTING BY GEORGE CATTERMOLE. 
 
 LONDON: 
 CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY. 
 
 1853.
 
 LONDON : 
 BBADBURT AND EVANS, PRINTERS WHITEFRURS. 

 
 DEDICATED 
 
 SAMUEL EOGEES.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IN April, 1840, I issued the first number of a new weekly 
 publication, price three pence, called MASTER HUMPHREY'S CLOCK. 
 It was intended to consist, for the most part, of detached papers, 
 but was to include one continuous story, to be resumed, from 
 time to time, with such indefinite intervals between each period of 
 resumption as might best accord with the exigencies and capabilities 
 of the proposed Miscellany. 
 
 The first chapter of this tale appeared in the fourth number of 
 MASTER HUMPHREY'S CLOCK, when I had already been made uneasy by 
 the desultory character of that work, and when, I believe, my readers 
 had thoroughly participated in the feeling. The commencement of a 
 story was a great satisfaction to me, and I had reason to believe 
 that my readers participated in this feeling too. Hence, being 
 pledged to some interruptions and some pursuit of the original design, 
 I set cheerfully about disentangling myself from those impediments as 
 fast as I could; and, that done, from that time until its completion 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP was written and published from week to 
 week, in weekly parts. 
 
 When the story was finished, that it might be freed from the incum* 
 brance of associations and interruptions with which it had no kind of
 
 vi PREFACE. 
 
 concern, I caused the few sheets of MASTER HUMPHREY'S CLOCK, which 
 had been printed in connexion with it, to be cancelled ; and, like the 
 unfinished tale of the windy night and the notary in The Sentimental 
 Journey, they became the property of the trunkmaker and the butter- 
 man. I was especially unwilling, I confess, to enrich those respectable 
 trades with the opening paper of the abandoned design, in which MASTER 
 HUMPHREY described himself and his manner of life. Though I now 
 affect to make the confession philosophically, as referring to a bye-gone 
 emotion, I am conscious that my pen winces a little even while I write 
 these words. But it was done, and wisely done, and MASTER HUM- 
 PHREY'S CLOCK, as originally constructed, became one of the lost books 
 of the earth which, we all know, are far more precious than any 
 that can be read for love or money. 
 
 In reference to the tale itself, I desire to say very little here. The 
 many friends it has won me, and the many hearts it has turned to me 
 when they have been full of private sorrow, invest it with an interest, 
 in my mind, which is not a public one, and the rightful place of which 
 appears to be " a more removed ground." 
 
 I will merely observe, therefore, that, in writing the book, I had it 
 always in my fancy to surround the lonely figure of the child with 
 grotesque and wild, but not impossible companions, and to gather 
 about her innocent face and pure intentions, associates as strange and 
 uncongenial as the grim objects that are about her bed when her 
 history is first foreshadowed. 
 
 MASTER HUMPHREY (before his devotion to the trunk and butter 
 business) was originally supposed to be the narrator of the story. As 
 it was constructed from the beginning, however, with a view to 
 separate publication when completed, his demise has not involved the 
 a-ecessity of any alteration,
 
 PREFACE. vii 
 
 I have a mournful pride in one recollection associated with " little 
 Nell." While she was yet upon her wanderings, not then concluded, 
 there appeared in a literary journal, an essay of which she was the 
 principal theme, so earnestly, so eloquently, and tenderly appre- 
 ciative of her, and of all her shadowy kith and kin, that it would 
 have been insensibility in me, if I could have read it without an 
 unusual glow of pleasure and encouragement. Long afterwards, and 
 when I had come to know him well, and to see him, stout of heart, 
 going slowly down into his grave, I knew the writer of that essay to be 
 THOMAS HOOD. 
 
 LONDON, 
 September, 1848.
 
 THE 
 
 OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ALTHOUGH I am an old man, night 
 is generally my time for walking. Tn 
 the summer I often leave home early 
 in the morning, and roam about fields 
 and lanes all day, or even escape for 
 days or weeks together; but, saving 
 in the country, I seldom go out until 
 after dark, though, Heaven be thanked, 
 I love its light and feel the cheerful- 
 ness it sheds upon the earth, as much 
 as any creature living. 
 
 I have fallen insensibly into this 
 habit, both because it favours my 
 infirmity, and because it affords me 
 greater opportunity of speculating on 
 the characters and occupations of those 
 who fill the streets. The glare and 
 hurry of broad noon are not adapted 
 to idle pursuits like mine ; a glimpse 
 of passing faces caught by the light of 
 a street lamp, or a shop window, is 
 often better for my purpose than their 
 full revelation in the daylight ; and, if 
 I must add the truth, night is lander 
 in this respect than day, which too 
 often destroys an air-built castle at the 
 moment of its completion, without the 
 least ceremony or remorse. 
 
 That constant pacing to and fro, 
 that never-ending restlessness, that 
 incessant tread of feet wearing the 
 rough stones smooth and glossy is it 
 not a wonder how the dwellers in 
 narrow ways can bear to hear it ! 
 Think of a sick man, in such a place 
 as Saint Martin's Court, listening to 
 the footsteps, and, in the midst of pain 
 
 No. 64. 
 
 and weariness, obliged, despite himself 
 (as though it were a task he must per- 
 form) to detect the child's step from 
 the man's, the slipshod beggar from 
 the booted exquisite, the lounging 
 from the busy, the dull heel of the 
 sauntering outcast from the quick 
 tread of an expectant pleasure-seeker 
 think of the hum and noise being 
 always present to his senses, and of 
 the stream of life that will not stop, 
 pouring on, on, on, through all his 
 restless dreams, as if he were con- 
 demned to lie, dead but conscious, in a 
 noisy churchyard, and had no hope of 
 rest for centuries to come ! 
 
 Then, the crowds for ever passing 
 and repassing on the bridges (on those 
 which are free of toll at least) where 
 many stop on fine evenings looking 
 listlessly down upon the water, with 
 some vague idea that by-and-by it 
 runs between green banks which grow 
 wider and wider until at last it joins 
 the broad vast sea where some halt 
 to rest from heavy loads, and think, as 
 they look over the parapet, that to 
 smoke and lounge away one's life, and 
 lie sleeping in the sun upon a hot tar- 
 paulin, in a dull, slow, sluggish barge, 
 must be happiness unalloyed and 
 where some, and a very different class, 
 pause with heavier loads than they, 
 remembering to have heard or read 
 in some old time that drowning was 
 not a hard death, but of all means of 
 suicide the easiest and best; 
 a 1
 
 2 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 Covent Garden Market at sunrise 
 too, in the spring or summer, when 
 the fragrance of sweet flowers is in the 
 air, overpowering even the unwhole- 
 some steams of last night's debauchery, 
 and driving the dusky thrush, whose 
 cage has hung outside a garret window 
 all night long, half mad with joy ! 
 Poor bird ! the only neighbouring 
 thing at all akin to the other little 
 captives, some of whom, shrinking 
 from the hot hands of drunken pur- 
 chasers, lie drooping on the path 
 already, while others, soddened by 
 close contact, await the time when 
 they shall be watered and freshened 
 up to please more sober company, and 
 make old clerks who pass them on 
 their road to business, wonder what 
 has filled their breasts with visions of 
 the country. 
 
 But my present purpose is not to 
 expatiate upon my walks. The story 
 I am about to relate, arose out of 
 one of these rambles ; and thus I have 
 been led to speak of them by way of 
 preface. 
 
 One night, I had roamed into the 
 city, and was walking slowly on in my 
 usual way, musing upon a great many 
 things, when I was arrested by an 
 inquiry, the purport of which did not 
 reach me, but which seemed to be 
 addressed to myself, and was pre- 
 ferred in a soft sweet voice that struck 
 me very pleasantly. I turned hastily 
 round, and found at my elbow a pretty 
 little girl, who begged to be directed 
 to a certain street at a considerable 
 distance, and indeed in quite another 
 quarter of the town. 
 
 " It is a very long way from here," 
 said I, " my child." 
 
 " I know that, sir," she replied 
 timidly. " I am afraid it is a very 
 long way ; for I came from there, to- 
 night." 
 
 " Alone ? " said I, in some surprise. 
 
 " Oh yes, I don't mind that, but I 
 am a little frightened now, for I have 
 lost my road." 
 
 " And what made you ask it t of me ? 
 Suppose I should tell you wrong." 
 
 " I am sure you will not do that," 
 said the little creature, " you are such 
 
 a very old gentleman, and walk so slow 
 yourself." 
 
 I cannot describe how much I was 
 impressed by this appeal, and the energy 
 with which it was made, which brought 
 a tear into the child's clear eye, and 
 made her slight figure tremble as she 
 looked up into my face. 
 
 "Come," said I, "I'll take you 
 there." 
 
 She put her hand in mine, as confi- 
 dingly as if she had known me from 
 her cradle, and we trudged away 
 together : the little creature accom- 
 modating her pace to mine, and rather 
 seeming to lead and take care of me 
 than I to be protecting her. I observed 
 that every now and then she stole a 
 curious look at my face as if to make 
 quite sure that I was not deceiving 
 her, and that these glances (very sharp 
 and keen they were too) seemed to 
 increase her confidence at every repe- 
 tition. 
 
 For my part, my curiosity and in- 
 terest were, at least, equal to the child's ; 
 for child she certainly was, although I 
 thought it probable from what I could 
 make out, that her very small and deli- 
 cate frame imparted a peculiar youth- 
 fulness to her appearance. Though 
 more scantily attired than she might 
 have been, she was dressed with per- 
 fect neatness, and betrayed no marks 
 of poverty or neglect. 
 
 " Who has sent you so far by your- 
 self ? " said I. 
 
 " Somebody who is very kind to me, 
 sir." 
 
 " And what have you been doing ? " 
 
 " That, I must not tell," said the 
 child. 
 
 There was something in the manner 
 of this reply which caused me to look 
 at the little creature with an involun- 
 tary expression of surprise ; for I 
 wondered what kind of errand it might 
 be, that occasioned her to be prepared 
 for questioning. Her quick eye seemed 
 to read my thoughts. As it met mine, 
 she added that there was no harm 
 in what she had been doing, but it was 
 a great secret a secret which she 
 did not even know, herself. 
 
 This was said with no appearance
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 of cunning or deceit, but with an un- 
 suspicious frankness that bore the 
 impress of truth. She walked on, as 
 before : growing more familiar with 
 me as we proceeded, and talking 
 cheerfully by the way, but she said 
 no more about her home, Jbeyond 
 remarking that we were going quite 
 a new road and asking if it were a 
 short one. 
 
 While we were thus engaged, I 
 revolved in my mind a hundred dif- 
 ferent explanations of the riddle, and 
 rejected them every one. I really felt 
 ashamed to take advantage of the in- 
 genuousness or grateful feeling of the 
 child, for the purpose of gratifying my 
 curiosity. I love these little people ; 
 and it is not a slight thing when they, 
 who are so fresh from God, love us. 
 As I had felt pleased, at first, by her 
 confidence, I determined to deserve it, 
 and to do credit to the nature which 
 had prompted her to repose it in 
 me. 
 
 There was no reason, however, why 
 I should refrain from seeing the per- 
 son who had inconsiderately sent her 
 to so great a distance by night and 
 alone; and ? as it was not improbable 
 that if she found herself near home 
 she might take farewell of me and 
 deprive me of the opportunity, I 
 avoided the most frequented ways 
 and took the most intricate. Thus it 
 was not until we arrived in the street 
 itself that she knew where we were. 
 Clspping .her hands with pleasure, and 
 running on before me for a short dis- 
 tance, my little acquaintance stopped 
 at a door, and remaining on the step 
 till I came up, knocked at it when I 
 joined her. 
 
 A part of this door was of glass, un- 
 protected by any shutter; which I did 
 not observe, at first, for all was very 
 dark and silent within, and I was 
 anxious (as indeed the child was also) 
 for an answer to" our summons. When 
 she had knocked twice or thrice, there 
 was a noise as if some person were 
 moving inside, and at length a faint 
 light appeared through the glass which, 
 as it approached very slowly the 
 bearer bavins to make his way through 
 
 a great many scattered articles en- 
 abled me to see, both what kind of 
 person it was who advanced, and what 
 kind of place it was through which he 
 came. 
 
 He was a little old man with long 
 grey hair, whose face and figure, as he 
 held the light above his head and 
 looked before him as he approached, 
 I could plainly see. Though much 
 altered by age, I fancied I could recog- 
 nise in his spare and slender form 
 something of that delicate mould which 
 I had noticed in the child. Then? 
 bright blue eyes were certainly alike, 
 but his face was so deeply furrowed, 
 and so very full of care, that here all 
 resemblance ceased. 
 
 The place through which he made 
 his way at leisure, was one of those 
 receptacles for old and curious things 
 which seem to crouch in odd corners 
 of this town, and to hide their musty 
 treasures from the public eye in 
 jealousy and distrust. There were 
 suits of mail, standing like ghosts in 
 armour, here and there ; fantastic carv- 
 ings brought from monkish cloisters; 
 rusty weapons of various kinds; dis- 
 torted figures in china, and wood, and 
 iron; and ivory; tapestry and strange 
 furniture that might have been de- 
 signed in dreams. The haggard aspect 
 of the little old man was wonderfully 
 suited to the place ; he might have 
 groped among old churches, and tombs, 
 and deserted houses, and gathered all 
 the spoils with his own hands. There 
 was nothing in the whole collection 
 but was in keeping Vith himself ; 
 nothing that looked older or more 
 worn man he. 
 
 As he turned the key in the lock, 
 he surveyed me with some astonish- 
 ment, which was not diminished when 
 he looked from me to my companion. 
 The door being opened, the child ad- 
 dressed him as Tier grandfather, and 
 told him the little story of our com- 
 panionship. 
 
 " Why bless thee, child," said the 
 old man patting her on the head, 
 "how couldst thou miss thy way 
 what if I had lost thee, Nell ! '" 
 
 " I wonld have found ray way bnek 
 B2
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 to you, grandfather," said the child 
 boldly ; " never fear." 
 
 The old man kissed her ; then 
 turned to me and begged me to walk 
 in. I did so. The door was closed and 
 locked. Preceding me with the light, 
 he led me through the place I had 
 already seen from without, into a small 
 sitting room behind, in which was 
 another door opening into a kind of 
 closet, where I saw a little bed that a 
 fairy might have slept in : it looked 
 so very small and was so prettily 
 arranged. The child took a candle 
 and tripped into this little room, leav- 
 ing the old man and me together. 
 
 "You must be tired, sir," said he 
 as he placed a chair near the fire, 
 " how can I thank you ? " 
 
 "By taking more care of your 
 grandchild another tune, my good 
 friend," I replied. 
 
 " More care ! " said the old man in 
 a shrill voice, "more care of Nelly ! 
 why who ever loved a child as I love 
 Nell ? " 
 
 He said this, with such evident sur- 
 prise, that I was perplexed what 
 answer to make ; the more so, be- 
 cause coupled with something feeble 
 and wandering in his manner, there 
 were, in his face, marks of deep and 
 anxious thought which convinced me 
 that he could not be, as I had been at 
 first inclined to suppose, in a state of 
 dotage or imbecility. 
 
 "I don't think you consider " I 
 began. 
 
 " I don't consider ! " cried the old 
 man interrupting me, "I don't con- 
 sider her ! ah how little you know of 
 the truth ! Little Nelly, little Nelly !" 
 
 It would be impossible for any man, 
 I care not what his form of speech 
 might be to express more affection 
 than the dealer in curiosities did, in 
 these four words. I waited for him to 
 speak again, but he rested his chin 
 upon his hand, and shaking his head 
 twice or thrice fixed his eyes upon the 
 fire. 
 
 While we were sitting thus, in 
 silence, the door of the closet opened, 
 and the child returned : her light 
 lirown hair hanging loose about her 
 
 neck, and her face flusned with the 
 haste she had made to rejoin us. She 
 busied herself, immediately, in pre- 
 paring supper. While she was thus 
 engaged I remarked that the old man 
 took an opportunity of observing me 
 more closely than he had done yet. 
 I was surprised to see, that, all this 
 time, everything was done by the child, 
 and that there appeared to be no other 
 persons but ourselves in the house. 
 I took advantage of a moment when 
 she was absent to venture a hint on 
 this point, to which the old man 
 replied that there were few grown 
 persons as trustworthy or as careful 
 as she. 
 
 " It always grieves me," I observed, 
 roused by what I took to be his sel- 
 fishness : " it always grieves me to 
 contemplate the initiation of children 
 into the ways of life, when they are 
 scarcely more than infants. It checks 
 their confidence and simplicity two 
 of the best qualities that Heaven gives 
 them and demands that they share 
 our sorrows before they are capable of 
 entering into our enjoyments." 
 
 " It will never check hers," said the 
 old man looking steadily at me, " the 
 springs are too deep. Besides, the 
 children of the poor know but few 
 pleasures. Even the cheap delights of 
 childhood must be bought and paid for." 
 
 " But forgive me for saying this 
 you are surely not so very poor" 
 said I. 
 
 " She is not my child, sir," returned 
 the old man. " Her mother was, and 
 she was poor. I save nothing not a 
 penny though I live as you see, but" 
 he laid his hand upon my arm and 
 leant forward to whisper " she shall 
 be rich one of these days, and a fine 
 lady. Don't you think ill of me, be- 
 cause I use her help. She gives it 
 cheerfully as you see, and it would 
 break her heart if she knew that I 
 suffered anybody else to do for me 
 what her little hands could undertake. 
 I don't consider ! " he cried with 
 sudden querulousness, "why, God 
 knows that this one child is the thought 
 and object of my life, and yet he never 
 prospers me no, never !"
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 At this juncture, the subject of our 
 conversation again returned, and the 
 old man motioning to me to approach 
 the table, broke off, and said no more. 
 
 We had scarcely begun our repast 
 when there was a knock at the door 
 by which I had entered ; and Nell : 
 bursting into a hearty laugh, which I 
 was rejoiced to hear, for it was child- 
 like and full of hilarity : said it was no 
 doubt dear old Kit come back at last. 
 
 " Foolish Nell ! " said the old man 
 fondling with her hair. " She always 
 laughs at poor Kit." 
 
 The child laughed again more 
 heartily than before, and I could not 
 help smiling from pure sympathy. 
 The little old man took up a candle 
 and went to open the door. When he 
 came back, Kit was at his heels. 
 
 Kit was a shock-headed shambling 
 awkward lad with an uncommonly 
 wide mouth, very red cheeks, a turned- 
 up nose, and certainly the most 
 comical expression of face I ever saw. 
 He stopped short at the door on seeing 
 a stranger, twirled in his hand a per- 
 fectly round old hat without any 
 vestige of a brim, and, resting himself 
 now on one leg, and now on the other, 
 and changing them constantly, stood 
 in the doorway, looking into the par- 
 lour with the most extraordinary leer 
 I ever beheld. I entertained a grate- 
 ful feeling towards the boy from that 
 minute, for I felt that he was the 
 comedy of the child's life. 
 
 " A long way, wasn't it, Kit ! " said 
 the little old man. 
 
 " Why then, it was a goodish stretch, 
 master," returned Kit. 
 
 " Did you find the house easily ? " 
 
 "Why then, not over and above 
 easy, master," said Kit. 
 
 "Of course you have come back 
 hungry ! " 
 
 "Why then, I do consider myself 
 rather so, master," was the answer. 
 
 The lad had a remarkable manner 
 of standing sideways as he spoke, and 
 thrusting his head forward over his 
 shoulder, as if he could not get at his 
 voice without that accompanying ac- 
 tion. I think he would have amused 
 one anywhere, but the child's exquisite 
 
 enjoyment of his oddity, and the relief 
 it was to find that there was something 
 she associated with merriment, hi a 
 place that appeared so unsuited to her, 
 were quite irresistible. It was a great 
 point, too, that Kit himself was flat- 
 tered by the sensation he created, and 
 after several efforts to preserve his 
 gravity, burst into a loud roar, and so 
 stood with his mouth wide open and 
 his eyes nearly shut, laughing violently. 
 
 The old man had again relapsed 
 into his former abstraction and took 
 no notice of what passed ; but I re- 
 marked that when her laugh was over, 
 the child's bright eyes were dimmed 
 with tears, called forth by the fulness 
 of heart with which she welcomed her 
 uncouth favourite after the little 
 anxiety of the night As for Kit him- 
 self (whose laugh had been all the 
 time one of that sort which very little 
 would change into a cry) he carried a 
 large slice of bread and meat, and a 
 mug of beer, into a corner, and applied 
 himself to disposing of them with 
 great voracity. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the old man turning to 
 me with a sigh as if I had spoken to 
 him but that moment, "you don't 
 know what you say, when you tell me 
 that I don't consider her." 
 
 " You must not attach too great 
 weight to a remark founded on first 
 appearances, my friend," said I. 
 
 " No," returned the old man thought- 
 fully, " no. Come hither, Nell." 
 
 The little girl hastened from her seat, 
 and put her arm about his neck. 
 
 "Do I love thee, Nell ?" said he. 
 " Say do I love thee, Nell, or no * " 
 
 The child only answered by her 
 caresses, and laid her head upon his 
 breast. 
 
 " Why dost thou sob," said the 
 grandfather pressing her closer to him 
 and glancing towards me. "Is it 
 because thou know'st I love thee, and 
 dost not like that I should seem to 
 doubt it by my question ? Well, well 
 then let us say I love thee dearly." 
 
 "Indeed, indeed you do," replied 
 the child with great earnestness, " Kit 
 knows you do." 
 
 Kit, who in despatching his bread
 
 I 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 and meat had been swallowing two 
 thirds of his knife at every mouthful 
 with the coolness of a juggler, stopped 
 short hi his operations on being thus 
 appealed to, and bawled " Nobody 
 isn't such a fool as to say he doosn't," 
 after which he incapacitated himself 
 for further conversation by taking a 
 most prodigious sandwich at one bite. 
 
 "She is poor now," said the old man 
 patting the child's cheek, " but, I say 
 again, the time is coming when she 
 shall be rich. It has been a long time 
 coming, but it must come at last; 
 a very long tune, but it surely must 
 come. It has come to other men who 
 do nothing but waste and riot When 
 will it come to me ! " 
 
 " I am very happy as I am, grand- 
 father," said the child. 
 
 " Tush, tush ! " returned the old 
 man, " thou dost not know how 
 should'st thou ! " Then he muttered 
 again between his teeth, " The time 
 must come, I am very sure it must. 
 It will be all the better for coming 
 late ; " and then he sighed and fell 
 into his former musing state, and still 
 holding the child between his knees 
 appeared to be insensible to everything 
 around him. By this time it wanted 
 but a few minutes of midnight and I 
 rose to go: which recalled him to 
 himself. 
 
 " One moment, sir," he said. " Now 
 Kit near midnight, boy, and you still 
 here ! Get home, get home, and be 
 true to your time in the morning, for 
 there 'a work to do. Good night ! 
 There, bid him good night, Nell, and 
 let him be gone ! " 
 
 " Good night, Kit," said the child, 
 her eyes lighting up with merriment 
 and kindness. 
 
 " Good night, Miss Nell," returned 
 the boy. 
 
 And thank this gentleman," inter- 
 posed the old man, " but for whose 
 care I might have lost my little girl 
 to-night." 
 
 " No, no, master," said Kit, " that 
 won't do, that won't." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " cried the 
 old man. 
 
 "/'d have found her, master," said 
 
 Kit, I 'd have found her. 1 'd bet 
 that I 'd find her if she was above 
 ground. I would, as quick as anybody, 
 master! Ha ha ha ! " 
 
 Once more opening his mouth and 
 shutting his eyes, and laughing like a 
 steutor, Kit gradually backed to the 
 door, and roared himself out. 
 
 Free of the room, the boy was not 
 slow in taking his departure ; when he 
 had gone, and the child was occupied in 
 clearing the table, the old man said : 
 
 " I haven't seemed to thank you, sir, 
 enough for what you have done to- 
 night, but I do thank you, humbly and 
 heartily; and so does she; and her 
 thanks are better worth than mine. 1 
 should be sorry that you went away 
 and thought I was unmindful of your 
 goodness, or careless of her I am not 
 indeed." 
 
 I was sure of that, I said, from what 
 I had seen. " But," I added, " may I 
 ask you a question 1 " 
 
 "Ay sir," replied the old man, 
 " what is it " 
 
 This delicate child," said I, "with 
 so much beauty and intelligence has 
 she nobody to care for her but you? 
 Has she no other companion or 
 adviser ! " 
 
 " No," he returned looking anxiously 
 in my face, "no, and she wants no 
 other." 
 
 " But are you not fearful," said I, 
 " that you may misunderstand a charge 
 so tender ? I am sure you mean well, 
 but are you quite certain that you 
 know how to execute such a trust as 
 this 1 1 am an old man, h'ke you, and 
 I am actuated by an old man's concern 
 in all that is young and promising. Do 
 you not think that what I have seen of 
 you and this little creature to-night, 
 must have an interest not wholly free 
 from pain ? " 
 
 " Sir," rejoined the old man after a 
 moment's silence, " I have no right to 
 feel hurt at what you say. It is true 
 that in many respects I am the child, 
 and she the grown person that you 
 have seen already. But, waking or 
 sleeping, by night or day, in sickness 
 or health, she is the one object of my 
 care; and if you knew of how much
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP 
 
 care, you would look on me with dif- 
 ferent eyes, you would indeed. Ah ! 
 it's a weary life for an old luan a 
 weary, weary, life but there is a 
 great end to gain, and that I keep 
 before me." 
 
 Seeing that he was in a state of ex- 
 citement and impatience, I turned to 
 put on an outer coat which I had 
 thrown off, "on entering the room: 
 purposing to say no more. I was 
 surprised to see the child standing 
 patiently by, with a cloak upon her 
 arm, and in her hand a hat and stick. 
 
 " Those are not mine, my dear," 
 said I. 
 
 "No," returned the child quietly, 
 " they are grandfather's." 
 
 " But he is not going out to-night." 
 
 " Oh yes he is," said the child, with 
 a smile. 
 
 " And what becomes of you, my 
 pretty one ? " 
 
 " Me ! I stay here of course. I 
 always do." 
 
 I looked in astonishment towards 
 the old man ; but he was, or feigned to 
 be, busied in the arrangement of his 
 dress. From him, I looked back to 
 the slight gentle figure of the child. 
 Alone ! In that gloomy place all the 
 long, dreary night ! 
 
 She evinced no consciousness of my 
 surprise, but cheerfully helped the old 
 man with his cloak, and, when he was 
 ready, took a candle to light us out. 
 Finding that we did not follow as she 
 expected, she looked back with a smile 
 and waited for us. The old man 
 showed by his face that he plainly 
 understood the cause of my hesitation, 
 but he merely signed to me with an 
 inclination of the head to pass out of 
 the room before him, and remained 
 silent. I had no resource but to 
 comply. 
 
 When we reached the door, the child 
 setting down the candle, turned to 
 say good night and raised her face to 
 kiss me. Then, she ran to the old 
 man, who folded her in his arms and 
 bade God bless her. 
 
 " Sleep soundly, Nell," he said in a 
 low voice, "and angels guard thy bed! 
 Do not forget thy prayers, my sweet." 
 
 "No indeed," answered the child 
 fervently, "they make me feel so 
 happy!" 
 
 " That's well ; I know they do ; 
 they should," said the old man. " Bless 
 thee a hundred times ! Early in the 
 morning I shall be home." 
 
 * You'll not ring twice," returned 
 the child. " The bell wakes me, even 
 in the middle of a dream." 
 
 With this, they separated. The 
 child opened the door (now guarded 
 by a shutter which I had heard the 
 boy put up before he left the house) 
 and with another farewell, whose clear 
 and tender note I have recalled a 
 thousand times, held it until we had 
 passed out. The old man paused a 
 moment while it was gently closed and 
 fastened on the inside, and, satisfied 
 that this was done, walked on at a 
 slow pace. At the street-corner he 
 stopped. Regarding me with a troubled 
 countenance, he said that our ways 
 were widely different, and that he 
 must take his leave. I would have 
 spoken, but .summoning up inure 
 alacrity than might have been ex- 
 pected in one of his appearance, he 
 hurried away. I could see, that, twice 
 or thrice, he looked back as if to 
 ascertain if I were still watching him, 
 or perhaps to assure himself that I 
 was not following, at a distance. The 
 obscurity of the night favoured his 
 disappearance, and his figure was soon 
 beyond my sight. 
 
 I remained standing on the spot 
 where he had left me: unwilling to 
 depart, and yet unknowing why I 
 should loiter there. I looked wistfully 
 into the street we had lately quitted, 
 and, after a tune, directed my steps 
 that way. I passed and repassed the 
 house, and stopped and listened at the 
 door ; all was dark, and silent as the 
 grave. 
 
 Yet I lingered about, and could not 
 tear myself away: thinking of all pos- 
 sible harm Unit might happen to the 
 child of fires, and robberies, and even 
 murder and feeling as if some evil 
 must ensue if I turned my back upon 
 the place. The closing of a' door or 
 window in the street, brought me
 
 8 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 before the curiosity-dealer's once 
 more. I crossed the road, and looked 
 up at the house, to assure myself that 
 the noise had not come from there. 
 No, it was black, cold, and lifeless as 
 before. 
 
 There were few passengers astir ; 
 the street was sad and dismal, and 
 pretty well my own. A few stragglers 
 from the theatres hurried by, and, 
 now and then, I turned aside to avoid 
 some noisy drunkard as he reeled 
 homewards ; but these interruptions 
 were not frequent and soon ceased. 
 The clocks struck one. Still I paced 
 up and down, promising myself that 
 every time should be the last, and 
 breaking faith with myself on some 
 new plea, as often as I did so. 
 
 The more I thought of what the old 
 man had said, and of his looks and 
 bearing, the less I could account for 
 what I had seen and heard. I had a 
 strong misgiving that his nightly 
 absence was for no good purpose. I 
 had only come to know the fact 
 through the innocence of the child; 
 and, though the old man was by at the 
 time and saw my undisguised surprise, 
 he had preserved a strange mystery 
 on the subject and offered no word 
 of explanation. These reflections 
 naturally recalled again, more strongly 
 than before, his haggard face, his 
 wandering manner, his restless anxious 
 looks. His affection for the child 
 might not be inconsistent with villany 
 of the worst kind ; even that very 
 affection was, in itself, an extraordinary 
 contradiction, or how could he leave 
 her thus ? Disposed as I was to think 
 badly of him, 1 never doubted that his 
 love for her was real. I could not 
 admit the thought, remembering what 
 had passed between us, and the tone 
 of voice in which he had called her by 
 her name. 
 
 "Stay here of course," the child 
 had said in answer to my question, 
 "I always do !" What could take him 
 from home by night, and every night ! 
 I called up all the strange tales I had 
 ever heard, of dark and secret deeds 
 committed in great towns and escaping 
 detection for a long series of years. 
 
 Wild as many of these stories were, I 
 could not find one adapted to this 
 mystery, which only became the more 
 impenetrable, in proportion as I sought 
 to solve it. 
 
 Occupied with such thoughts as 
 these, and a crowd of others all tending 
 to the same point, I continued to pace 
 the street for two long hours ; at 
 length, the rain began to descend 
 heavily; and then, overpowered by 
 fatigue though no less interested than 
 I had been at first, I engaged the 
 nearest coach and so got home. A 
 cheerful fire was blazing on the hearth, 
 the lamp burnt brightly, my clock 
 received me with its old familiar wel- 
 come ; everything was quiet, warm, 
 and cheering, and in happy contrast 
 to the gloom and darkness I had 
 quitted. 
 
 I sat down in my easy-chair, and 
 falling back upon its ample cushions, 
 pictured to myself the child in her 
 bed : alone, unwatched, uncared for, 
 (save by angels,) yet sleeping peace- 
 fully.' So very young, so spiritual, so 
 slight and fairy-like a creature passing 
 the long dull nights in such an uncon- 
 genial place I could not dismiss it 
 from my thoughts. 
 
 We are so much in the habit of 
 allowing impressions to be made upon 
 us by external objects, which should 
 be produced by reflection alone, but 
 which, without such visible aids, often 
 escape us, that I am not sure I should 
 have been so thoroughly possessed 
 by this one subject, but for the heaps 
 of fantastic things I had seen hud- 
 dled together in the curiosity-dealer's 
 warehouse. These, crowding on my 
 mind, in connection with the child, 
 and gathering round her, as it were, 
 brought her condition palpably before 
 me. I had her image, without any 
 effort of imagination, surrounded and 
 beset by everything that was foreign 
 to its nature, and farthest removed 
 from the sympathies of her sex and 
 age. If these helps to my fancy had 
 all been wanting, and I had been 
 forced to imagine her in a common 
 chamber, with nothing unusual or 
 | uncouth in its appearance, it is very
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 probable that I should have Been less j great pace, and I already saw before 
 
 impressed with her strange and solitary 
 
 state. As it was, she seemed to exist 
 
 in a kind of allegory ; and, having 
 
 these shapes about her, claimed my 
 
 interest so strongly, that (as I have 
 
 already remarked) I could not dismiss 
 
 her from my recollection, do what I 
 
 would. 
 
 " It would be a curious speculation," 
 said I, after some restless turns across 
 and across the room, " to imagine her 
 in her future life, holding her solitary 
 way among a crowd of wild grotesque 
 companions : the only pure, fresh, 
 
 youthful object in the throng. It 
 
 would be curious to find ** 
 
 I checked myself here, for the theme 
 was carrying me along with it at a 
 
 me a region on which I was little dis- 
 posed to enter. I agreed with myself 
 that this was idle musing, and resolved 
 to go to bed, and court forgetfulness. 
 
 But, all that night, waking or in my 
 sleep, the same thoughts recurred, and 
 the same images retained possession of 
 my brain. I had, ever before me, the 
 old dark murky rooms the gaunt 
 suits of mail with their ghostly silent 
 air the faces all awry, grinning from 
 wood and stone the dust, and rust, 
 and worm that lives in wood and 
 alone in the midst of all this lumber 
 and decay and ugly age, the beautiful 
 child in her gentle slumber, smiling 
 through her light and sunny dreams. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AFTER combating, for nearly a week, 
 the feeling which impelled me to re- 
 visit the place I had quitted under 
 the circumstances already detailed, I 
 yielded to it at length ; and deter- 
 mining that this time I would present 
 myself by the light of day, bent my 
 steps thither early in the afternoon. 
 
 I walked past the house, and took 
 several turns in the street, with that 
 kind of hesitation which is natural to 
 a man who is conscious that the visit 
 he is about to pay is unexpected, and 
 may not be very acceptable. How- 
 ever, as the door of the shop was shut, 
 and it did not appear likely that I 
 should be recognised by those within, 
 if I continued merely to pass up and 
 down before it, I soon conquered this 
 irresolution, and found myself in the- 
 Curiosity Dealer's warehouse. 
 
 The old man and another person 
 were together in the back part, and 
 there seemed to have been high words 
 between them, for their voices which 
 were raised to a very loud pitch sud- 
 denly stopped on my entering, and the 
 old man advancing hastily towards me, I 
 
 said in a tremulous tone that he was 
 very glad I had come. 
 
 "You interrupted us at a critical 
 moment," he said, pointing to the man 
 whom I had found in company with 
 him ; " this fellow will murder me one 
 of these days. He would have done 
 so, long ago, if he had dared." 
 
 " Bah ! You would swear away 
 my life if you could," returned the 
 other, after bestowing a stare and a 
 frown on me ; " we aU know that ! " 
 
 " I almost think I could," cried the 
 old man, turning feebly upon him. " If 
 oaths, or prayers, or words, could rid 
 me of you, they should. I would be 
 quit of you, and would be relieved if 
 you were dead." 
 
 " I know it," returned the other. 
 " I said so, didn't I ? But neither 
 oaths, nor prayers, nor words, will kill 
 me, and therefore I live, and mean to 
 live." 
 
 " And his mother died ! " cried the 
 old man, passionately clasping his 
 hands and looking upward ; " and this 
 is Heaven's justice ! " 
 
 The other stood lounging with his
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 foot upon a chair, and regarded him 
 with a contemptuous sneer. He was 
 a young man of one-aiid-twenty or 
 thereabouts ; well made, and certainly 
 handsome, though the expression of 
 his face was far from prepossessing, 
 having in common with his manner 
 and even his dress, a dissipated, inso- 
 lent air which repelled one. 
 
 "Justice or no justice," said the 
 young fellow, " here I am and here I 
 shall stop till such time as I think fit 
 to go, unless you send for assistance to 
 put me out which you won't do, I 
 know. I tell you again that I want to 
 see my sister." 
 
 " Your sister ! " said the old man 
 bitterly. 
 
 ' " Ah ! You can't change the rela- 
 tionship," returned the other. "If 
 you could, you 'd have done it long ago. 
 I want to see my sister, that you keep 
 cooped up here, poisoning her mind 
 with your sly secrets and pretending 
 an affection for her that you may 
 work her to death, and add a few 
 scraped shillings every week to the 
 money you can hardly count. I want 
 to see her ; and I will." 
 
 "Here's a moralist to talk of poisoned 
 minds ! Here 's a generous spirit to 
 scorn scraped-up shillings ! " cried the 
 old man, turning from him to me. " A 
 profligate, sir, who has forfeited every 
 claim not only upon those who have 
 the misfortune to be of his blood, but 
 upon society which knows nothing of 
 him but his misdeeds. A liar too," 
 he added, in a. lower voice as he drew 
 closer to me, " who knows how dear 
 she is to me, and seeks to wound me 
 even there, because there is a stranger 
 by." 
 
 "Strangers are nothing to me, grand- 
 father," said the young fellow catch- 
 ing at the word, "nor I to them, I 
 hope. The best they can do, is to 
 keep an eye to their business and 
 leave me to mine. There's a friend 
 of mine waiting outeide, and as it 
 seems "that I may have to wait some 
 time, I'H call him in, with your leave." 
 
 Saying this, he stepped to the door, 
 and looking down the street beckoned 
 several times to some unseen person, 
 
 who, to ^udge from the air of impa- 
 tience with which these signals were 
 accompanied, required a great quantity 
 of persuasion to induce him to advance. 
 At length there sauntered up, on the 
 opposite side of the way with a bad 
 pretence of passing by accident a 
 figure conspicuous for its dirty smart- 
 ness, which after a great many frowns 
 and jerks of the head, in resistance of 
 the invitation, ultimately crossed the 
 road and was brought into the shop. 
 
 "There. It's Dick Swiveller," said 
 the young fellow, pushing him in. "Sit 
 down, Swiveller." 
 
 "But is the old mm agreeable 2" 
 said Mr. Swiveller in an under tone. 
 
 " Sit down," repeated his companion. 
 
 Mr. Swiveller complied, and looking 
 about him with a propitiatory smile, 
 observed that last week was a fine 
 week for the ducks, and this week was 
 a fine week for the dust ; he also 
 observed that while standing by the 
 post at the street corner, he had 
 observed a pig with a straw in his 
 mouth issuing out of the" tobacco-shop, 
 from which appearance he augured 
 that another fine week for the ducks 
 was approaching, and that rain would 
 certainly ensue. lie furthermore took 
 occasion to apologize for any negli- 
 gence that might be perceptible in his 
 dress, on the ground that last night he 
 had had " the sun very strong in his 
 eyes ;" by which expression he was 
 understood to convey to his hearers in 
 the most delicate manner possible, 
 the information that he had been ex- 
 tremely drunk. 
 
 "But what," said Mr. Swiveller 
 with a sigh, " what is the odds so long 
 as the fire of soul is kindled at the 
 taper of conwiviality, and the wing of 
 friendship never moults a feather ! 
 What is the odds so long as the spirit 
 is expanded by means of rosy wine, 
 and the present moment is the least 
 happiest of our existence !" 
 
 " You needn't act the chairman 
 here," said his friend, half aside. 
 
 "Fred!" cried Mr. Swiveller, tap- 
 ping his nose, " a word to the wise is 
 sufficient for them we may be good 
 and happy without riches, Fred. Say
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 II 
 
 not another syllable. I know my cue; 
 smart is the word. Only one little 
 whisper Fred is the old min 
 friendly ?' 
 
 "Never you inind," replied his 
 friend. 
 
 " Right again, quite right," said Mr. 
 Swiveller, " caution is the word, and 
 caution is the act." With that, he 
 winked as if in preservation of some 
 deep secret, and folding his arms and 
 leaning back in his chair, looked up at 
 the ceiling with profound gravity. 
 
 It was perhaps not very unreason- 
 able to suspect from what had already 
 passed, that Mr. Swiveller was not 
 quite recovered from the effects of the 
 powerful sunlight to which he had 
 made allusion ; but if no such sus- 
 picion had been awakened by his 
 speech, his wiry hair, dull eyes, and 
 sallow face, would still have been 
 strong witnesses against him. His 
 attire was not, as he had himself 
 hinted, remarkable for the nicest ar- 
 rangement, but was in a state of 
 disorder which strongly induced the 
 idea that he had gone to bed in it. It 
 consisted of a brown body-coat with a 
 great many brass buttons up the front 
 and only one behind, a bright check 
 neckerchief, a pla^d waistcoat, soiled 
 white trousers, and a very limp hat, 
 worn with the wrong side foremost, 
 to hide a hole in the brim. The 
 breast of bis coat was ornamented with 
 an outside pocket from which there 
 peeped forth the cleanest end of a 
 very large and very ill-favoured hand- 
 kerchief ; his dirty wristbands were 
 pulled down as far as possible and 
 ostentatiously folded back over his 
 cuffs ; he displayed no gloves, and 
 carried a yellow cane having at the 
 top a bone hand with the semblance of 
 a ring on its little finger and a black 
 ball in its grasp. With all these per- 
 sonal advantages (to which may be 
 added a strong savour of tobacco- 
 smoke, and a prevailing greasincss of 
 appearance) Mr. Swiveller leant back 
 in his chair with his eyes fixed on the 
 ceiling, and occasionally pitching his 
 voice to the needful key, obliged the 
 company with a few bars of an in- 
 
 tensely dismal air, and then, in the 
 middle of a note, relapsed into his 
 former silence. 
 
 The old man sat himself down in a 
 chair, and, with folded hands, looked 
 sometimes at his grandson and some- 
 times at his strange companion, as if 
 he were utterly powerless and had no 
 resource but to leave them to do as 
 they pleased. The young man re- 
 clined against a table at no great dis- 
 tance from his friend, in apparent 
 indifference to everything that had 
 passed ; and I who felt the difficulty 
 of any interference, notwithstanding 
 that the old man had appealed to me, 
 both by words and looks made the 
 best feint I could of being occupied in 
 examining some of the goods that 
 were disposed for sale, and paying very 
 little attention to the persons before me. 
 
 The silence was not of long duration, 
 for Mr. Swiveller, after favouring us 
 with several melodious assurances 
 that his heart was in the highlands, 
 and that he wanted but his Arab steed 
 as a preliminary to the achievement 
 of great feats of valour and loyalty, 
 removed his eyes from the ceiling and 
 subsided into prose again. 
 
 " Fred," said Mr. Swiveller stop- 
 ping short as if the idea had suddenly 
 occurred to him, and speaking in the 
 same audible whisper as before, "is 
 the old min friendly ? " 
 
 " What does it matter ? " returned 
 his frienU peevishly. 
 
 No, but is he ? " said Dick. 
 
 " Yes, of course. What do I care 
 whether he is or not." 
 
 Emboldened as it seemed by this 
 reply to enter into a more general 
 conversation, Mr. Swiveller plainly 
 laid himself out to captivate our at- 
 tention. 
 
 He began by remarking that soda 
 water, though a good thing in the ab- 
 stract, was apt to lie cold upon the 
 stomach unless qualified with ginger, 
 or a small infusion of brandy, which 
 latter article he held to be preferable 
 in all cases, saving for the one con- 
 sideration of expense. Nobody ven- 
 turing to dispute these positions, lip 
 proceeded to observe that the human
 
 hair was a great retainer of tobacco- 
 smoke, and that the young gentlemen 
 of Westminster and Eton, after eating 
 vast quantities of apples to conceal any 
 scent of cigars from then? anxious 
 friends, were usually detected in con- 
 sequence of their heads possessing this 
 remarkable property ; whence he con- 
 cluded that if the Royal Society would 
 turn their attention to the circum- 
 stance, and endeavour to find in the 
 resources of science a means of pre- 
 venting such untoward revelations, 
 they might indeed be looked upon 
 as benefactors to mankind. These 
 opinions being equally incontrover- 
 tible with those he had already 
 pronounced, he went on to inform us 
 that Jamaica rum, though unquestion- 
 ably an agreeable spirit of great rich- 
 ness and flavour, had the drawback of 
 remaining constantly present to the 
 taste next day ; and nobody being 
 venturous enough to argue this point 
 either, he increased in confidence arid 
 became yet more companionable and 
 communicative. 
 
 " It 's a devil of a thing, gentlemen," 
 said Mr. Swiveller, "when relations 
 fall out and disagree. If the wing of 
 friendship should never moult a feather, 
 the wing of relationship should never 
 be clipped, but be always expanded and 
 serene. Why should a grandson and 
 grandfather peg away at each other 
 with mutual wiolence when all mighl 
 be bliss and concord 1 Why not jine 
 hands and forgit it \ " 
 
 " Hold your tongue," said his 
 friend. 
 
 Sir," replied Mr. Swiveller, don't 
 you interrupt the chair. Gentlemen, 
 how does the case stand, upon the 
 present occasion ? Here is a jolly old 
 grandfather I say it with the utmost 
 respect and here is a wild young 
 grandson. The jolly old grandfather 
 says to the wild young grandson, * I 
 have brought you up and educated 
 you, Fred ; I have put yon in the way 
 of getting on in life ; you have bolted 
 a little out of the course, as young fel- 
 lows often do ; and you shall never 
 have another chance, nor the ghost of 
 half a one.' The wild young grandson 
 
 makes answer to this and says, ' You're 
 as rich as rich can be ; you have been 
 at no uncommon expense on my ac- 
 count, you 're saving up piles of money 
 for my little sister that lives with you 
 'n a secret, stealthy, hugger-muggering 
 kind of way and with no manner of 
 enjoyment why can't you stand a 
 trifle for your grown-up relation ? ' 
 The jolly old grandfather unto this, 
 retorts, not only that he declines to 
 fork out with that cheerful readiness 
 which is always so agreeable and plea- 
 sant in a gentleman of his time of life, 
 but that he will blow up, and call 
 names, and make reflections whenever 
 they meet. Then the'plain question 
 is, an't it a pity that this state of things 
 should continue, and how much better 
 would it be for the old gentleman to 
 hand over a reasonable amount of 
 tin, and make it all right and comfort- 
 able ? " 
 
 Having delivered this oration with 
 a great many waves and flourishes 
 of the hand, Mr. Swiveller abruptly 
 thrust the head of his cane into his 
 mouth as if to prevent himself from 
 impairing the effect of his speech by 
 adding one other word. 
 
 " Why do you hunt and persecute 
 me, God help me 1 " said the old man 
 turning to his grandson. " Why do 
 you bring your profligate companions 
 here 1 How often am I to tell you 
 that my life is one of care and self- 
 denial, and that I am poor ? " 
 
 " How often am I to tell you," re- 
 turned the other, looking coldly at 
 him, " that I know better ! " 
 
 " You have chosen your own path," 
 said the old man. " Follow it. Leave 
 Nell and I to toil and work." 
 
 " Nell will be a woman soon," re- 
 turned the other, " and, bred in your 
 faith, she '11 forget her brother unless 
 he shows himself sometimes." 
 
 '' Take care," said the old man with 
 sparkling eyes, " that she does not for- 
 get you when you would have her 
 memory keenest. Take care that the 
 day don't come when you walk bare- 
 foot in the streets, and she rides by in 
 a gay carnage of her own." 
 
 " You mean when she has your
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 13 
 
 money ! " retorted the other. " How 
 like a poor man he talks ! " 
 
 " And yet," said the old man drop- 
 ping his voice and speaking like one 
 who thinks aloud, " how poor we are, 
 and what a life it is! The cause is 
 a young child's, guiltless of all harm 
 or wrong, but nothing goes well with 
 it ! Hope and patience, hope and 
 patience ! " 
 
 These words were uttered in too 
 low a tone to reach the ears of the 
 young men. Mr. Swiveller appeared 
 
 to think that they implied some mental 
 struggle consequent upon the power- 
 ful effect of his address, for he poked 
 his friend with his cane and whispered 
 his conviction that he had adminis- 
 tered "a clincher," and that he ex- 
 pected a commission on the profits. 
 Discovering his mistake after a while, 
 he appeared to grow rather sleepy 
 and discontented, and had more than 
 once suggested the propriety of an 
 immediate departure, when the door 
 opened, and the child herself appeared. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE child was closely followed by 
 an elderly man of remarkably hard 
 features and forbidding aspect, and so 
 low in stature as to be quite a dwarf, 
 though his head and face were large 
 enough for the body of a giant. His 
 black eyes were restless, sly, and cun- 
 ning ; his mouth and chin, bristly with 
 the stubble of a coarse hard beard ; 
 and his complexion was one of that 
 kind which never looks clean or whole- 
 some. But what added most to the 
 grotesque expression of his face, was 
 a ghastly smile, which, appearing to be 
 the mere result of habit and to have 
 no connection with any mirthful or 
 complacent feeling, constantly revealed 
 the few discolored fangs that were yet 
 scattered in his mouth, and gave him 
 the aspect of a panting dog. His dress 
 consisted of a large high-crowned hat, 
 a worn dark suit, a pair of capacious 
 shoes, and a dirty white neckerchief 
 sufficiently limp and crumpled to dis- 
 close the greater portion of his wiry 
 throat. Such hair as he had, was of a 
 grizzled black, cut short and straight 
 upon his temples, and hanging in a 
 frowzy fringe about his ears. His 
 hands, which were of a rough coarse 
 grain, were very dirty ; his finger-nails ! 
 were crooked, long, and yellow. 
 
 There was ample time to note these ' 
 particulars, for besides that they were 
 sufficiently obvious without very close 
 
 observation, some moments elapsed 
 before any one broke silence. The 
 child advanced timidly towards her 
 brother and put her hand in his, the 
 dwarf (if we may call him so) glanced 
 keenly at all present, and the curiosity- 
 dealer, who plainly had not expected 
 his uncouth visitor, seemed discon- 
 certed and embarrassed. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the dwarf, who with 
 his hand stretched out above his eyes 
 had been surveying the young man 
 attentively, "that should be your 
 grandson, neighbour ! " 
 
 " Say rather that he should not be," 
 replied the old man. " But he is." 
 
 " And that ? " said the dwarf, point- 
 ing to Dick Swiveller. 
 
 " Some friend of his, as welcome 
 here as he," said the old man. 
 
 " And that ? " inquired the dwarf 
 wheeling round and pom ting straight 
 at me. 
 
 " A gentleman who was so good as 
 to bring Nell home the other night 
 when she lost her way, coming from 
 your house." 
 
 The little man turned to the child 
 as if to chide her or express his won- 
 der, but, as she was talking to the 
 young man, held his peace, and bent 
 his head to listen. 
 
 " Well, Nelly," said the young fel- 
 low aloud. " Do they teach you to 
 hate me. eh ? "
 
 14 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 No, no. For shame. Oh, no ! " 
 cried the child. 
 
 " To love me, perhaps 1 " pursued 
 her brother with a sneer. 
 
 "To. do neither," she returned. 
 " They never speak to me about you. 
 Indeed they never do." 
 
 " I dare be bound for that," he said, 
 darting a bitter look at the grand- 
 father. "I dare be bound for that, 
 Nell. Oh ! I believe you there ! " 
 
 " But I love you dearly, Fred," said 
 the child. 
 No doubt!" 
 
 " I do indeed, and always will," the 
 child repeated with great emotion, 
 " but oh ! if you would leave off vexing 
 him and making him unhappy, then I 
 could love you more." 
 
 " I see ! " said the young man, as 
 he stooped carelessly over the child, 
 and having kissed her, pushed her 
 from him : " There get you away 
 now you have said your lesson. You 
 needn't whimper. We part good 
 friends enough, if that's the matter." 
 
 He remained silent, following her 
 with his eyes, until she had gained 
 her little room and closed the door ; 
 and then turning to the dwarf, said 
 abruptly, 
 
 " Harkee, Mr.' 
 " Meaning me ? " returned the dwarf. 
 "Quilp is my name. You might re- 
 member. It 's not a long one Daniel 
 Quilp." 
 
 " Harkee, Mr. Quilp, then," pursued 
 the other. " You have some influence 
 with my grandfather there." 
 
 "Some," said Mr. Quilp empha- 
 tically. 
 
 " And are in a few of his mysteries 
 and secrets." 
 
 " A few," replied Quilp, with equal 
 dryness. 
 
 " Then let me tell him once for all, 
 through you, that I will come into and 
 go out of this place as often as I like, 
 so long as he keeps Nell here ; anc 
 that if he wants to be quit of me, he 
 must first be quit of her. What have 
 I done to be made a bugbear of, anc 
 to be shunned and dreaded as if I 
 brought the plague ? He '11 tell you 
 that I have no natural affection ; anc 
 
 ;hat I care no more for Nell, for her 
 own sake, than I do for him. Let him 
 say so. I care for the whim, then, of 
 :oming to and fro and reminding her 
 of my existence. I will see her when 
 [ please. That 's my point. I came 
 lere to-day to maintain it, and I '11 
 come here again fifty times with the 
 same object and always with the same 
 success. I said I would stop till I had 
 jained it. I have done so, and now 
 my visit 's ended. Come, Dick." 
 
 Stop ! " cried Mr. Swiveller, as his 
 companion turned towards the door. 
 "Sir!" 
 
 " Sir, I am your humble servant," 
 said Mr. Quilp, to whom the mono- 
 syllable was addressed. 
 
 " Before I leave the gay and festive 
 scene, and halls of dazzling light, sir," 
 said Mr. Swiveller, " I will, with your 
 permission, attempt a slight remark. 
 I came here, sir, this day, under the 
 impression that the old min was 
 friendly." 
 
 " Proceed, sir," said Daniel Quilp ; 
 for the orator had made a sudden stop. 
 Inspired by this idea and the senti- 
 ments it awakened, sir, and feeling as 
 a mutual friend that badgering, baiting, 
 and bullying, was not the sort of thing 
 calculated to expand the souls and 
 promote the social harmony of the 
 contending parties, I took upon myself 
 to suggest a course which is the course 
 to be adopted on the present occasion. 
 Will you allow me to whisper half a 
 syllable, sir ? " 
 
 Without waiting for the permission 
 he sought, Mr. Swiveller stepped up 
 to the dwarf, and leaning on his shoul- 
 der and stooping down to get at his 
 ear, said in a voice which was perfectly 
 audible to all present, 
 
 " The watch-word to the old min is 
 fork." 
 
 " Is what ? " demanded Quilp. 
 
 " Is fork, sir, fork," replied Mr. 
 Swiveller slapping his pocket. " You 
 are awake, sir \ " 
 
 The dwarf nodded. Mr. Swiveller 
 drew back and nodded likewise, then 
 drew a little further back and nodded 
 again, and so on. By these means he 
 in time reached the door, where he
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 gave a great cough to attract the 
 dwarf's attention and gain an oppor- 
 tunity of expressing in dumb show, the 
 closest confidence and most inviolable 
 secrecy. Having performed the serious 
 pantomime that was necessary for the 
 due conveyance of these ideas, he cast 
 himself upon his friend's track, and 
 vanished. 
 
 " Humph ! " said the dwarf with a 
 sour look and a shrug of his shoulders, 
 " so much for dear relations. Thank 
 God I acknowledge none ! Nor need 
 you either," he added, turning to the 
 old man, " if you were not as weak as 
 a reed, and nearly as senseless." 
 
 " What would you have me do 1 " 
 he retorted in a kind of helpless des- 
 peration. "It is easy to talk and 
 sneer. What would you have me do ? " 
 
 " What would I do if I was in your 
 case ? " said the dwarf. 
 
 " Something violent, no doubt." 
 
 " You 're right there," returned the 
 little man, highly gratified by the com- 
 pliment, for such he evidently con- 
 sidered it ; and grinning like a devil 
 as he rubbed his dirty' hands together. 
 " Ask Mrs. Quilp, pretty Mrs. Quilp, 
 obedient, timid, loving Mrs. Quilp. 
 But that reminds me I have left her 
 all alone, and she will be anxious 
 and know not a moment's peace till I 
 return. I know she 's always in that 
 condition when I 'm away, though she 
 doesn't dare to say so, unless I lead 
 her on and tell her she may speak 
 freely, and I won't be angry with her. 
 Oh ! well-trained Mrs. Quilp ! " 
 
 The creature appeared quite horrible, 
 with his monstrous head and little 
 body, as he rubbed his hands slowly 
 round, and round, and round again 
 with something fantastic even in his 
 manner of performing this slight action 
 and, dropping his shaggy brows and 
 cocking his chin in the ah*, glanced 
 upward with a stealthy look of exulta- 
 tion that an imp might have copied 
 and appropriated to himself. 
 
 "Here," he said, putting his hand 
 into his breast and sidling up to the 
 old man as he spoke ; " I brought it 
 myself for fear of accidents, as, being 
 in gold, it was something large and 
 
 heavy for Nell to carry in her bag. 
 She need be accustomed to such loads 
 betimes though, neighbour, for she 
 will carry weight when you are dead." 
 
 " Heaven send she may ! I hope 
 so," said the old man with something 
 like a groan. 
 
 " Hope so ! " echoed the dwarf, ap- 
 proaching close to his ear ; "neighbour, 
 I would I knew in what good invest- 
 ment all these supplies are sunk. But 
 you are a deep man, and keep your 
 secret close." 
 
 " My secret ! " said the other with 
 a haggard look. " Yes, you 're right 
 I I keep it close very close." 
 
 He said no more, but, taking the 
 money, turned away with a slow uncer- 
 tain step, and pressed his hand upon 
 his head like a weary and dejected 
 man . The dwarf watched him sharply, 
 while he passed into the little sitting- 
 room and locked it in an iron safe 
 above the chimney-piece ; and after 
 musing for a short space, prepared to 
 take his leave, observing that unless 
 he made good haste, Mrs. Quilp would 
 certainly be in fits on his return. 
 
 "And so, neighbour," he added, 
 " I '11 turn my face homewards, leaving 
 my love for Nelly and hoping she may 
 never lose her way again, though her 
 doing so, has procured me an honour I 
 didn't expect." With that, he bowed 
 and leered at me, and with a keen 
 glance around which seemed to com- 
 prehend every object within his range 
 of vision, however small or trivial, 
 went his way. 
 
 I had several times essayed to go 
 myself, but the old man had always 
 opposed it and entreated me to remain. 
 As he renewed his entreaties on our 
 being left alone, and adverted with 
 many thanks to the former occasion of 
 our being together, I willingly yielded 
 to his persuasions, and sat down, pre- 
 tending to examine some curious 
 miniatures and a few old medals which 
 he placed before me. It needed no 
 great pressing to induce me to stay, 
 for if my curiosity had been excited on 
 the occasion of my first visit, it cer- 
 tainly was not diminished now. 
 
 Nell joined us before Jong, and
 
 16 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 bringing some needle-work to the 
 table, sat by the old man's side. It 
 was pleasant to observe the fresh 
 flowers in the room, the pet bird with 
 a green bough shading his little cage, 
 the breath of freshness and youth 
 which seemed to rustle through the 
 old dull house and hover round the 
 child. It was curious, but not so plea- 
 sant, to turn from the beauty and 
 grace of the girl, to the stooping 
 figure, care-worn face, and jaded 
 aspect of the old man. As he grew 
 weaker and more feeble, what would 
 become of this lonely little creature ; 
 poor protector as he was, say that 
 he died what would her fate be, 
 then? 
 
 The old man almost answered my 
 thoughts, as he laid his hand on hers, 
 and spoke aloud. 
 
 I '11 be of better cheer, Nell," he 
 said ; " there must be good fortune in 
 store for thee I do not ask it for my- 
 self, but thee. Such miseries must fall 
 on thy innocent head without it, that 
 I cannot believe but that, being 
 tempted, it will come at last ! " 
 
 She looked cheerfully into his face, 
 but made no answer. 
 
 " When I think," said he, of the 
 many years many in thy short life 
 that thou hast lived alone with me ; of 
 thy monotonous existence, knowing no 
 companions of thy own age nor any 
 childish pleasures ; of the solitude in 
 which thou hast grown to be what 
 thou art, and in which thou hast lived 
 apart from nearly all thy kind but one 
 old man ; I sometimes fear I have 
 dealt hardly by thee, Nell." 
 
 " Grandfather ! " cried the child in, 
 unfeigned surprise. 
 
 " Not in intention no no," said he. 
 " I have ever looked forward to the 
 time that should enable thee to mix 
 among the gayest and prettiest, and 
 take thy station with the best. But I 
 still look forward, Nell, I still look 
 .orward, and if I should be forced to 
 leave thee, meanwhile, how have I 
 fitted thee for struggles with the 
 world ? The poor bird yonder, is as 
 well qualified to encounter it, sind be 
 turned adrift upon its mercies Hark ! 
 
 I hear Kit outside. Go to him, Nell, 
 go to him." 
 
 She rose, and hurrying away, stop- 
 ped, turned back, and put her arms 
 about the old man's neck, then left 
 him and hurried away again but 
 faster this time, to hide her falling 
 tears. 
 
 " A word in your ear, sir," said the 
 old man in a hurried whisper. " I 
 have been rendered uneasy by what 
 you said the other night, and can only 
 plead that I have done all for the best 
 that it is too late to retract, if I 
 could (though I cannot) and that I 
 hope to triumph yet. All is for her 
 sake. I have borne great poverty 
 myself, and would spare her the suf- 
 ferings that poverty carries with it. 
 I would spare her the miseries that 
 brought her mother, my own dear 
 child, to an early grave. I would 
 leave her not with resources which 
 could be easily spent or squandered 
 away, but with what would place her 
 beyond the reach of want for ever. 
 You mark me, sir ? She shall have 
 no pittance, but a fortune Hush ! I 
 can say no more than that, now or 
 at any other time, and she is here 
 again ! " 
 
 The eagerness with which all this 
 was poured into my ear, the trembling 
 of the hand with which he clasped my 
 arm, the strained and starting eyes 
 he fixed upon me, the wild vehemence 
 and agitation of his manner, filled me 
 with amazement. All that I had heard 
 and seen, and a great part of what he 
 had said himself, led me to suppose 
 that he was a wealthy man. I could 
 form no comprehension of his charac- 
 ter, unless he were one of those miser- 
 able wretches who, having made gain 
 the sole end and object of their lives 
 and having succeeded in amassing 
 great riches, are constantly tortured 
 by the dread of poverty, and beset by 
 fears of loss and ruin. Many things 
 he had said, which I had been at a loss 
 to understand, were quite reconcile- 
 able with the idea thus presented to 
 me, and at length I concluded that 
 beyond all doubt he was one of this 
 unhappy race.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 17 
 
 The opinion was not the result of 
 hasty consideration, for which indeed 
 there was no opportunity at that time, 
 as the child came back directly, and 
 soon occupied herself in preparations 
 for giving Kit a writing lesson, of 
 which it seemed he had a couple every 
 week, and one regularly on that even- 
 ing, to the great mirth and enjoyment 
 both of himself and his instructress. 
 To relate how it was a long tune before 
 his modesty could be so far prevailed 
 upon as to admit of his sitting down 
 in the parlour, in the presence of an 
 unknown gentleman how, when he 
 did sit down, he tucked up his sleeves 
 and squared his elbows and put his face 
 close to the copy-book and squinted 
 horribly at the lines how, from the 
 very first moment of having the pen 
 in his hand, he began to wallow in 
 blots, and to daub himself with ink up 
 to the very roots of his hair how, if 
 he did by accident form a letter pro- 
 perly, he immediately smeared it out 
 again with his arm hi his preparations 
 to make another how, at every fresh 
 
 mistake, there was a fresh burst of 
 merriment from the child and a louder 
 and not less hearty laugh from poor 
 Kit himself and how there was all 
 the way through, notwithstanding, a 
 gentle wish on her part to teach, and 
 an anxious desire on his to learn to 
 relate all these particulars would no 
 doubt occupy more space and time 
 than they deserve. It will be suffi- 
 cient to say that the lesson was given 
 -that evening passed and night came 
 on that the old man again grew rest- 
 less and impatient that he quitted 
 the house secretly at the same hour 
 as before and that the child was 
 once more left alone within its gloomy 
 walls. 
 
 And now, that I have carried this 
 history so far in my own character 
 and introduced these personages to the 
 reader, I shall for the convenience of 
 the narrative detach myself from its 
 further course, and leave those who 
 have prominent and necessary parts 
 in it to speak and act for themselves. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MR. and Mrs. Quilp resided on 
 Tower Hill ; and in her bower on 
 Tower Hill Mrs. Quilp was left to pine 
 the absence of her lord, when he 
 quitted her on the business which he 
 has been already seen to transact. 
 
 Mr. Quilp could scarcely be said to 
 be of any particular trade or calling, 
 though his pursuits were diversified 
 and his occupations numerous. He 
 collected the rents of whole colonies of 
 filthy streets and alleys by the water- 
 side, advanced money to the seamen 
 and petty officers of merchant vessels, 
 had a share in the ventures of divers 
 mates of East Indiamen, smoked his 
 smuggled cigars under the very nose 
 of the Custom House, and made ap- 
 pointments on Change with men in 
 glazed hats and round jackets pretty 
 
 No. 65. 
 
 well every day. On the Surrey side 
 of the river was a small rat-infested 
 dreary yard called " Quilp's Wharf," in 
 which were a little wooden counting- 
 house burrowing all awry in the dust 
 as if it had fallen from the clouds and 
 ploughed into the ground ; a few frag- 
 ments of rusty anchors ; several large 
 iron rings ; some piles of rotten wood ; 
 and two or three heaps of old sheet 
 copper, crumpled, cracked, and bat- 
 tered. On Quilp's Wharf, Daniel 
 Quilp was a ship-breaker, yet to judge 
 from these appearances he must either 
 have been a ship-breaker on a very 
 small scale, or have broken his ships 
 up very small indeed. Neither did 
 the place present any extraordinary 
 aspect of life or activity, as its only 
 human occupant was an amphibious 
 c 2
 
 18 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 boy in a canvass suit, whose sole change 
 of occupation was from sitting on the 
 head of a pile and throwing stones 
 into the mud when the tide was out, to 
 standing with his hands in his pockets 
 gazing listlessly on the motion and on 
 the bustle of the river at high-water. 
 
 The dwarf's lodging on Tower Hill 
 comprised, besides the needful accom- 
 modation for himself and Mrs. Quilp, 
 a small sleeping-closet for that lady's 
 mother, who resided with the couple 
 and waged perpetual war with Daniel ; 
 of whom, notwithstanding, she stood 
 in no slight dread. Indeed, the ugly 
 creature contrived by some means or 
 other whether by his ugliness or his 
 ferocity or his natural cunning is no 
 great matter to impress with a whole- 
 some fear of his anger, most of those 
 with whom he was brought into daily 
 contact and communication. Over 
 nobody had he such complete ascen- 
 dancy as Mrs. Quilp herself a pretty 
 little, mild-spoken, blue-eyed woman, 
 who having allied herself in wedlock 
 to the dwarf in one of those strange 
 infatuations of which examples are by 
 no means scarce, performed a sound 
 practical penance for her folly, every 
 day of her life. 
 
 It has been said that Mrs. Quilp 
 was pining in her bower. In her 
 bower she was, but not alone, for 
 besides the old lady her mother of 
 whom mention has recently been 
 made, there were present some half- 
 dozen ladies of the neighbourhood who 
 had happened by a strange accident 
 (and also by a little understanding 
 among themselves) to drop in one 
 after another, just about tea-time. 
 This being a season favourable to 
 conversation, and the room being a 
 cool, shady, lazy kind of place, with 
 some plants at the open window shut- 
 ting out the dust, and interposing 
 pleasantly enough between the tea 
 table within and the old Tower with- 
 out, it is no wonder that the ladies 
 felt an inclination to talk and linger, 
 especially when there are taken into 
 account the additional inducements of 
 fresh butter, iiy bread, shrimps, and 
 water-cresses. 
 
 Now, the ladies being together under 
 these circumstances, it was extremely 
 natural that the discourse should turn 
 upon the propensity of mankind to 
 tyrannise over the weaker sex, and 
 the duty that devolved upon the weaker 
 sex to resist that tyranny and assert 
 their rights and dignity. It was natu- 
 ral for four reasons ; firstly because 
 Mrs. Quilp being a young woman and 
 notoriously under the dominion of her 
 husband ought to be excited to rebel, 
 secondly because Mrs. Quilp's parent 
 was known to be laudably shrewish in 
 her disposition and inclined to resist 
 male authority, thirdly because each 
 visitor wished to show for herself how 
 superior she was in this respect to the 
 generality of her sex, and fourthly 
 because the company being accustomed 
 to scandalise each other in pairs were 
 deprived of their usual subject of con- 
 versation now that they were all as- 
 sembled in close friendship, and had 
 consequently no better employment 
 than to attack the common enemy. 
 
 Moved by these considerations, a 
 stout lady opened the proceedings by 
 inquiring, with an air of great concern 
 and sympathy, how Mr. Quilp was ; 
 whereunto Mr. Quilp's wife's mother 
 replied sharply, " Oh ! he was well 
 enough nothing much was ever the 
 matter with him and ill weeds were 
 sure to thrive." All the ladies then 
 sighed in concert, shook their heads 
 gravely, and looked at Mrs. Quilp as 
 at a martyr. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the spokeswoman, " I 
 wish you 'd give her a little of your 
 advice, Mrs. Jiniwin" Mrs. Quilp 
 had been a Miss Jiniwin it should be 
 observed " nobody knows better than 
 you, ma'am, what us women owe to 
 ourselves." 
 
 " Owe indeed, ma'am ! " replied 
 Mrs. Jiniwin. " When my poor hus- 
 band, her dear father, was alive, if he 
 had ever ventur'd a cross word to me, 
 
 I 'd have " the good old lady did not 
 
 finish the sentence, but she twisted off 
 the head of a shrimp with a vindic- 
 tiveness which seemed to imply that 
 the action was in some degree a sub- 
 stitute for words. In this light it was
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 19 
 
 clearly understood by the other party, 
 who immediately replied with great 
 approbation, " You quite enter into my 
 feelings, ma'am, and it 's jist what I 'd 
 do myself." 
 
 " But you have no call to do it," 
 said Mrs. Jiniwin. " Luckily for you, 
 you have no more occasion to do it 
 than I had." 
 
 " No woman need have, if she was 
 true to herself," rejoined the stout lady. 
 
 " Do you hear that, Betsy ? " said 
 Mrs. Jiniwin, in a warning voice. 
 " How often have I said the very 
 same words to you, and almost gone 
 down on my knees when I spoke 'em ! " 
 
 Poor Mrs. Quilp, who had looked 
 in a state of helplessness from one 
 face of condolence to another, coloured, 
 smiled, and shook her head doubtfully. 
 This was the signal for a general 
 clamour, which beginning in a low 
 murmur gradually swelled into a great 
 noise in which everybody spoke at 
 once, and all said that she being a 
 young woman had no right to set up 
 her opinions against the experiences 
 of those who knew so much better ; 
 that it was very wrong of her not to 
 take the advice of people who had 
 nothing at heart but her good ; that 
 it was next door to being downright 
 ungrateful to conduct herself in that 
 manner ; that if she had no respect 
 for herself she ought to have some for 
 other women, all of whom she com- 
 promised by her meekness ; and that 
 if she had no resnect for other women, 
 the time wouloT come when other 
 women would havp no respect for her ; 
 and she would be very sorry for that, 
 they could tell her. Having dealt 
 out these admonitions, the ladies fell 
 to a more powerful assault than they 
 had yet made upon the mixed tta, 
 new bread, fresh butter, shrimps, and 
 water-cresses, and said that their vex- 
 ation was so great to see her going on 
 like that, that they could hardly bring 
 themselves to eat a single morsel. 
 
 " It 's all very fine to talk," said 
 Mrs. Quilp with much simplicity, 
 * but I know that if I was to die to- 
 morrow, Quilp could marry anybody he 
 pleased now that he could, I know !* 
 
 There was quite a scream of indig- 
 nation at this idea. Marry whom he 
 pleased ! They would like to see him 
 dare to think of marrying any of them ; 
 they would like to see the faintest ap- 
 proach to such a thing. One lady (a 
 widow) was quite certain she should 
 stab him if he hinted at it. 
 
 " Very well," said Mrs. Quilp, nod- 
 ding her head, <* as I said just now, 
 it 's very easy to talk, but I say again 
 that I know that I 'm sure Quilp 
 has such a way with him when he 
 likes, that the best-looking woman 
 here couldn't refuse him if I was dead, 
 and she was free, and he chose to make 
 love to her. Come ! " 
 
 Everybody bridled up at this re- 
 mark, as much as to say " I know you 
 mean me. Let him try that 's all." 
 And yet for some hidden reason they 
 were all angry with the widow, and 
 each lady whispered in her neigh- 
 bour's ear that it was very plain the 
 said widow thought herself the person 
 referred to, and what a puss she was ! 
 
 " Mother knows," said Mrs. Quilp, 
 " that what I say is quite correct, for 
 she often said so before we were mar- 
 ried. Didn't you say so, mother 1 " 
 
 This inquiry involved the respected 
 lady in rather a delicate position, for 
 she certainly had been an active party 
 in making her daughter Mrs. Quilp, 
 and, besides, it was not supporting the 
 family credit to encourage the idea 
 that she had married a man whom 
 nobody else would have. On the 
 other hand, to exaggerate the capti- 
 vating qualities of her son-in-law would 
 be to weaken the cause of revolt, in 
 which all her energies were deeply 
 engaged. Beset by these opposing 
 considerations, Mrs. Jiniwin admitted 
 the powers of insinuation, but denied 
 the right to govern, and with a timely 
 compliment to the stout lady brought 
 back the discussion to the point from 
 which it had strayed. 
 
 " Oh ! It 's a sensible and proper 
 thing indeed, what Mrs. George has 
 said ! " exclaimed the old lady. " If 
 women are only true to themselves ! 
 But Betsy isn't, and more 's the shame 
 and pity." 
 
 c2
 
 20 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 " Before I 'd let a man order me 
 about as Quilp orders her," said Mrs. 
 George ; " before I 'd consent to stand 
 in awe of a man as she does of him, 
 I 'd I 'd kill myself, and write a letter 
 first to say he did it ! " 
 
 This remark being loudly com- 
 mended and approved of, another lady 
 (from the Minories) put in her word : 
 
 " Mr. Quilp may be a very nice 
 man," said this lady, " and I suppose 
 there's no doubt he is, because Mrs. 
 Quilp says he is, and Mrs. Jiniwin says 
 he is, and they ought to know, or 
 nobody does. But still he is not quite 
 a what one calls a handsome man, 
 nor quite a young man neither, which 
 might be a little excuse for him if 
 anything could be ; whereas his wife 
 is young, and is good-looking, and is a 
 woman which is the great t'hing after 
 all." 
 
 This last clause being delivered with 
 extraordinary pathos elicited a corre- 
 sponding murmur from the hearers, 
 stimulated by which the lady went on 
 to remark that if such a husband was 
 cross and unreasonable with such a 
 wife, then 
 
 " If he is ! " interposed the mother, 
 putting down her tea-cup and brushing 
 the crumbs out of her lap, preparatory 
 to making a solemn declaration. " If 
 he is ! He is the greatest tyrant that 
 ever lived, she daren't call her soul 
 her own, he makes her tremble with a 
 word and even with a look, he frightens 
 her to death, and she hasn't the spirit 
 to give him a word back, no, not a 
 single word." 
 
 Notwithstanding that the fact had 
 been notorious beforehand to all the 
 tea-drinkers, and had been discussed 
 and expatiated on at every tea-drink- 
 ing in the neighbourhood for the last 
 twelve months, this official communi- 
 cation was no sooner made than they 
 all began to talk at once and to vie 
 with each other in vehemence and 
 volubility. Mrs. George remarked 
 that people would talk, that people had 
 often said this to her before, that Mrs. 
 Simmons then and there present had 
 told her so twenty times, that she had 
 always said, " No, Henrietta Simmons, 
 
 unless I see it with my own eyes and 
 hear it with my own ears, I never will 
 believe it." Mrs. Simmons corrobo- 
 rated this testimony and added strong- 
 evidence of her own. The lady from 
 the Minories recounted a successful 
 course of treatment under which she 
 had placed her own husband, who, 
 from manifesting one month after mar- 
 riage unequivocal symptoms of the 
 tiger, had by this means become sub- 
 dued into a perfect lamb. Another 
 lady recounted her own personal 
 struggle and final triumph, in the 
 course whereof she had found it neces- 
 sary to call in her mother and two 
 aunts, and to weep incessantly night 
 and day for six weeks. A third, who 
 in the general confusion could secure 
 no other listener, fastened herself upon 
 a young woman still unmarried who 
 happened to be amongst them, and 
 conjured her as she valued her own 
 peace of mind and happiness to profit 
 by this solemn occasion, to take 
 example from the weakness of Mrs. 
 Quilp, and from that time forth to 
 direct her whole thoughts to taming 
 and subduing the rebellious spirit of 
 man. The noise was at its height, and 
 half the company had elevated their 
 voices into a perfect shriek in order 
 to drown the voices of the other 
 half, when Mrs. Jiniwin was seen to 
 change colour and shake her fore-finger 
 stealthily, as if exhorting them to 
 silence. Then, and not until then, 
 Daniel Quilp himself, the cause and 
 occasion of all this clamour, was ob- 
 served to be in the room, looking on 
 and listening with profound attention. 
 
 " Go on, ladies, go on," said Daniel. 
 " Mrs. Quilp, pray ask the ladies to 
 stop to supper, and have a couple of 
 lobsters and something light and palat- 
 able." 
 
 " I I didn't ask them to tea, 
 Quilp," stammered his wife. " It 's 
 quite an accident." 
 
 " So much the better, Mi-s. Quilp ; 
 these accidental parties are always the 
 pleasantest," said the dwarf, rubbing 
 his hands so hard that he seemed to be 
 engaged in manufacturing, of the dirt 
 with which they were encrusted, little
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 21 
 
 charges for popguns. " What ! Not 
 going, ladies ! You are not going, 
 surely ! " 
 
 His fair enemies tossed their heads 
 slightly as they sought their respective 
 bonnets and shawls, but left all verbal 
 contention to Mrs. Jiniwin, who find- 
 ing herself in the position of champion, 
 made a faint struggle to sustain the 
 character. 
 
 "And why not stop to supper, Quilp," 
 said the old lady, "if my daughter 
 had a mind ? " 
 
 "To be sure," rejoined Daniel. 
 Why not ? " 
 
 " There's nothing dishonest or 
 wrong in a supper, I hope 1 " said 
 Mrs. Jiniwin. 
 
 " Surely not," returned the dwarf. 
 " Why should there be ? Nor anything 
 unwholesome either, unless there 's 
 lobster-salad or prawns, which I'm 
 told are not good for digestion." 
 
 " And you wouldn't like your wife 
 to be attacked with that, or anything 
 else that would make her uneasy, 
 would you ? " said Mrs. Jiniwin. 
 
 " Not for a score of worlds," replied 
 the dwarf with a grin. " Not even to 
 have a score of mothers-in-law at the 
 same time and what a blessing that 
 would be!" 
 
 " My daughter's your wife, Mr. 
 Quilp, certainly," said the old lady 
 with a giggle, meant for satirical and 
 to imply that he needed to be reminded 
 of the fact ; " your wedded wife." 
 
 " So she is certainly. So she is," 
 observed the dwarf. 
 
 " And she has a right to do as she 
 likes, I hope, Quilp," said the old lady 
 trembling, partly with anger and partly 
 with a secret fear of her impish son- 
 in-law. 
 
 Hope she has !" he replied, Oh ! 
 Don't you know she has I Don't you 
 know she has, Mrs. Jiniwin ?" 
 
 " I know she ought to have, Quilp, 
 and would have if she was of my way 
 of thinking." 
 
 " Why an't you of your mother's 
 way of thinking, my dear ? " said the 
 dwarf, turning round and addressing 
 his wife, " why don't you always imi- 
 tate your mother, my dear 1 She's the 
 
 ornament of her sex your father said 
 so every day of his life, I am sure 
 he did." 
 
 " Her father was a blessed creetur, 
 Quilp, and worth twenty thousand of 
 some people," said Mrs. Jiniwin ; 
 " twenty hundred million thousand." 
 
 " I should like to have known him," 
 remarked the dwarf. " I dare say he 
 was a blessed creature then ; but I 'm 
 sure he is now. It was a happy re- 
 lease. I believe he had sufi'ered a 
 long time ? " 
 
 The old lady gave a gasp, but nothing 
 came of it ; Quilp resumed, with the 
 same malice in his eye and the same 
 sarcastic politeness on his tongue. 
 
 " You look ill, Mrs. Jiniwin ; I 
 know you have been exciting yourself 
 too much talking perhaps, for it is 
 your weakness. Go to bed. Do go 
 to bed." 
 
 " I shall go when I please, Quilp, 
 and not before." 
 
 " But please to go now. Do please 
 to go now," said the dwarf. 
 
 The old woman looked angrily at 
 him, but retreated as he advanced, and 
 falling back before him suffered him 
 to shut the door upon her and bolt her 
 out among the guests, who were by 
 this time crowding down stairs. Being 
 left alone with his wife, who sat 
 trembling in a corner with her eyes 
 fixed upon the ground, the little man 
 planted himself before her, at some 
 distance, and folding his arms looked 
 steadily at her for a long time without 
 speaking. 
 
 " Oh you nice creature !" were the 
 words with which he broke silence ; 
 smacking his lips as if this were no 
 figure of speech, and she were actually 
 a sweetmeat. " Oh you precious dar- 
 ling ! oh you de-licious charmer ! " 
 
 Mrs. Quilp sobbed ; and knowing 
 the nature of her pleasant lord, ap- 
 peared quite as much alarmed by these 
 compliments, as she would have been 
 by the most extreme demonstrations 
 of violence. 
 
 "She's such," said the dwarf, with 
 a ghastly grin, " such a jewel, such a 
 diamond, such a pearl, such a ruby, 
 such a golden casket set with gems
 
 22 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 of all sorts 1 She 's such a treasure ! 
 I 'm so fond of her ! " 
 
 The poor little woman shivered 
 from head to foot; and raising her 
 eyes to his face with an imploring 
 look, suffered them to droop again, 
 and sobbed once more. 
 
 " The best of her is," said the dwarf, 
 advancing with a sort of skip, which, 
 what with the crookedness of his legs, 
 the ugliness of his face, and the 
 mockery of his manner, was perfectly 
 gobliii-like ; " the best of her is that 
 she 's so meek, and she 's so mild, and 
 she never has a will of her own, and 
 she has such an insinuating mother !" 
 
 Uttering these latter words with a 
 gloating maliciousness, within a hun- 
 dred degrees of which no one but him- 
 self could possibly approach, Mr. Quilp 
 planted his two hands on his knees, 
 and straddling his legs out very wide 
 apart, stooped slowly down, and down, 
 and down, until, by screwing his head 
 very much on one side, he came be- 
 tween his wife's eyes and the floor. 
 
 " Mrs. Quilp !" 
 
 Yes, Quilp." 
 
 Am I nice to look at ? Should I be 
 the handsomest creature in the world 
 if I had but whiskers ? Am I quite a 
 lady's man as it is \ am I, Mrs. 
 Quilp?" 
 
 Mrs. Quilp dutifully replied, " Yes, 
 Quilp ;" and fascinated by his gaze, 
 remained looking timidly at him, while 
 he treated her with a succession of 
 such horrible grimaces, as none but 
 himself and nightmares had the power 
 of assuming. During the whole of 
 this performance, which was somewhat 
 of the longest, he preserved a dead 
 silence, except when, by an unexpected 
 skip or leap, he made his wife start 
 backward with an irrepressible shriek. 
 Then he chuckled. 
 
 " Mrs. Quilp," he said at last. 
 
 " Yes, Quilp," she meekiy replied. 
 
 Instead of pursuing the theme he 
 had in his mind, Quilp rose, folded his 
 arms again, and looked at her more 
 sternly than before, while she averted 
 her eyes and kept them on the ground. 
 
 Mrs. Quilp." 
 
 Yes, Quilp." 
 
 u If ever you listen to these beldames 
 again, I '11 bite you." 
 
 With this laconic threat, which he 
 accompanied with a snarl that gave 
 him the appearance of being particu- 
 larly in earnest, Mr. Quilp bade her 
 clear the teaboard away, and bring 
 the rum. The spirit being set before 
 him in a huge case-bottle, which had 
 originally come out of some ship's 
 locker, he ordered cold water and the 
 box of cigars ; and these being sup- 
 plied, he settled himself in an arm- 
 chair with his large head and face 
 squeezed up against the back, and his 
 little legs planted on the table. 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Quilp," he said ; " I 
 feel in a smoking humour, and shall 
 probably blaze away all night. But 
 sit where you are, if you please, in 
 case I want you." 
 
 His wife returned no other reply 
 than the customary " Yes, Quilp," 
 and the small lord of the creation 
 took his first cigar and mixed his first 
 glass of grog. The sun went down 
 and the stars peeped out, the Tower 
 turned from its own proper colours 
 to grey and from grey to black, the 
 room became perfectly dark and the 
 end of the cigar a deep fiery red, 
 but still Mr. Quilp went on smoking 
 and drinking in the same position, 
 and staring listlessly out of window 
 with the dog-like smile always on his 
 face, save when Mrs. Quilp made 
 some involuntary movement of rest- 
 lessness or fatigue ; and then it ex- 
 panded into a grin of delight.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 23 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WHETHER Mr. Quilp took any sleep 
 by snatches of a few winks at a time, 
 or whether he sat with his eyes wide 
 open all night long, certain it is that 
 he kept his cigar alight, and kindled 
 every fresh one from the ashes of that 
 which was nearly consumed, without 
 requiring the assistance of a candle. 
 Nor did the striking of the clocks, 
 hour after hour, appear to inspire him 
 with any sense irf drowsiness or any 
 natural desire to go to rest ; but rather 
 to increase his wakefulness, which he 
 showed, at every such indication of 
 the progress of the night, by a sup- 
 pressed cackling in his throat, and a 
 motion of his shoulders, like one who 
 laughs heartily, but at the same time 
 slily and by stealth. 
 
 At length the day broke, and poor 
 Mrs. Quilp, shivering with the cold of 
 early morning and harassed by fatigue 
 and want of sleep, was discovered sit- 
 ting patiently on her chair, raising her 
 eyes at intervals in mute appeal to the 
 compassion and clemency of her lord, 
 and gently reminding him by an occa- 
 sional cough that she was still unpar- 
 doned and that her penance had been 
 of long duration. But tier dwarfish 
 spouse still smoked his cigar and 
 drank his rum without heeding her ; 
 and it was not until the sun had some 
 time risen, and the activity and noise 
 of city day were rife in the street, 
 that he deigned to recognise her pre- 
 sence by any word or sign. He might 
 not have done so even then, but for 
 certain impatient tappings at the door 
 which seemed to denote that some 
 pretty hard knuckles were actively 
 engaged upon the other side. 
 
 " Why dear me ! " he said looking 
 round with a malicious grin, "it's day! 
 open the door, sweet Mrs. Quilp ! " 
 
 His obedient wife withdrew the bolt, 
 and her lady mother entered. 
 
 Now, Mrs. Jiniwin bounced into the 
 room with great impetuosity ; for, sup- 
 posing her son-in-law to be still a-bed, 
 she had come to relieve her feelings 
 
 by pronouncing a strong opinion upon 
 his general conduct and character. 
 Seeing that he was up and dressed, 
 and that the room appeared to have 
 been occupied ever since she quitted 
 it on the previous evening, she stopped 
 short, in some embarrassment. 
 
 Nothing escaped the hawk's eye of 
 the ugly little man, who, perfectly un- 
 derstanding what passed in the old 
 lady's mind, turned uglier still in the 
 fulness of his satisfaction, and bade 
 her good morning, with a leer of 
 triumph. 
 
 " Why, Betsy," said the old woman, 
 " you haven't been a you don't mean 
 to say you've been a " 
 
 " Sitting up all night ? " said Quilp 
 supplying the conclusion of the sen- 
 tence. " Yes she has ! " 
 
 " All night ! " cried Mrs. Jiniwin. 
 
 " Aye, all night. Is the dear old 
 lady deaf I " said Quilp, with a smile 
 of which a frown was part. "Who 
 says man and wife are bad company ? 
 Ha ha ! The time has flown." 
 
 " You 're a brute ! " exclaimed Mrs. 
 Jiniwin. 
 
 " Come come," said Quilp, wilfully 
 misunderstanding her, ef course, " you 
 mustn't call her names. She's mar- 
 ried now, you know. And though she 
 did beguile the time and keep me 
 from my bed, you must not be so 
 tenderly careful of me as to be out of 
 humour with her. Bless you for a 
 dear old lady. Here 's your health ! " 
 
 " I am much obliged to you," re- 
 turned the old woman, testifying by a 
 certain restlessness in her hands a 
 vehement desire to shake her matronly 
 fist at her son-in-law. " Oh ! I 'm 
 very much obliged to you ! " 
 
 " Grateful soul ! " cried the dwarf. 
 Mrs. Quilp." 
 
 " Yes, Quilp," said the timid sufferer. 
 
 " Help your mother to get breakfast, 
 Mrs. Quilp. I am going to the wharf 
 this morning the earlier, the better, 
 so be quick." 
 
 Mrs. Jiniwin made a faint demon-
 
 24 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 stration of rebellion by sitting down in 
 a chair near the door and folding her 
 arms as if in a resolute determination 
 to do nothing. But a few whispered 
 words from her daughter, and a kind 
 inquiry from her son-in-law whether 
 she felt faint, with a hint that there 
 was abundance of cold water in the 
 next apartment, routed these symp- 
 toms effectually, and she applied her- 
 self to the prescribed preparations with 
 sullen diligence. 
 
 While they 'were in progress, Mr. 
 Quilp withdrew to the adjoining room, 
 and, turning back his coat-collar, pro- 
 ceeded to smear his countenance with 
 a damp towel of very unwholesome ap- 
 pearance, which made his complexion 
 rather more cloudy than it had been 
 before. But, while he was thus en- 
 gaged, his caution and inquisitiveness 
 did not forsake him. With a face as 
 sharp and cunning as ever, he often 
 stopped, even in this short process, 
 and stood listening for any conversa- 
 tion in the next room, of which he 
 might be the theme. 
 
 " Ah ! " he said after a short effort 
 of attention, " it was not the towel over 
 my ears, I thought it wasn't. I 'm a 
 little hunchy villain and a monster, am 
 I, Mrs. Jiniwin Oh ! " 
 
 The pleasure of this discovery 
 called up the old doglike smile in full 
 force. When he had quite done with 
 it, he shook himself in a very doglike 
 manner, and rejoined the ladies. 
 
 Mr. Quilp now walked up to the 
 front of a looking-glass, and was stand- 
 ing there, putting on his neckerchief, 
 when Mrs. Jiniwin, happening to be 
 behind him, could not resist the incli- 
 nation she felt to shake her fist at her 
 tyrant son-in-law. It was the gesture 
 of an instant, but as she did so and ac- 
 companied the action with a menacing 
 look, she met his eye in the glass, 
 catching her in the very act. The 
 same glance at the mirror conveyed to 
 her the reflection of a horribly gro- 
 tesque and distorted face with the 
 tongue lolling out ; and the next in- 
 stant the dwarf, turning about, with a 
 perfectly bland and placid look, in- 
 quired in a tone of great affection, 
 
 "How are you now, my dear old 
 darling " 
 
 Slight and ridiculous as the incident 
 was, it made him appear such a little 
 fiend, and withal such a keen and 
 knowing one, that the old woman felt 
 too much afraid of him to utter a 
 single word, and suffered herself to be 
 led with extraordinary politeness to 
 the breakfast-table. Here, he by no 
 means diminished the impression he 
 had just produced, for he ate hard 
 eggs, shell and all, devoured gigantic 
 prawns with the heads and tails on, 
 chewed tobacco and water-cresses at 
 the same time and with extraordinary 
 greediness, drank boiling tea without 
 winking, bit his fork and spoon till 
 they bent again, and in short per- 
 formed so many horrifying and uncom- 
 mon acts that the women were nearly 
 frightened out of their wits, and began 
 to doubt if he were really a human 
 creature. At last, having gone through 
 these proceedings and many others 
 which were equally a part of his sys- 
 tem, Mr. Q,uilp left them, reduced to 
 a very obedient and humbled state, 
 and betook himself to the river-side, 
 where he took boat for the wharf on 
 which he had bestowed his name. 
 
 It was flood tide when Daniel Quilp 
 sat himself down in the wherry to 
 cross to the opposite shore. A fleet 
 of barges were coming lazily on, some 
 sideways, some head first, some stern 
 first; all in a wrong-headed, dogged, 
 obstinate way, bumping up against the 
 larger craft, running under the bows 
 of steamboats, getting into every kind 
 of nook and corner where they had no 
 business, and being crunched on all 
 sides like so many walnut-shells ; 
 while each, with its pair of long sweeps 
 struggling and splashing in the water, 
 looked like some lumbering fish in 
 pain. In some of the vessels at anchor 
 ill hands were busily engaged in coil- 
 "ng ropes, spreading out sails to dry, 
 taking in or discharging their cargoes ; 
 in others, no life was visible but two or 
 three tarry boys, and perhaps a bark- 
 ing dog running to and fro upon the 
 deck or scrambling up to look over 
 the side and bark the louder for the
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 25 
 
 view. Coming slowly on through the 
 forest of masts, was a great steam ship, 
 beating the water in short impatient 
 strokes with her heavy paddles, as 
 though she wanted room to breathe, 
 mid advancing in her huge bulk like a 
 sea monster among the minnows of the 
 Thames. On either hand, were long 
 black tiers of colliers ; between them, 
 vessels slowly working out of harbour 
 with sails glistening in the sun, and 
 creaking noise on board, re-echoed 
 from a hundred quarters. The water 
 and all upon it was in active motion, 
 dancing and buoyant and bubbling 
 up ; while the old grey Tower and 
 piles of building on the shore, with 
 many a church-spire shooting up be- 
 tween, looked coldly on, and seemed 
 to disdain their chafing, restless neigh- 
 bour. 
 
 Daniel Quilp, who was not much 
 affected by a bright morning save in 
 so far as it spared him the trouble of 
 carrying an umbrella, caused himself 
 to be put ashore hard by the wharf, 
 and proceeded thither, through a nar- 
 row lane which, partaking of the am- 
 phibious character of its frequenters, 
 had as much water as mud in its 
 composition, and a very liberal supply 
 of both. Arrived at his destination, 
 the first object that presented itself to 
 his view was a pair of very imper- 
 fectly shod feet elevated in the air 
 with the soles upwards, which remark- 
 able appearance was referable to the 
 boy, who being of an eccentric spirit 
 and having a natural taste for tum- 
 bling was now standing on his head 
 and contemplating the aspect of the 
 river under these uncommon circum- 
 stances. He was speedily brought on 
 his heels by the sound of his master's 
 voice, and as soon as his head was in 
 its right position, Mr. Quilp, to speak 
 expressively in the absence of a better 
 verb, " punched it " for him. 
 
 " Come, you let me alone," said the 
 boy, parrying Quilp's hand with both 
 his elbows alternately. " You '11 get 
 something you won't like if you don't, 
 and so I tell you." 
 
 "Yon dog," snarled Quilp, "I'll 
 beat you with an iron rod, I '11 scratch 
 
 you with a rusty nail, I '11 pinch your 
 eyes, if you talk to me I will ! " 
 
 With these threats he clenched his 
 hand again, and dexterously diving in 
 between the elbows and catching the 
 boy's head as it dodged from side to 
 side, gave it three or four good hard 
 knocks. Having now carried his point 
 and insisted on it, he left off. ~ 
 
 "You won't do it again," said the 
 boy, nodding his head and drawing 
 back, with the elbows ready in case of 
 the worst ; " now ! " 
 
 "Stand still, you dog," said Quilp. 
 " I won't do it again, because I've 
 done it as often as I want. Here. 
 Take the key." 
 
 " Why don't you hit one of your 
 size ? " said the boy approaching very 
 slowly. 
 
 " Where is there one of my size, 
 you dog ? " returned Quilp. " Take 
 the key, or I'll brain you with it" 
 indeed he gave him a smart tap with 
 the handle as he spoke. " Now, open 
 the counting-house." 
 
 The boy sulkily complied, muttering 
 at first, but desisting when he looked 
 round and saw that Quilp was follow- 
 ing him with a steady look. And here 
 it may be remarked, that between this 
 boy and the dwarf there existed a 
 strange kind of mutual liking. How 
 born or bred, or how nourished upon 
 blows and threats on one side, and 
 retorts and defiances on the other, is 
 not to the purpose. Quilp would cer- 
 tainly suffer nobody to contradict him 
 but the boy, and the boy would 
 assuredly not have submitted to be so 
 knocked about by anybody but Quilp, 
 when he had the power to run away at 
 any time he chose. 
 
 " Now," said Quilp, passing into the 
 wooden counting-house, " you mind 
 the wharf. Stand upon your head 
 again, and I '11 cut one of your feet 
 off." 
 
 The boy made no answer, but 
 directly Quilp had shut himself in, 
 stood on his head before the door, then 
 walked on his hands to the back and 
 stood on his head there, and then to 
 the opposite side and repeated the per- 
 formance. There were, indeed, four
 
 26 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 sides to the counting-house, but he 
 avoided that one where the window 
 was, deeming it probable that Quilp 
 would be looking out of it. This was 
 prudent, for in point of fact the dwarf, 
 knowing his disposition, was lying in 
 wait at a little distance from the sash 
 armed with a large piece of wood, 
 which, being rough and jagged and 
 studded in many parts with broken 
 nails, might possibly have hurt him. 
 
 It was a dirty little box, this count- 
 ing-house, with nothing in it but an 
 old ricketty desk and two stools, a hat- 
 peg, an ancient almanack, an inkstand 
 with no ink and the stump of one pen, 
 and an eight-day clock which hadn't 
 gone for eighteen years at least and 
 of which the minute-hand had been 
 twisted off for a tooth-pick. Daniel 
 Quilp pulled his hat over his brows, 
 climbed on to the desk (which had a 
 flat top), and stretching his short 
 length upon it went to sleep with the 
 ease of an old practitioner ; intending, 
 no doubt, to compensate himself for 
 the deprivation of last night's rest, by 
 a long and sound nap. 
 
 Sound it might have been, but 
 long it was not, for he had not been 
 asleep a quarter of an hour when the 
 boy opened the door and thrust in his 
 head, which was like a bundle of badly- 
 picked oakum. Quilp was a light 
 sleeper and started up directly. 
 
 " Here's somebody for you," said 
 the boy. 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " Ask ! " said Quilp, seizing the 
 trifle of wood before mentioned and 
 throwing it at him with such dex- 
 terity that it was well the boy dis- 
 appeared before it reached the spot on 
 which he had stood. " Ask, you dog." 
 
 Not caring to venture within range 
 of such missiles again, the boy dis- 
 creetly sent, in his stead, the first cause 
 of the interruption, who now presented 
 herself at the door. 
 
 "What, Nelly !" cried Quilp. 
 
 "Yes," said the child, hesitating 
 whether to enter or retreat, for the 
 dwarf just roused, with his dishevelled 
 hair hanging all about him, and a yellow 
 handkerchief over his head, was some- 
 thing fearful to behold ; " it's only me, 
 sir." 
 
 " Come in," said Quilp, without 
 getting off the desk. " Come in. Stay. 
 Just look out into the yard, and see 
 whether there 's a boy standing on his 
 head." 
 
 " No, sir," replied Nell. " He 's on 
 his feet." 
 
 " You 're sure he is ? " said Quilp. 
 "Well. Now, come in and shut the 
 door. What 's your message, Nelly I 
 
 The child handed him a letter ; Mr. 
 Quilp, without changing his position 
 otherwise than to turn over a little 
 more on his side and rest his chin on 
 his hand, proceeded to make himself 
 acquainted with its contents.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 27 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LITTLE NELL stood timidly by, with 
 her eyes raised to the countenance of 
 Mr. Quilp as he read the letter, plainly 
 showing by her looks that while she 
 entertained some fear and distrust of 
 the little man, she was much inclined 
 to laugh at his uncouth appearance 
 and grotesque attitude. And yet, there 
 was visible on the part of the child a 
 painful anxiety for his reply, and a con- 
 sciousness of his power to render it 
 disagreeable or distressing, which was 
 strongly at variance with this impulse 
 and restrained it more effectually than 
 she could possibly have done by any 
 efforts of her own. 
 
 That Mr. Quilp was himself per- 
 plexed, and that in no small degree, by 
 the contents of the letter, was suffi- 
 ciently obvious. Before he had got 
 through the first two or three lines he 
 began to open his eyes very wide and 
 to frown most horribly, the next two 
 or three caused him to scratch his head 
 in an uncommonly vicious manner, 
 and when he came to the conclusion 
 he gave a long dismal whistle indica- 
 tive of surprise and dismay. After 
 folding and laying it down beside him, 
 he bit the nails of all his ten fingers 
 with extreme voracity ; and taking it 
 up sharply, read it again. The second 
 perusal was to all appearance as unsa- 
 tisfactory as the first, and plunged him 
 into a profound reverie from which he 
 awakened to another assault upon his 
 nails and a long stare at the child, who 
 with her eyes turned towards the 
 ground awaited his further pleasure. 
 
 " Halloa here ! " he said at length, 
 in a voice, and with a suddenness, 
 which made the child start as though a 
 gun had been fired off at her ear. 
 Nelly ! " 
 
 Yes, sir." 
 
 " Do you know what 's inside this 
 letter, Nell 1 " 
 
 " No, sir ! " 
 
 " Are you sure, quite sure, quite 
 certain, upon your soul 1 " 
 
 " Quite sure, sir." 
 
 " Do you wish you may die if you 
 do know, hey ? " said the dwarf. 
 
 " Indeed I don't know," returned 
 the child. 
 
 ' Well ! " muttered Quilp as he 
 marked her earnest look. " I believe 
 you. Humph ! Gone already 1 Gone 
 in four-and-twenty hours ! What the 
 devil has he done with it ! That 's- the 
 mystery ! " 
 
 This reflection set him scratching his 
 head, and biting his nails, once more. 
 While he was thus employed his fea- 
 tures gradually relaxed into what was 
 with liun a cheerful smile, but which 
 in any other man would have been a 
 ghastly grin of pain ; and when the 
 child looked up again she found that 
 he was regarding her with extraordi- 
 nary favour and complacency. 
 
 " You look very pretty to-day, Nelly, 
 charmingly pretty. Are you tired, 
 Nelly \ " 
 
 " No, sir. I 'm in a hurry to get 
 back, for he will be anxious while I am 
 away." 
 
 " There 's no hurry, little Nell, no 
 hurry at all," said Quilp. " How 
 should you like to be my number two, 
 Nelly 2 " 
 
 To be what, sir ? " 
 " My number two, Nelly ; my second ; 
 my Mrs. Quilp," said the dwarf. 
 
 The child looked frightened, but 
 seemed not to understand him, which 
 Mr. Quilp observing, hastened to 
 explain his meaning more distinctly. 
 
 " To be Mrs. Quilp the second, when 
 Mrs. Quilp the first is dead, sweet 
 Nell," said Quilp, wrinkling up his 
 eyes and luring her towards him with 
 his bent forefinger, " to be my wife, 
 my little cherry-cheeked, red-lipped 
 wife. Say that Mrs. Quilp lives five 
 years, or only four, you '11 be just the 
 proper age for me. Ha ha ! Be a 
 good girl, Nelly, a very good girl, and 
 see if one of these days you don't come 
 to be Mrs. Quilp of Tower Hill." 
 
 So far from being sustained and sti- 
 mulated by this delightful prospect
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 the child shrunk from him, and 
 trembled. Mr. Quilp, either because 
 frightening anybody afforded him a 
 constitutional delight, or because it 
 was pleasant to contemplate the 
 death of Mrs. Quilp number one, 
 and the elevation of Mrs. Quilp 
 number two to her post and title, 
 or because he was determined for 
 purposes of his own to be agreeable 
 and good-humoured at that particular 
 time, only laughed and feigned to take 
 no heed of her alarm. 
 
 " You shall come with me to Tower 
 Hill, and see Mrs. Quilp that is, 
 directly," said the dwarf. " She 's 
 very fond of you, Nell, though not so 
 fond as I am. You shah 1 come home 
 with me." 
 
 " I must go back indeed," said the 
 child. " He told me to return directly 
 I had the answer." 
 
 " But you haven't, it Nelly," re- 
 torted the dwarf, " and won't have it, 
 and can't have it, until I have been 
 home, so you see that to do your 
 errand, you must go with me. Reach 
 me yonder hat, my dear, and we '11 go 
 directly." With that, Mr. Quilp suf- 
 fered himself to roll gradually off the 
 desk until his short legs touched the 
 ground, when he got upon them and 
 led the way from the counting-house 
 to the wharf outside, where the first 
 objects that presented themselves were 
 the boy who had stood on his head and 
 another young gentleman of about his 
 own stature, rolling in the mud together, 
 locked in a tight embrace, and cuffing 
 each other with mutual heartiness. 
 
 " It 's Kit ! " cried Nelly clasping 
 her hands, " poor Kit who came with 
 me ! oh pray stop them, Mr. Quilp ! " 
 
 " I '11 stop 'em," cried Quilp, diving 
 into the little counting-house and 
 returning with a thick stick, " I '11 stop 
 'em. Now, my boys, fight away. I '11 
 fight you both, I '11 take both of you, 
 both together, both together ! " 
 
 With which defiances the dwarf 
 flourished his cudgel, and dancin 
 round the combatants and treading 
 upon them and skipping over them, in 
 a kind of frenzy, laid about him, now 
 on one and now on the other, in a most 
 
 desperate manner, always aiming at 
 their heads and dealing such blows as 
 none but the veriest little savage would 
 have inflicted. This being warmer 
 work than they had calculated upon, 
 speedily cooled the courage of the 
 belligerents, who scrambled to their 
 feet and called for quarter. 
 
 " I '11 beat you to a pulp, you dogs," 
 said Quilp, vainly endeavouring to get 
 near either of them for a parting blow. 
 " I '11 bruise you till you 're copper- 
 coloured, I '11 break your faces till you 
 haven't a profile between you, I will." 
 " Come, you drop that stick or it '11 
 be worse for you," said his boy, dodg- 
 ing round him and watching an opportu- 
 nity to rush in ; " you drop that stick." 
 
 " Come a little nearer, and I '11 drop 
 it on your skull, you dog," said Quilp 
 with gleaming eyes ; " a little nearer 
 nearer yet." 
 
 But the boy declined the invitation 
 until his master was apparently a little 
 off his guard, when he darted in and 
 seizing the weapon tried to wrest it 
 from his grasp. Quilp, who was as 
 strong as a lion, easily kept his hold 
 until the boy was tugging at it with his 
 utmost power, when he suddenly let it 
 go and sent him reeling backwards, so 
 that he fell violently upon his head. 
 The success of this mano3uvre tickled 
 Mr. Quilp beyond description, and he 
 laughed and stamped upon the ground 
 as at a most irresistible jest. 
 
 " Never mind," said the boy, nod- 
 ding his head and rubbing it at the 
 same time ; " you see if ever I offer to 
 strike anybody again because they say 
 you 're a uglier dwarf than can be seen 
 anywheres for a penny, that 's all." 
 
 " Do you mean to say, I 'in not, you 
 dog ? " returned Quilp. 
 
 " No ! " retorted the boy. 
 
 " Then what do you fight on my 
 wharf for, you villain ? " said Quilp. 
 
 "Because he said so," replied the 
 boy, pointing to Kit, "not because 
 you an't." 
 
 " Then why did he say," bawled 
 Kit, " that Miss Nelly was ugly, and 
 that she and my master was obliged 
 to do whatever his master liked 1 
 Why did he say that ?"
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 29 
 
 " He said what he did because he 's 
 a fool, and you said what you did be- 
 cause you 're very wise and clever- 
 almost too clever to live, unless you 're 
 very careful of yourself, Kit," said 
 Quilp with great suavity in his man- 
 ner, but still more of quiet malice 
 about his eyes and mouth. " Here 'a 
 sixpence for you, Kit. Always speak 
 the truth. At all times, Kit, speak 
 the truth. Lock the counting-house, 
 you dog, and bring me the key." 
 
 The other boy, to whom this order 
 was addressed, did as he was told, and 
 was rewarded for his partizanship in 
 behalf of his master, by a dexterous 
 rap on the nose with the key, which 
 brought the water into his eyes. Then, 
 Mr. Quilp departed, with the child and 
 Kit in a boat, and the boy revenged 
 himself by dancing on his head at 
 intervals on the extreme verge of the 
 wharf, during the whole time they 
 crossed the river. 
 
 There was only Mrs. Quilp at home, 
 and she, little expecting the return of 
 her lord, was just composing herself 
 for a refreshing slumber when the 
 sound of his footsteps roused her. She 
 had barely time to seem to be occu- 
 pied in some needle-work, when he 
 entered, accompanied by the child ; 
 having left Kit down stairs. 
 
 " Here 's Nelly Trent, dear Mrs. 
 Quilp," said her husband. " A glass 
 of wine, my dear, and a biscuit, for she 
 has had a long walk. She '11 sit with 
 you my, soul, while I write a letter." 
 
 Mrs. Quilp looked tremblingly in 
 her spouse's face to know what this 
 unusual courtesy might portend, and 
 obedient to the summons she saw in 
 his gesture, followed him into the next 
 room. 
 
 " Mind what I say to you," whis- 
 pered Quilp. " See if you can get out 
 of her anything about her grandfather, 
 or what they do, or how they live, or 
 what he tells her. I 've ray reasons 
 for knowing, if I can. You women 
 talk more freely to one another than 
 you do to us, and you have a soft, mild 
 way with you that'll win upon her. 
 Do you hear ? " 
 
 "Yes, Quilp." 
 
 "Go, then. What's the matter 
 now ? " 
 
 " Dear Quilp," faltered his wife, 
 "I love the child if you could do 
 without making me deceive her " 
 
 The dwarf muttering a terrible oath 
 looked round as if for some weapon 
 with which to inflict condign punish- 
 ment upon his disobedient wife. The 
 submissive little woman hurriedly 
 entreated him not to be angry, and 
 promised to do as he bade her. 
 
 " Do you hear me," whispered 
 Quilp, nipping and pinching her arm ; 
 " worm yourself into her secrets ; I 
 know you can. I 'm listening, recol- 
 lect. If you 're not sharp enough I '11 
 creak the door, and wo betide you if 
 I have to creak it much. Go ! " 
 
 Mrs. Quilp departed according to 
 order. Her amiable husband, en- 
 sconcing himself behind the partly 
 opened door, and applying his ear 
 close to it, began to listen with a face 
 of great craftiness and attention. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Quilp was thinking, how- 
 ever, in what manner to begin or what 
 kind of inquiries she could make ; 
 it was not until the door, creaking 
 hi a very urgent manner, warned her 
 to proceed without further considera- 
 tion, that the sound of her voice was 
 heard. 
 
 "How very often you have come 
 backwards and forwards lately to Mr. 
 Quilp, my dear." 
 
 "I have said so to grandfather, a 
 hundred times," returned Nell inno- 
 cently. 
 
 " And what has he said to that ? " 
 
 " Only sighed, and dropped his head, 
 and seemed so sad and wretched that 
 if you could have seen him I am sure 
 you must have cried ; you could not 
 have helped it more than I, I know. 
 How that door creaks ! " 
 
 " It often does," returned Mrs. Quilp 
 with an uneasy glance towards it. 
 
 But your grandfather- he used not 
 to be so wretched ? " 
 
 " Oh no ! " said the child eagerly, 
 '' so different ! we were once so happy 
 and he so cheerful and contented ! 
 You cannot think what a sad change 
 has fallen on us, since."
 
 30 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 " I am very, very sorry, to hear you 
 speak like this, my dear!" said Mrs. 
 Quilp. And she spoke the truth. 
 
 " Thank you," returned the child, 
 kissing her cheek, "you are always 
 kind to me, and it is a pleasure to talk 
 to you. I can speak to no one else 
 about him, but poor Kit. I am very 
 happy still, I ought to feel happier 
 perhaps than I do, but you cannot 
 think how it grieves me sometimes to 
 Bee him alter so." 
 
 " He '11 alter again, Nelly," said 
 Mrs. Quilp, "and be what lie was 
 before." 
 
 "Oh if God would only let that 
 come about ! " said the child with 
 streaming eyes ; " but it is a long time 
 now, since he first began to I thought 
 I saw that door moving ! " 
 
 "It's the wind," said Mrs. Quilp 
 faintly. " Began to ? " 
 
 " To be so thoughtful and dejected, 
 and to forget our old way of spending 
 the time in the long evenings," said 
 the child. " I used to read to him by 
 the fireside, and he sat listening, and 
 when I stopped and we began to talk, 
 he told me about my mother, and how 
 she once looked and spoke just like 
 me when she was a little child. Then, 
 he used to take me on his knee, and 
 try to make me understand that she 
 was not lying in her grave, but had 
 flown to a beautiful country be- 
 yond the sky, where nothing died or 
 ever grew old we were very happy 
 once ! " 
 
 " Nelly, Nelly ! " said the poor 
 woman, " I can't bear to see one as 
 young as you, so sorrowful. Pray 
 don't cry." 
 
 " I do so very seldom," said Nell, 
 "but I have kept this to myself a long 
 time, and I am not quite well, I think, 
 for the tears come into my eyes and I 
 cannot keep them back. I don't mind 
 telling you my grief, for I know you 
 will not tell it to any one again." 
 
 Mrs. Quilp turned away her head 
 and made no answer. 
 
 " Then," said the child, " we often 
 walked in the fields and among the 
 green trees, and when we came home 
 at night, we liked it better for being 
 
 tired, and said what a happy place it 
 was. And if it was dark and rather 
 dull, we used to say, what did it matter 
 to us, for it only made us remember 
 our last walk with greater pleasure, 
 and look forward to our next one. 
 But, now, we never have these walks, 
 and though it is the same house, it is 
 darker and much more gloomy than it 
 used to be. Indeed ! " 
 
 She paused here, but though the 
 door creaked more than once, Mrs. 
 Quilp said nothing. 
 
 " Mind you don't suppose," said the 
 child earnestly, "that grandfather is 
 less kind to me than he was. I think 
 he loves me better every day, and is 
 kinder and more affectionate than he 
 was the day before. You do not know 
 how fond he is of me ! " 
 
 " I 'm sure he loves you dearly," said 
 Mrs. Quilp. 
 
 " Indeed, indeed he does ! " cried 
 Nell, " as dearly as I love him. But 
 I have not told you the greatest change 
 of all, and this you must never breathe 
 again to any one. He has no sleep or 
 rest, but that which he takes by day 
 in his easy chair ; for, every night and 
 nearly all night long, he is away from 
 home." 
 
 Nelly ? " 
 
 " Hush ! " said the child, laying her 
 finger on her lip and looking round. 
 " When he comes home in the morn- 
 ing, which is generally just before day, 
 I let him in. Last night he was very 
 late, and it was quite light. I saw that 
 his face was deadly pale, that his eyes 
 were bloodshot, and that his legs trem- 
 bled as he walked. When I had gone 
 to bed again, I heard him groan. I 
 got up and ran back to him, and heard 
 him say, before he knew that I was 
 there, that he could not bear his life 
 much longer, and if it was not for the- 
 child, would wish to die. What shall 
 I do Oh ! what shall I do ! " 
 
 The fountains of her heart were 
 opened ; the child, overpowered by the 
 weight of her sorrows and anxieties, 
 by the first confidence she had ever 
 shown, and the sympathy with which 
 her little tale had been received, hid 
 her face in the arms of her helpless
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 friend, and burst into a passion of 
 tears. 
 
 In a few moments Mr. Quilp re- 
 turned, and expressed the utmost sur- 
 prise to find her in this condition, 
 which he did very naturally and with 
 admirable effect ; for that kind of acting 
 had been rendered familiar to him by 
 long practice, and he was quite at 
 home in it. 
 
 " She 's tired you see, Mrs. Quilp," 
 said the dwarf, squinting in a hideous 
 manner to imply that his wife was to 
 follow his lead. " It 'a a long way 
 from her home to the wharf, and then 
 she was alarmed to see a couple of 
 young scoundrels fighting, and was 
 timorous on the water besides. All 
 this together, has been too much for 
 her. Poor Nell !" 
 
 Mr. Quilp unintentionally adopted 
 the very best means he could have 
 devised for the recovery of his young 
 visitor, by patting her on the head. 
 Such an application from any other 
 hand might not have produced a re- 
 markable effect, but the child shrunk 
 so quickly from his touch and felt such 
 an instinctive desire to get out of his 
 reach, that she rose directly and 
 declared herself ready to return. 
 
 " But you 'd better wait, and dine 
 with Mrs. Quilp and me," said the 
 dwarf. 
 
 " I have been away too long, sir, 
 already," returned Nell, drying her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Quilp, "if you 
 will go, you will, Nelly. Here '3 the 
 note. It 's only to say that I shall see 
 him to-morrow, or maybe next day, 
 and that I couldn't do that little busi- 
 ness for him this morning. Good bye, 
 Nelly. Here, you sir ; take care of 
 her, d 'ye hear 2 " 
 
 Kit, who appeared at the summons, 
 deigned to make no reply to so need- 
 less an inj unction, and after staring at 
 Quilp in a threatening manner as if 
 he doubted whether he might not have 
 been the cause of Nelly shedding tears, 
 and felt more than half-disposed to 
 revenge the fact upon him on the 
 mere suspicion, turned about and fol- 
 lowed his young mistress, who had by 
 
 this tune taken her leave of Mrs. 
 Quilp and departed. 
 
 " You're a keen questioner, an't 
 you, Mrs. Quilp I " said the dwarf 
 turning upon her as soon as they were 
 left alone. 
 
 " What more could I do I " returned 
 his wife mildly. 
 
 " Whatmore could you do ! " sneered 
 Quilp, " couldn't you have done some- 
 thing less ! couldn't you have done 
 what you had to do, without appearing 
 in your favorite part of the crocodile, 
 you minx." 
 
 *< I am very sory for the child, 
 Quilp," said his wife. " Surely I 've 
 done enough. I 've led her on to tell 
 her secret when she supposed we were 
 alone j and you were by, God forgive 
 me." 
 
 " You led her on ! You did a great 
 deal truly ! " said Quilp. " What did 
 I tell you about making me creak the 
 door ? It 's lucky for you that from 
 what she let fall, I 've got the clue I 
 want, for if I hadn't, I 'd have visited 
 the failure upon you." 
 
 Mrs. Quilp being fully persuaded of 
 this, made no reply. Her husband 
 added with some exultation, 
 
 " But you may thank your fortunate 
 stars the same stars that made you 
 Mrs. Quilp you may thank them that 
 I 'm upon the old gentleman's track 
 and have got a new light. So let me 
 hear no more about this matter, now, 
 or at any other time, and don't get 
 anything too nice for dinner, for I 
 shan't be home to it." 
 
 So saying, Mr. Quilp put his hat on 
 and took himself off, and Mrs. Quilp, 
 who was afflicted beyond measure by 
 the recollection of the part she had 
 just acted, shut herself up v in her 
 chamber, and smothering her head in 
 the bed-clothes bemoaned her fault 
 more bitterly than many less tender- 
 hearted persons would have mourned 
 a much greater offence ; for, in the 
 majority of cases, conscience is an 
 elastic and very flexible article, which 
 will bear a deal of stretching and adapt 
 itself to a great variety of circum- 
 stances. Some people by prudent 
 management and leaving it off piece
 
 32 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 by piece, like a flannel waistcoat in 
 warm weather, even contrive, in time, 
 to dispense with it altogether ; but 
 there be others who can assume the 
 
 garment and throw it off at pleasure ; 
 and this, being the greatest and most 
 convenient improvement, is the one 
 most in vogue. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " FRED," said Mr. Swiveller, " re- 
 member the once popular melody of 
 ' Begone dull care ;' fan the sin kin, 
 flame of hilarity with the win: 
 of friendship ; and pass the rosy 
 wine !" 
 
 Mr. Richard Swiveller's apartments 
 were in the neighbourhood of Drury 
 Lane, and in addition to this conveni- 
 ency of situation had the advantage of 
 being over a tobacconist's shop, so 
 that he was enabled to procure a re- 
 freshing sneeze at any time by merely 
 stepping out on the staircase, and 
 was saved the trouble and expense of 
 maintaining a snuff-box. It was in 
 these apartments that Mr. Swiveller 
 made use of the expressions above 
 recorded, for the consolation and en- 
 couragement of his desponding friend ; 
 and it may not be uninteresting or 
 improper to remark that even these 
 brief observations partook in a double 
 sense of the figurative and poetical 
 character of Mr. Swiveller's mind, as 
 the rosy wine was in fact represented 
 by one glass of cold gin-and-water 
 which was replenished, as occasion 
 required, from a bottle and jug upon 
 the table, and was passed from one to 
 another, in a scarcity of tumblers which, 
 as Mr. Swiveller's was a bachelor's 
 establishment, may be acknowledged 
 without a blush. By a like pleasant 
 fiction his single chamber was always 
 mentioned in the plural number. In 
 its disengaged times, the tobacconist 
 had announced it in his window as 
 " apartments " for a single gentleman, 
 and Mr. Swiveller, following up the 
 hint, never failed to speak of it as his 
 rooms, his lodgings, or his chambers : 
 conveying to his hearers a notion of 
 
 indefinite space, and leaving their 
 imaginations to wander through long 
 suites of lofty halls, at pleasure. 
 
 In this flight of fancy, Mr. Swiveller 
 was assisted by a deceptive piece of 
 furniture, in reality a bedstead, but in 
 semblance a bookcase, which occupied 
 a prominent situation in his chamber 
 and seemed to defy suspicion and 
 challenge inquiry. There is no doubt 
 that, by day, Mr. Swiveller firmly be- 
 lieved this secret convenience to be a 
 bookcase and nothing more ; that he 
 closed his eyes to the bed, resolutely 
 denied the existence of the blankets, 
 and spurned the bolster from his 
 thoughts. No word of its real use, no 
 hint of its nightly service, no allusion 
 to its peculiar properties, had ever 
 passed between him and his most inti- 
 mate friends. Implicit faith in the 
 deception was the first article of his 
 creed. To be the friend of Swiveller 
 you must reject all circumstantial 
 evidence, all reason, observation, and 
 experience, and repose a blind belief 
 in the bookcase. It was lus pet weak- 
 ness, and he cherished it. 
 
 " Fred ! " said Mr. Swiveller, find- 
 ing that his former adjuration had 
 been productive of no effect " Pass 
 the rosy ! " 
 
 Young Trent, with an impatient ges- 
 ture, pushed the glass towards him, 
 and fell again into the moody attitude 
 from which he had been unwillingly 
 roused. 
 
 " I '11 give you, Fred," said his 
 friend, stirring the mixture, " a little 
 sentiment appropriate to the occasion. 
 
 Here's May the " 
 
 . " Pshaw ! " interposed the other. 
 " You worry me to death with your
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 33 
 
 chattering. You can be merry under 
 any circumstances." 
 
 " Why Mr. Trent," returned Dick, 
 " there is a proverb which talks about 
 being merry and wise. There are 
 some people who can be merry and 
 can 1 be wise, and some who can be 
 wise (or think they can) and can 't be 
 merry. I 'm one of the first sort. If 
 the proverb 's a good 'un, I suppose 
 it's better to keep to half of it than 
 none ; at all events I 'd rather be 
 merry and not wise, than like you 
 neither one nor t' other." 
 
 " Bah ! " muttered his friend, peev- 
 ishly. 
 
 "With all my heart," said Mr. 
 Swiveller. " In the polite circles I 
 believe this sort of thing isn't usually 
 said to a gentleman in his own apart- 
 ments, but never mind that. Make 
 yourself at home." Adding to this 
 retort an observation to the effect 
 that his friend appeared to be rather 
 " cranky " in point of temper, Richard 
 Swiveller finished the rosy and ap- 
 plied himself to the composition of 
 another glassful, in which, after tast- 
 ing it with great relish, he proposed a 
 toast to an imaginary company. 
 
 " Gentlemen, 1 '11 give you if you 
 please Success to the ancient family of 
 the Swivellers, and good luck to Mr. 
 Richard in particular Mr. Richard, 
 gentlemen " said Dick with great em- 
 phasis, " who spends all his money on 
 his friends and is Eah/'d for his pains. 
 Hear, hear ! " 
 
 " Dick ! " said the other, returning 
 to his seat after having paced the room 
 twice or thrice, " will you talk seri- 
 ously for two minutes, if I show you a 
 way to make your fortune with very 
 little trouble ? " 
 
 " You 've shown me so many," re- 
 turned Dick ; "and nothing has come of 
 any one of 'em but empty pockets " 
 
 " You '11 tell a different story of this 
 one, before a very long time is over," 
 said his companion drawing his chair 
 to the table. " You saw my sister 
 Nell ? " 
 
 " What about her ? " returned Dick. 
 
 " She has a pretty face, has she 
 not 1 " 
 
 No. 66. 
 
 " Why, certainly," replied Dick, " I 
 must say for her, that there 's not any 
 very strong family likeness between 
 her and you." 
 
 " Has she a pretty face ? " repeated 
 his friend impatiently. 
 
 " Yes," said Dick, " she has a pretty 
 face, a very pretty face. What of 
 that ? " 
 
 " 1 11 tell you," returned his friend. 
 " It's very plain that the old man and 
 I, will remain at daggers-drawn to the 
 end of our lives, and that I have 
 nothing to expect from him. You see 
 that, I suppose ? " 
 
 " A bat might see that, with the sun 
 shining," said Dick. 
 
 " It 's equally plain that the money 
 which the old flint rot him first 
 taught me to expect that I should 
 share with her at his death, will all be 
 hers, is it not ? " 
 
 " I should say it was," replied Dick ; 
 "unless the way in which I put the 
 case to him, made an impression. It 
 may have done so. It was powerful, 
 Fred. ' Here is a jolly old grand- 
 father ' that was strong, I thought 
 very friendly and natural. Did it 
 strike you in that way ? " 
 
 " It didn't strike him" returned tne 
 other, " so we needn't discuss it. Now 
 look here. Nell is nearly fourteen." 
 
 " Fine girl of her age, but small," 
 observed Richard Swiveller paren- 
 thetically. 
 
 " If I am to go on, be quiet for one 
 minute," returned Trent, fretting at 
 the very slight interest the other ap- 
 peared to take in the conversation. 
 " Now I 'm coming to the point." 
 
 " That 's right," said Dick. 
 
 " The girl has strong affections, and 
 brought up as she has been, may, at her 
 age, be easily influenced and persuaded. 
 If I take her in hand, I will be bound 
 by a very little coaxing and threaten- 
 ing to bend her to my will. Not to 
 beat about the bush (for the advan- 
 tages of the scheme would take a week 
 to tell) what's to prevent your marry- 
 ing her?" 
 
 Richard Swiveller, who had been 
 looking over the rim of the tumbler 
 while his companion addressed the 
 i) 3
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 foregoing remarks to him with great 
 energy and earnestness 6f manner, 
 no sooner heard these words than 
 he evinced the utmost consternation, 
 and with difficulty ejaculated the 
 monosyllable, 
 
 What ! " 
 
 " I say, what 's to prevent," re- 
 peated the other, with a steadiness of 
 manner, of the effect of which upon his 
 companion he was well assured by 
 long experience, "what's to prevent 
 your marrying her 2 " 
 
 " And she ' nearly fourteen ' ! " cried 
 Dick. 
 
 " I don't mean marrying her now " 
 returned the brother angrily ; " say 
 in two years' time, in three, in four. 
 Does the old man look like a long- 
 liver ? " 
 
 " He don't look like it," said Dick 
 shaking his head, " but these old people 
 there's no trusting 'em, Fred. There's 
 an aunt of mine down in Dorsetshire 
 that was going to die when I was eight 
 years old, and hasn't kept her word 
 yet. They 're so aggravating, so un- 
 principled, so spiteful unless there 's 
 apoplexy in the family, Fred, you 
 can't calculate upon 'em, and even 
 then they deceive you just as often as 
 not." 
 
 " Look at the worst side of the 
 question then," said Trent as steadily 
 as before, and keeping his eyes upon 
 his friend. " Suppose he lives." 
 
 ' To be sure," said Dick. There's 
 the rub." 
 
 " I say," resumed his friend, " sup- 
 pose he lives, and I persuaded, or if 
 the word sounds more feasible, forced, 
 Noll to a secret marriage with you. 
 What do you think would come of 
 that " 
 
 " A family and an annual income of 
 nothing, to keep 'em on," said Richard 
 Swiveller after some reflection. 
 
 "I tell you," returned the other 
 with an increased earnestness, which, 
 whether it were real or assumed, had 
 the same effect on his companion, 
 " that he lives for her, that his whole 
 energies and thoughts are bound up in 
 her, that he would no more disinherit 
 her for an act of disobedience than he 
 
 would take me into his favour again 
 for any act of obedience or virtue that 
 I could possibly be guilty of. He 
 could not do it. You or any other 
 man with eyes in his head may see 
 that, if he chooses." 
 
 "It seems improbable certainly," 
 said Dick, musing. 
 
 " It seems improbable because it is 
 improbable," his friend returned. "If 
 you would furnish him with an addi- 
 tional inducement to forgive you, let 
 there be an irreconcileable breach, a 
 most deadly quarrel, between you and 
 me let there be a pretence of such a 
 thing, I mean, of course and he '11 do 
 so fast enough. As to Nell, constant 
 dropping will wear away a stone ; you 
 know you may trust to me as far as 
 she is concerned. So, whether he 
 lives or dies, what does it come to ? 
 That you become the sole inheritor of 
 the wealth of this rich old hunks ; that 
 you and I spend it together ; and that 
 you get, into the bargain, a beautiful 
 young wife." 
 
 " I suppose there 's no doubt about 
 his being rich " said Dick. 
 
 " Doubt ! Did you hear what he let 
 fall the other day when we were 
 there ? Doubt ! What will you doubt 
 next, Dick ? " 
 
 It would be tedious to pursue the 
 conversation through all its artful 
 windings, or to develope the gradual 
 approaches by which the heart of 
 Richard Swiveller was gained. It is 
 sufficient to know that vanity, interest, 
 poverty, and every spendthrift consi- 
 deration urged him to look upon the 
 proposal with favor, and that where 
 all other inducements were wanting, 
 the habitual carelessness of his dispo- 
 sition stepped in and still weighed 
 down the scale on the same side. To 
 these impulses must be added the 
 complete ascendancy which his friend 
 had long been accustomed to exercise 
 over him an ascendancy exerted in 
 the beginning sorely at the e.xpense of 
 the unfortunate Dick's purse and pros- 
 pects, but still maintained without the 
 slightest relaxation, notwithstanding 
 that Dick suffered for all his friend's 
 vices, and was, in nine cases out of ten,
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 35 
 
 looked upon as his designing tempter 
 when he was indeed nothing but his 
 thoughtless light-headed tool. 
 
 The motives on the other side were 
 something deeper than any which 
 Richard Swiveller entertained or un- 
 derstood, but these being left to their 
 own development, require no present 
 elucidation. The negotiation was con- 
 cluded very pleasantly, and Mr. 
 Swiveller was in the act of stating in 
 flowery terms that he had no insur- 
 mountable objection to marrying any- 
 body plentifully endowed with money 
 or moveables, who could be induced to 
 take him, when he was interrupted in 
 his observations by a knock at the 
 door, and the consequent necessity of 
 crying " Come in." 
 
 The door was opened, but nothing 
 came in except a soapy arm and a 
 strong gush of tobacco. The gush of 
 tobacco came from the shop down 
 stairs, and the soapy arm proceeded 
 from the body of a servant girl, who 
 being then and there engaged in clean- 
 ing the stairs had just drawn it out of 
 a warm pail to take in a letter, which 
 letter she now held in her hand ; pro- 
 claiming aloud, with that quick percep- 
 tion of sirnames peculiar to her class, 
 that it was for Mister Snivelling. 
 
 Dick looked rather pale and foolish 
 when he glanced at the direction, and 
 still more so when he came to look at 
 the inside ; observing that this was one 
 of the inconveniences of being a lady's 
 man, and that it was very easy to talk 
 as they had been talking, but he had 
 quite forgotten her. 
 
 " Htr. Who ? " demanded Trent. 
 
 " Sophy Wackles," said Dick. 
 
 "Who's she?" 
 
 " She 's all my fancy painted her, 
 sir, that's what she is," said Mr. 
 Swiveller, taking a long pull at " the 
 rosy" and looking gravely at his 
 friend. "She is lovely, she's divine. 
 You know her." 
 
 " I remember," said his companion 
 carelessly. " What of her ! " 
 
 " Why, sir," returned Dick, " be- 
 tween Miss Sophia Wackles and the 
 
 humble individual who has now the 
 honor to address you, warm and tender 
 sentiments have been engendered 
 sentiments of the most honorable and 
 inspiring kind. The Goddess Diana, 
 sir, that calls aloud for the chace, is 
 not more particular in her behaviour 
 than Sophia Wackles ; I can tell you 
 that." 
 
 " Am I to believe there 's anything 
 real in what you say ? " demanded his 
 friend ; " you don't mean to say that 
 any love-making has been going on ? " 
 
 " Love-making, yes. Promising, 
 no," said Dick. " There can be no 
 action for breach, that 's one comfort. 
 I've never committed myself in 
 writing, Fred." 
 
 " And what 's in the letter pray ? " 
 
 " A reminder, Fred, for to-night 
 a small party of twenty making two 
 hundred light fantastic toes in all, sup- 
 posing every lady and gentleman to 
 have the proper complement. I must 
 go, if it 's only to begin breaking off 
 the affair I'll do it, don't you be 
 afraid. I should like to know whether 
 she left this, herself. If she did, un- 
 conscious of any bar to her happiness, 
 it 's affecting, Fred." 
 
 To solve this question, Mr. Swiveller 
 summoned the handmaid and ascer- 
 tained that Miss Sophy Wackles had 
 indeed left the letter with her own 
 hands ; that she had come accom- 
 panied, for decorum's sake no doubt, 
 by a younger Miss Wackles ; and that 
 on learning that Mr. Swiveller was at 
 home and being requested to walk up 
 stairs, she was extremely shocked and 
 professed that she would rather die. 
 Mr. Swiveller heard this account with 
 a degree of admiration not altogether 
 consistent with the project in which 
 he had just concurred, but his friend 
 attached very little importance to his 
 behaviour in this respect, probably 
 | because he knew that he had influence 
 sufficient to controul Richard Swivel- 
 ler's proceedings in this or any other 
 matter, whenever he deemed it neces- 
 sary, for the advancement of his own 
 purposes, to exert it. 
 
 j. 2
 
 3G 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 BUSINESS disposed of, Mr. Swiveller 
 was inwardly reminded of its being 
 nigh dinner-time, and to the intent 
 that his health might not be endangered 
 by longer abstinence, despatched a mes- 
 sage to the nearest eating-house re- 
 quiring an immediate supply of boiled 
 beef and greens for two. With this 
 demand, however, the eating-house 
 (having experience of its customer) 
 declined to comply, churlishly sending 
 back for answer that if Mr. Swiveller 
 stood in need of beef perhaps he would 
 be so obliging as to come there and 
 eat it, bringing with him, as grace be- 
 fore meat, the amount of a certain 
 small account which had been long 
 outstanding. Not at all intimidated 
 by this rebuff, but rather sharpened 
 in wits and appetite, Mr. Swiveller 
 forwarded the same message to another 
 and more distant eating-house, adding 
 to it by way of rider that the gentle- 
 man was induced to send so far, not 
 only by the great fame and popularity 
 'its beef had acquired, but in conse- 
 quence of the extreme toughness of 
 the beef retailed at the obdurate cook's 
 shop, which rendered it quite unfit not 
 merely for gentlemanly food but for 
 any human consumption. The good 
 effect of this politic course was de- 
 monstrated by the speedy arrival of a 
 small pewter pyramid, curiously con- 
 structed of platters and covers, where- 
 of the boiled-beef-plates formed the 
 base, and a foaming quart-pot the 
 apex ; the structure being resolved 
 into its component parts afforded all 
 things requisite and necessary for a 
 hearty meal, to which Mr. Swiveller 
 and his friend applied themselves with 
 great keenness and enjoyment. 
 
 " May the present moment," said 
 Dick, sticking his fork into a large 
 carbuncular potatoe, "be the worst of 
 our lives ! I like this plan of sending 
 'em with the peel on ; there 's a charm 
 in drawing a potatoe from its native 
 element (if I may so express it) to 
 which the rich and powerful are stran- 
 
 gers. Ah ! ' Man wants but little hero 
 below, nor wants that little long ! ' 
 How true that is ! after dinner." 
 
 " I hope the eating-house keeper 
 will want but little and that he may 
 not want that little long," returned his 
 companion ; " but I suspect you 've 
 no means of paying for this ! " 
 
 "I shall be passing presently, and 
 I '11 call," said Dick, winking his eye 
 significantly. " The waiter 's quite 
 helpless. The goods are gone, Fred, 
 and there 's an end of it." 
 
 In point of fact, it would seem that 
 the waiter felt this wholesome truth, 
 for when he returned for the empty 
 plates and dishes and was informed 
 by Mr. Swiveller with dignified care- 
 lessness that he would call and settle 
 when he should be passing presently, 
 he displayed some perturbation of 
 spirit, and muttered a few remarks 
 about " payment on delivery," and 
 " no trust," and other unpleasant sub- 
 jects, but was fain to content himself 
 with inquiring at what hour it was 
 likely the gentleman would call, in 
 order that being personally responsi- 
 ble for the beef, greens, and sundries, 
 he might take care to be hi the way at 
 the time. Mr. Swiveller, after men- 
 tally calculating his engagements to a 
 nicety, replied that he should look in 
 at from two minutes before six to 
 seven minutes past ; and the man dis- 
 appearing with this feeble consolation, 
 Richard Swiveller took a greasy me- 
 morandum-book from his pocket and 
 made an entry therein. 
 
 " Is that a reminder, in case you 
 should forget to call 1 " said Trent 
 with a sneer. 
 
 " Not exactly, Fred," replied the 
 imperturbable Richard, continuing to 
 write with a business-like air, " I 
 enter in this little book the names of 
 the streets that I can't go down while 
 the shops are open. This dinner to- 
 day closes Long Acre. I bought a 
 pair of boots in Great Queen Street 
 last week, and made that no thorough-
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 37 
 
 fare too. There 's only one avenue to 
 the Strand left open now, and I shall 
 have to stop up that to-night with a pair 
 of gloves. The roads are closing so 
 fast in every direction, that in about a 
 month's time, unless my aunt sends 
 me a remittance, I shall have to go 
 three or four miles out of town to get 
 over the way." 
 
 " There 's no fear of her failing, in 
 the end ? " said Trent. 
 
 " Why, I hope not," returned Mr. 
 Swiveller, "but the average number 
 of letters it takes to soften her is six, 
 and this time we have got as far as 
 eight without any effect at all. I '11 
 write another to-morrow morning. I 
 mean to blot it a good deal and shake 
 some water over it out of the pepper- 
 castor, to make it look penitent. ' I 'm 
 in such a state of mind that I hardly 
 know what I write ' blot ' if you 
 could see me at this minute shedding 
 tears for my past misconduct' pep- 
 per-castor 'my hand trembles when 
 I think' blot again if that don't 
 produce the effect, it 's all over." 
 
 By this time Mr. Swiveller had 
 finished his entry, and he now re- 
 placed his pencil in its little sheath 
 and closed the book, in a perfectly 
 grave and serious frame of mind. His 
 friend discovered that it was tune for 
 him to fulfil some other engagement, 
 and Richard Swiveller was accordingly 
 left alone, in company with the rosy 
 wine and his own meditations touch- 
 ing Miss Sophy Wacklts. 
 
 " It 's rather sudden," said Dick 
 shaking his head with a look of infinite 
 wisdom, and running on (as he was 
 accustomed to do) with scraps of 
 verse as if they were only prose in a 
 hurry ; " when the heart of a man is 
 depressed with fears, the mist is dis- 
 pelled when Miss Wackles appears : 
 she 's a very nice girl. She 's like the 
 red red rose that's newly sprung in 
 June there 's no denying that she 's 
 also like a melody that 's sweetly played 
 in tune. It 's really very sudden. Not 
 that there 's any need, on account of 
 Fred's little sister, to turn cool directly, 
 but it 's better not to go too far. If I 
 begin to cool at all I must begin at 
 
 once, I see that. There 's the chance 
 of an action for breach, that's one 
 reason. There 's the chance of Sophy's 
 getting another husband, that's ano- 
 ther. There 's the chance of no, 
 there 's no chance of that, but it 's as 
 well to be on the safe side." 
 
 This undeveloped consideration was 
 the possibility, which Richard Swivel- 
 ler sought to conceal even from him- 
 self, of his not being proof against the 
 charms of Miss Wackles, and in some 
 unguarded moment, by linking his for- 
 tunes to hers for ever, of putting it 
 out of his own power to further the 
 notable scheme to which he had so 
 readily become a party. For all these 
 reasons, he decided to pick a quarrel 
 with Miss Wackles without delay, and 
 casting about for a pretext determined 
 in favour of groundless jealousy. Hav- 
 ing made up his mind on this impor- 
 tant point, he circulated the glass 
 (from his right hand to his left, and 
 back again) pretty freely, to enable 
 him to act his part with the greater 
 discretion, and then, after making 
 some slight improvements in his toilet, 
 bent his steps towards the spot hal- 
 lowed by the fair object of his medi- 
 tations. 
 
 This spot was at Chelsea, for there 
 Miss Sophia Wackles resided with her 
 widowed mother and two sisters, in 
 conjunction with whom she maintained 
 a very small day-school for young ladies 
 of proportionate dimensions ; a circum- 
 stance which was made known to the 
 neighbourhood by an oval board over 
 the front first-floor window, whereon 
 appeared, in circumambient flourishes, 
 the words " Ladies' Seminary ; " and 
 which was further published and pro- 
 claimed at intervals, between the hours 
 of half-past nine and ten in the morn- 
 ing, by a straggling and solitary young 
 lady of tender years standing on the 
 scraper on the tips of her toes and 
 making futile attempts to reach the 
 knocker with a spelling-book. The 
 several duties of instruction in this 
 establishment were thus discharged. 
 English grammar, composition, geo- 
 graphy, and the use of the dumb-bells, 
 by Miss Melissa Wackles ; writing,
 
 38 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 arithmetic, dancing, music, and general 
 fascination, by Miss Sophy Wackles ; 
 the art of needle-work, marking, and 
 samplery, by Miss Jane Wackles ; 
 corporal punishment, fasting, and other 
 tortures and terrors, by Mrs. Wackles. 
 Miss Melissa Wackles was the eldest 
 daughter, Miss Sophy the next, and 
 Miss Jane the youngest. Miss Melissa 
 might have seen five-and-thirty sum- 
 mers or thereabouts, and verged on 
 the autumnal ; Miss Sophy was a fresh, 
 good-humoured, buxom girl of twenty ; 
 and Miss Jane numbered scarcely six- 
 teen years. Mrs. Wackles was an 
 excellent, but rather venomous old lady 
 of three-score. 
 
 To this Ladies' Seminary then, 
 Richard Swiveller hied, with designs 
 obnoxious to the peace of the fair 
 Sophia, who, arrayed in virgin white, 
 embellished by no ornament but one 
 blushing rose, received him on his 
 arrival, in the midst of very elegant 
 not to say brilliant preparations ; such 
 as the embellishment of the room with 
 the little flower-pots which always 
 stood on the window-sill outside, save 
 in windy weather when they blew into 
 the area ; the choice attire of the day- 
 scholars who were allowed to grace the 
 festival ; the unwonted curls of Miss 
 Jane Wackles who had kept her head 
 during the whole of the preceding day 
 screwed up tight in a yellow play-bill ; 
 and the solemn gentility and stately 
 bearing of the old lady and her eldest 
 daughter, which struck Mr. Swiveller 
 as being uncommon but made no fur- 
 ther impression upon him. 
 
 The truth is and, as there is no 
 accounting for tastes, even a taste so 
 strange as this may be recorded with- 
 out being looked upon as a wilful and 
 malicious invention the truth is, that 
 neither Mrs. Wackles nor her eldest 
 daughter had at any time greatly 
 favoured the pretensions of Mr. Swi- 
 veller : they being accustomed to make 
 slight mention of him as " a gay young 
 man " and to sigh and shake their 
 headsominously,wheneverhis name was 
 mentioned. Mr. Swiveller's conduct 
 in respect to Miss Sophy having been 
 of that vague and dilatory kind which 
 
 is usually looked upon as betokening 
 no fixed matrimonial intentions, the 
 young lady herself began in course of 
 time to deem it highly desirable, that 
 it should be brought to an issue one 
 way or other. Hence, she had at last 
 consented to play off, against Richard 
 Swiveller, a stricken market-gardener 
 known to be ready with his offer on 
 the smallest encouragement, and hence 
 as this occasion had been specially 
 assigned for the purpose that great 
 anxiety on her part for Richard Swi- 
 veller's presence which had occasioned 
 her to leave the note he has been seen 
 to receive. " If he has any expecta- 
 tions at all or any means of keeping a 
 wife well," said Mrs. Wackles to her 
 eldest daughter, " he '11 state 'em to 
 us now or never." " If he really cares 
 about me," thought Miss Sophy, " he 
 must tell me so, to-night." 
 
 But all these sayings and doings and 
 thinkings being unknown to Mr. Swi- 
 veller, affected him not in the least ; 
 he was debating in his mind how he 
 could best turn jealous, and wishing 
 that Sophy were, for that occasion only, 
 far less pretty than she was, or that 
 she were her own sister, which would 
 have served his turn as well, when the 
 company came, and among them the 
 market-gardener, whose name was 
 Cheggs. But Mr. Cheggs came not 
 alone or unsupported, for he prudently 
 brought along with him his sister, Miss 
 Cheggs, who making straight to Miss 
 Sophy and taking her by both hands, 
 and kissing her on both cheeks, hoped 
 in an audible whisper that they had 
 not come too early. 
 
 " Too early, no ! " replied Miss Sophy. 
 
 " Oh my dear," rejoined Miss 
 Cheggs in the same whisper as before, 
 " I 've been so tormented, so worried, 
 that it 's a mercy we were not here at 
 four o'clock in the afternoon. Alick 
 has been in such a state of impatience 
 to come ! You'd hardly believe that 
 he was dressed before dinner-time and 
 has been looking at the clock and teas- 
 ing me ever since. It 's all your fault, 
 you naughty thing." 
 
 Hereupon Miss Sophy blushed, and 
 Mr. Cheggs (who was bashful before
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 ladies) blushed too, and Miss Sophy's 
 mother and sistera, to prevent Mr. 
 Cheggs from blushing more, lavished 
 civilities and attentions upon him, and 
 left Richard Swiveller to take care of 
 himself. Here was the very thing he 
 wanted ; here was good cause, reason, 
 and foundation, for pretending to be 
 angry ; but having this cause, reason, 
 and foundation which he had come 
 expressly to seek, not expecting to find, 
 Richard Swiveller was angry in sound 
 earnest, and wondered what the devil 
 Cheggs meant by his impudence. 
 
 However, Mr. Swiveller had Miss 
 Sophy's hand for the first quadrille 
 (country-dances being low, were utterly 
 proscribed) and so gained an advantage 
 over his rival, who sat despondingly in 
 a corner and contemplated the glorious 
 figure of the young lady as she moved 
 through the mazy dance. Nor was 
 this the only start Mr. Swiveller had 
 of the market-gardener ; for, determin- 
 ing to show the family what quality of 
 man they trifled with, and influenced 
 perhaps by his late libations, he per- 
 formed such feats of agility and such 
 spins and twirls as filled the company 
 with astonishment, and in particular 
 caused a very long gentleman who was 
 dancing with a very short scholar, to 
 stand quite transfixed by wonder and 
 admiration. Even Mrs. Wackles forgot 
 for the moment to snub three small 
 young ladies who were inclined to be 
 happy, and could not repress a rising 
 thought that to have such a dancer as 
 that in the family would be a pride 
 indeed. 
 
 At this momentous crisis, Miss 
 Cheggs proved herself a vigorous and 
 useful ally; for, not confining herself to 
 expressing by scornful smiles a con- 
 tempt for Mr. Swiveller's accomplish- 
 ments, she took every opportunity of 
 whispering into Miss Sophy's ear ex- 
 pressions of condolence and sympathy 
 on her being worried by such a ridi- 
 culous creature, declaring that she 
 was frightened to death lest Alick 
 should fall upon him, and beat him, in 
 the fulness of his wrath, and entreat- 
 ing Miss Sophy to observe how the 
 eyes of the said Alick gleamed with 
 
 love and fury ; passions, it may be 
 observed, which being too much for 
 his eyes rushed into his nose also, 
 and suffused it with a crimson glow. 
 
 " You must dance with Miss 
 Cheggs," said Miss Sophy to Dick 
 Swiveller, after she had herself danced 
 twice with Mr. Cheggs and made great 
 show of encouraging his advances. 
 " She 's such a nice girl and her 
 brother 's quite delightful." 
 
 " Quite delightful is he ? " muttered 
 Dick. " Quite delighted too, I should 
 say, from the manner in which he 's 
 looking this way." 
 
 Here Miss Jane (previously in- 
 structed for the purpose) interposed 
 her many curls and whispered her 
 sister to observe how jealous Mr. 
 Cheggs was. 
 
 " Jealous ! Like his impudence ! " 
 said Richard Swiveller. 
 
 " His impudence, Mr. Swiveller ! " 
 said Miss Jane, tossing her head. 
 " Take care he don't hear you, sir, or 
 you may be sorry for it." 
 
 " Oh pray, Jane " said Miss Sophy. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " replied her sister. 
 " Why shouldn't Mr. Cheggs be jea- 
 lous if he likes? I like that, cer- 
 tainly. Mr. Cheggs has as good a 
 right to be jealous as anybody else 
 has, and perhaps he may have a better 
 right soon if he hasn't already. You 
 know best about that, Sophy ! " 
 
 Though this was a concerted plot 
 between Miss Sophy and her sister, 
 originating in humane intentions and 
 having for its object the inducing Mr. 
 Swiveller to declare himself in time, 
 it failed in its effect ; for Miss Jane 
 being one of those young ladies who 
 are prematurely shrill and shrewish, 
 gave such undue importance to her 
 part that Mr. Swiveller retired in 
 dudgeon, resigning his mistress to Mr. 
 Cheggs and conveying a defiance into 
 his looks which that gentleman indig- 
 nantly returned. 
 
 " Did you speak to me, sir ? " said 
 Mr. Cheggs, following him into a cor- 
 ner. " Have the kindness to smile 
 sir, in order that we may not be sus- 
 pected. Did you speak to me, sir \ " 
 
 Mr. Swiveller looked with a super-
 
 40 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 cilions smile at Mr. Cheggs's toes, then 
 raised his eyes from them to his ancle, 
 from that to his shin, from that to his 
 knee, and so on very gradually, keep- 
 ing up his right leg, until he reached 
 his waistcoat, when he raised his eyes 
 from button to button until he reached 
 his chin, and travelling straight up the 
 middle of his nose came at last to his 
 eyes, when he said abruptly, 
 
 No sir, I didn't." 
 
 " Hem ! " said Mr. Cheggs, glancing 
 over his shoulder, " have the goodness 
 to smile again, sir. Perhaps you 
 wished to speak to me, sir." 
 
 " No, sir, I didn't do that, either." 
 
 " Perhaps you may have nothing to 
 say to me now, sir," said Mr. Cheggs 
 fiercely. 
 
 At these words, Richard Swiveller 
 withdrew his eyes from Mr. Cheggs's 
 face, and travelling down the middle 
 of his nose, and down his waistcoat, and 
 down his right leg, reached his toes 
 again, and carefully surveyed them ; 
 this done, he crossed over, and coming 
 up the other leg, and thence approach- 
 ing by the waistcoat as before, said 
 when he had got to his eyes " No, sir, 
 I haven't." 
 
 " Oh indeed, sir ! " said Mr. Cheggs. 
 " I 'm glad to hear it. You know 
 where I 'm to be found, I suppose, sir, 
 in case you should have anything to 
 say to me ? " 
 
 " I can easily inquire, sir, when I 
 want to know." 
 
 " There 's nothing more we need 
 say, I believe, sir ? " 
 
 "Nothing more, sir" With that 
 they closed the tremendous dialogue 
 by frowning mutually. Mr. Cheggs 
 hastened to tender his hand to Miss 
 Sophy, and Mr. Swiveller sat himself 
 down in a corner in a very moody 
 state. 
 
 Hard by this corner, Mrs. Wackles 
 and Miss Wackles were seated, looking 
 on at the dance ; and unto Mrs. and 
 Miss Wackles, Miss Cheggs occasion- 
 ally darted when her partner was 
 occupied with his share of the figure, 
 and made some remark or other which 
 was gall and wormwood to Richard 
 dSwiveller's soul. Looking into the 
 
 eyes of Mrs. and Miss Wackles for 
 encouragement, and sitting very up- 
 right and uncomfortable on a couple 
 of hard stools, were two of the day- 
 scholars ; and when Miss Wackles 
 smiled, and Mrs. Wackles smiled, the 
 two little girls on the stools sought to 
 curry favour by smiling likewise, in 
 gracious acknowledgment of which 
 attention the old lady frowned them 
 down instantly, and said that if they 
 dared to be guilty of such an imperti- 
 nence again, they should be sent under 
 convoy to their respective homes. 
 This threat caused one of the young 
 ladies, she being of a weak and .trem- 
 bling temperament, to shed tears, and 
 for this offence they were both filed off 
 immediately, with a dreadful promp- 
 titude that struck terror into the souls 
 of all the pupils. 
 
 " I 've got such news for you," said 
 Miss Cheggs approaching once more, 
 " Alick has been saying such things to 
 Sophy. Upon my word, you know, 
 it 's quite serious and in earnest, that's 
 clear." 
 
 " What 's he been saying, my dear 1 " 
 demanded Mrs. Wackles. 
 
 " All manner of things," replied 
 Miss Cheggs, "you can't think how 
 out he has been speaking ! " 
 
 Richard Swiveller considered it ad- 
 visable to hear no more, but taking 
 advantage of a pause in the dancing, 
 and the approach of Mr. Cheggs to 
 pay his court to the old lady, swag- 
 gered with an extremely careful 
 assumption of extreme carelessness 
 towards the door, passing on the way 
 Miss Jane Wackles, who in all the 
 glory of her curls was holding a flirta- 
 tion (as good practice when no better 
 was to be had) with a feeble old gen- 
 tleman who lodged in the parlour. 
 Near the door sat Miss Sophy, still 
 fluttered and confused by the atten- 
 tions of Mr. Cheggs, and by her side 
 Richard Swiveller lingered for a mo- 
 ment to exchange a few parting words. 
 
 " My boat is on the shore and my 
 bark is on the sea, but before I pass 
 this door I will say farewell to thee," 
 murmured Dick, looking gloomily upon 
 her.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 41 
 
 " Are you going ? " said Miss Sophy, 
 whose heart sunk within her at the 
 result of her stratagem, but who 
 affected a light indifference notwith- 
 standing. 
 
 " Am I going ! " echoed Dick bit- 
 terly. " Yes, I am. What then ? " 
 
 " Nothing, except that it 's very 
 early," said Miss Sophy ; " but you are 
 your own master of course." 
 
 " I would that I had been my own 
 mistress too," said Dick, " before I 
 had ever entertained a thought of you. 
 Miss Wackles, I believed you true, 
 and I was blest in so believing, but 
 now I mourn that e'er I knew, a girl 
 so fair yet so deceiving." 
 
 Miss Sophy bit her lip and affected 
 to look with great interest after Mr. 
 Cheggs, who was quaffing lemonade in 
 the distance. 
 
 "I came here," said Dick, rather 
 oblivious of the purpose with which he 
 had really come, "with my bosom 
 expanded, my heart dilated, and my 
 sentiments of a corresponding descrip- 
 tion. I go away with feelings that 
 may be conceived, but cannot be de- 
 scribed : feeling within myself the 
 desolating truth that my best affec- 
 tions have experienced, this night, a 
 stifler ! " 
 
 " I am sure I don't know what you 
 mean, Mr. Swiveller," said Miss 
 Sophy with downcast eyes. " I 'm 
 very sorry if " 
 
 " Sorry, ma'am ! " said Dick, "sorry 
 in the possession of a Cheggs ! But I 
 
 wish you a very good night : concluding 
 with this slight remark, that there is a 
 young lady growing up at this present 
 moment for me, who has not only 
 great personal attractions but great 
 wealth, and who has requested her 
 next of kin to propose for my hand, 
 which, having a regard for some mem- 
 bers of her family, I have consented 
 to promise. It 's a gratifying circum- 
 stance which you'll be glad to hear, 
 that a young and lovely girl is growing 
 into a woman expressly on my account, 
 and is now saving up for me. I 
 thought I 'd mention it. I have now 
 merely to apologise for trespassing so 
 long upon your attention. Good night!" 
 
 " There 's one good thing springs 
 out of all this," said Richard Swiveller 
 to himself when he had reached home 
 and was hanging over the candle with 
 the extinguisher in his hand, " which 
 is, that I now go heart and soul, neck 
 and heels, with Fred in all his scheme 
 about little Nelly, and right glad he '11 
 be to find me so strong upon it. He 
 shall know all about that to-morrow, 
 and in the mean time, as it 's rather 
 late, I '11 try and get a wink or two of 
 the balmy." 
 
 " The balmy " came almost as soon 
 as it was courted. In a very few 
 minutes Mr. Swiveller was fast asleep, 
 dreaming that he had married Nelly 
 Trent and come into the property, and 
 that his first act of power was to lay 
 waste the market - garden of Mr. 
 Cheggs and turn it into a brick-field.
 
 42 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE child, in her confidence with | could, for a moment, disengage his 
 
 Mrs. Quilp, had but feebly described 
 the sadness and sorrow of her thoughts, 
 or the heaviness of the cloud which 
 overhung her home, and cast dark 
 shadows on its hearth. Besides that 
 it was very difficult to impart to any 
 person not intimately acquainted with 
 the life she led, an adequate sense of 
 its gloom and loneliness, a constant 
 fear of in some way committing or 
 injuring the old man to whom she was 
 so tenderly attached, had restrained 
 her, even in the midst of her heart's 
 overflowing, and made her timid of 
 
 mind from the phantom that haunted 
 and brooded on it always, there was 
 his young companion with the same 
 smile for him, the same earnest words, 
 the same merry laugh, the same love 
 | and care that, sinking deep into his 
 
 allusion to the main cause of her 
 anxiety and distress. 
 
 For, it was not the monotonous days 
 uhchequered by variety and uncheered 
 by pleasant companionship, it was not 
 the dark dreary evenings or the long 
 solitary nights, it was not the absence 
 of every slight and easy pleasure for 
 which young hearts beat high, or the 
 knowing nothing of childhood but its 
 weakness and its easily wounded spirit, 
 that had wrung such tears from Nell. 
 To see the old man struck down be- 
 neath the pressure of some hidden 
 grief, to mark his wavering and un- 
 settled state, to be agitated at times 
 with a dreadful fear that his mind was 
 wandering, and to trace in his words 
 and looks the dawning of despondent 
 madness ; to watch and wait and listen 
 for confirmation of these things day 
 after day, and to feel and know that, 
 come what might, they were alone in 
 the world with no one to help or 
 advise or care about them these 
 were causes of depression and anxiety 
 that might have sat heavily on an 
 older breast with many influences at 
 work to cheer and gladden it, but 
 how heavily on the mind of a young 
 child to whom they were ever present, 
 and who was constantly surrounded 
 by all that could keep such thoughts 
 in restless action ! 
 
 And yet, to the old man's vision, 
 Nell was still the same. When he 
 
 him through his whole life. And so 
 he went on, content to read the book 
 of her heart from the page first pre- 
 sented to him, little dreaming of the 
 story that lay hidden in its other 
 leaves, and murmuring within himself 
 that at least the child was happy. 
 
 She had been once. She had gone 
 singing through the dim rooms, and 
 moving with gay and lightsome step 
 among their dusty treasures, making 
 them older by her young life, and 
 sterner and more grim by her gay and 
 cheerful presence. But, now, the cham- 
 bers were cold and gloomy, and when 
 she left her own little room to while 
 away the tedious hours, and sat in one 
 of them, she was still and motionless 
 as their inanimate occupants, and had 
 no heart to startle the echoes hoarse 
 from their long silence with her 
 Dice. 
 
 In one of these rooms, was a window 
 looking into the street, where the 
 child sat, many and many a long even- 
 ing, and often far into the night, alone 
 and thoughtful. None are so anxious 
 as those who watch and wait ; at 
 these times, mournful fancies came 
 flocking on her mind, in crowds. 
 
 She would take her station here, at 
 dusk, and watch the people as they 
 passed up and down the street, or 
 appeared at the windows of the oppo- 
 site houses ; wondering whether those 
 rooms were as lonesome as that in 
 which she sat, and whether those 
 people felt it company to see her 
 sitting there, as she did only to see 
 them look out and draw in their heads 
 again. There was a crooked stack of 
 chimneys on one of the roofs, in which, 
 by often looking at them, she had
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 43 
 
 fancied ugly faces that were frowning 
 over at her and trying to peer into the 
 room ; and she felt glad when it grew 
 too dark to make them out, though 
 she was sorry too, when the man 
 came to light the lamps in the street 
 for it made it late, and very dull 
 inside. Then, she would draw in her 
 head to look round the room and see 
 that everything was in its place and 
 hadn't moved ; and looking out into 
 the street again, would perhaps see a 
 man passing with a coffin on his back, 
 and two or three others silently fol- 
 lowing him to a house where some- 
 body lay dead ; which made her 
 shudder and think of such things 
 until they suggested afresh the old 
 man's altered face and manner, and a 
 new train of fears and speculations. 
 If he were to die if sudden illness 
 had happened to him, and he were 
 never to come home again, alive if, 
 one night, he should come home, and 
 kiss and bless her as usual, and after 
 she had gone to bed and had fallen 
 asleep and was perhaps dreaming 
 pleasantly, and smiling in her sleep, 
 he should kill himself and his blood 
 come creeping, creeping, on the ground 
 to her own bed-room door These 
 thoughts were too terrible to dwell 
 upon, and again she would have 
 recourse to the street, now trodden by 
 fewer feet, and darker and more silent 
 than before. The shops were closing 
 fast, and lights began to shine from 
 the upper windows, as the neighbours 
 went to bed. By degrees, these 
 dwindled away and disappeared, or 
 were replaced, here and there, by a 
 feeble rush-candle which was to burn 
 all night. Still, there was one late shop 
 at no great distance which sent forth 
 a ruddy glare upon the pavement even 
 yet, and looked bright and companion- 
 able. But, in a little time, this closed, 
 the light was extinguished, and all 
 was gloomy and quiet, except when 
 some stray footsteps sounded on the 
 pavement, or a neighbour, out later 
 than his wont, knocked lustily at his 
 house-door to rouse the sleeping 
 inmates. 
 
 When the night had worn away 
 
 thus far (and seldom now until it had) 
 the child would close the window, and 
 steal softly down stairs, thinking as 
 she went that if one of those hideous 
 faces below, which often mingled with 
 her dreams, were to meet her by the 
 way, rendering itself visible by some 
 strange light of its own, how terrified 
 she would be. But these fears vanished 
 before a well-trimmed lamp and the 
 familiar aspect of her own room. 
 After praying fervently,and with many 
 bursting tears, for the old man, and the 
 restoration of his peace of mind 
 and the happiness they had once 
 enjoyed, she would lay her head upon 
 the pillow and sob herself to sleep : 
 often starting up again, before the 
 day-light came, to listen for the bell, 
 and respond to the imaginary sum- 
 mons which had roused her from her 
 slumber. 
 
 One night, the third after Nelly's 
 interview with Mrs. Quilp, the old 
 man, who had been weak and ill all 
 day, said he should not leave home. 
 The child's eyes sparkled at the intel- 
 ligence, but her joy subsided when 
 they reverted to his worn and sickly 
 face. 
 
 " Two days," he said, " two whole, 
 clear, days have passed, and there is 
 no reply. What did he tell thee, 
 Nell ? " 
 
 " Exactly what I told you, dear 
 grandfather, indeed." 
 
 " True," said the old man, faintly. 
 " Yes. But tell me again, Nell. My 
 head fails me. What was it that he 
 told thee ? Nothing more than that 
 he would see me to-morrow or next 
 day ? That was in the note." 
 
 "Nothing more," said the child. 
 " Shall I go to him again to-morrow, 
 dear grandfather ? Very early ? I 
 will be there and back, before break- 
 fast." 
 
 The old man shook his head, and 
 sighing mournfully, drew her towards 
 him. j 
 
 " 'Twould be of no use, my dear, no 
 earthly use. But if he deserts me, 
 Nell, at this moment if he deserts 
 me now, when I should, with his 
 assistance, be recompensed for all the
 
 44 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 time and money I have lost, and all 
 the agony of mind I have undergone, 
 which makes me what you see, I 
 am ruined, and worse, far worse 
 than that have ruined thee, for 
 whom I ventured all. If we are 
 beggars !" 
 
 " What if we are?" said the child 
 boldly. Let us be beggars, and be 
 happy." 
 
 " Beggars and happy ! " said the 
 old man. " Poor child ! " 
 
 " Dear grandfather," cried the girl 
 with an energy which shone in her 
 flushed face, trembling voice, and im- 
 passioned gesture, " I am not a child 
 in that I think, but even if I am, oh 
 hear me pray that we may beg, or 
 work in open roads or fields, to earn a 
 scanty living, rather than live as we 
 do now." 
 
 " Nelly ! " said the old man. 
 
 " Yes, yes, rather than live as we 
 do now," the child repeated, more 
 earnestly than before. "If you are 
 sorrowful, let me know why and be 
 sorrowful too ; if you waste away and 
 are paler and weaker every day, let 
 me be your nurse and try to comfort 
 you. If you are poor, let us be poor 
 together ; but let me be with you, do 
 let me be with you ; do not let me see 
 such change and not know why, or I 
 shall break my heart and die. Dear 
 grandfather, let us leave this sad place 
 to-morrow, and beg our way from door 
 to door." 
 
 The old man covered his face with 
 his hands, and hid it in the pillow of 
 the couch on which he lay. 
 
 " Let us be beggars," said the child 
 passing an arm round his neck, "I 
 have no fear but we shall have enough, 
 I am sure we shall. Let us walk 
 through country places, and sleep in 
 fields and under trees, and never think 
 of money again, or any thing that can 
 make you sad, but rest at nights, and 
 have the sun and wind upon our faces 
 ' in the day, and thank God together ! 
 Let us never set foot in dark rooms or 
 melancholy houses, any more, but 
 wander up and down wherever we like 
 to go ; and when you are tired, you 
 shall stop to rest in the pleasantest 
 
 place that we can find, and I will go 
 and beg for both." 
 
 The child's voice was lost in sobs as 
 she dropped upon the old man's neck ; 
 nor did she weep alone. 
 
 These were not words for other 
 ears, nor was it a scene for other eyes. 
 And yet other ears and eyes were 
 there and greedily taking in all that 
 passed, and moreover they were the 
 ears and eyes of no less a person than 
 Mr. Daniel Quilp, who, having entered 
 unseen when the child first placed 
 herself at the old man's side, refrained 
 actuated, no doubt, by motives of 
 the purest delicacy from interrupting 
 the conversation, and stood looking on 
 with his accustomed grin. Standing, 
 however, being a tiresome attitude to 
 a gentleman already fatigued with 
 walking, and the dwarf being one of 
 that kind of persons who usually make 
 themselves at home, he soon cast his 
 eyes upon a chair, into which he 
 skipped with uncommon agility, and 
 perching himself on the back with his 
 feet upon the seat, was thus enabled to 
 look on and listen with greater com- 
 fort to himself, besides gratifying at 
 the same time that taste for doing 
 something fantastic and monkey-like, 
 which on all occasions had strong pos- 
 session of him. Here, then, he sat, 
 one leg cocked carelessly over the 
 other, his chin resting on the palm of 
 his hand, his head turned a little on 
 one side, and his ugly features twisted 
 into a complacent grimace. And in 
 this position the old man, happening 
 in course of time to look that way, at 
 length chanced to see him : to his 
 unbounded astonishment. 
 
 The child uttered a suppressed 
 shriek on beholding this agreeable 
 figure ; in their first surprise both she 
 and the old man, not knowing what to 
 say, and half doubting its reality, 
 looked shrinkingly at it. Not at all 
 disconcerted by this reception, Daniel 
 Quilp preserved the same attitude, 
 merely nodding twice or thrice with 
 great condescension. At length, the 
 old man pronounced his name, and 
 inquired how he came there. 
 
 " Through the door," said Quilp
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 45 
 
 pointing over his shoulder with his 
 thumb. " I 'm not quite small enough 
 to get through key-holes. I wish I 
 was. I want to have some talk with 
 you, particularly, and in private with 
 nobody present, neighbour. Good bye, 
 little Nelly." 
 
 Nell looked at the old man, who 
 nodded to her to retire, and kissed her 
 cheek. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the dwarf, smacking 
 his lips, " what a nice kiss that was 
 just upon the rosy part. What a capital 
 kiss ! " 
 
 Nell was none the slower in going 
 away, for this remark. Quilp looked 
 after her with an admiring leer, and 
 when she had closed the door, fell to 
 complimenting the old man upon her 
 charms. 
 
 " Such a fresh, blooming, modest 
 little bud, neighbour," said Quilp, 
 nursing his short leg, and making his 
 eyes twinkle very much ; " such a 
 chubby, rosy, cosy, little Nell ! " 
 
 The old man answered by a forced 
 smile, and was plainly struggling with 
 a feeling of the keenest and most ex- 
 quisite impatience. It was not lost 
 upon Quilp, who delighted in torturing 
 him, or indeed anybody else, when he 
 could. 
 
 " She 's so," said Quilp, speaking 
 very slowly, and feigning to be quite 
 absorbed in the subject, "so small, so 
 compact, so beautifully modelled, so 
 fair, with such blue veins and such a 
 transparent skin, and such little feet, 
 and such winning ways but bless 
 me, you 're nervous ! Why neighbour, 
 what 's the matter ? I swear to you," 
 continued the dwarf dismounting from 
 the chair and sitting down in it, with a 
 careful slowness of gesture very dif- 
 ferent from the rapidity with which 
 he had sprung up unheard, " I swear 
 to you that I had no idea old blood 
 ran so fast or kept so warm. I thought 
 it was sluggish in its course, and cool, 
 quite cool. I am pretty sure it ought 
 to be. Yours must be out of order, 
 neighbour." 
 
 " I believe it is," groaned the old 
 man, clasping his head with both hands. 
 ' There 's burning fever here, and 
 
 something now and then to which I 
 fear to give a name." 
 
 The dwarf said never a word, but 
 watched his companion as he paced 
 restlessly up and down the room, and 
 presently returned to his seat. Here 
 he remained, with his head bowed upon 
 his breast for some time, and then 
 suddenly raising it, said, 
 
 " Once, and once for all, have you 
 brought me any money I " 
 
 " No ! " returned Quilp. 
 
 " Then," said the old man, clenching 
 his hands desperately, and looking up- 
 ward, " the child and I are lost ! " 
 
 " Neighbour," said Quilp glancing 
 sternly at him, and beating his hand 
 twice or thrice upon the table to 
 attract his wandering attention, "let 
 me be plain with you, and play a fairer 
 game than when you held all the cards, 
 and I saw but the backs and nothing 
 more. You have no secret from me 
 now." 
 
 The old man looked up, trembling. 
 
 " You are surprised," said Quilp. 
 " Well, perhaps that's natural. You 
 have no secret from me now, I say ; 
 no, not one. For now, I know, that all 
 those sums of money, that all those 
 loans, advances, and supplies that you 
 have had from me, have found their 
 way to shall I say the word ? " 
 
 " Aye !" replied the old man, " say it, 
 if you will." 
 
 " To the gaming-table," rejoined 
 Quilp, " your nightly haunt. This 
 was the precious scheme to make your 
 fortune, was it ; this was the secret 
 certain source of wealth in which I 
 was to have sunk my money (if I had 
 been the fool you took me for) ; this 
 was your inexhaustible mine of gold, 
 your El Dorado, eh ?" 
 
 " Yes," cried the old man, turning 
 upon him with gleaming eyes, " it was. 
 It is. It will be, till I die." 
 
 " That I should have been blinded," 
 said Quilp looking contemptuously at 
 him, " by a mere shallow gambler ! " 
 
 "I am no gambler," cried the old- 
 man fiercely. " I call Heaven to nit- 
 ness that I never played for gain of 
 mine, or love of play ; that at every 
 piece I staked, I whispered to myself
 
 46 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 that orphan s name and called on 
 licaven to bless the venture ; which 
 it never did. Whom did it prosper ? 
 Who were those with whom I played ? 
 Men who lived by plunder, profligacy, 
 and riot; squandering their gold in 
 doing ill, and propagating vice and 
 evil. My winnings would have been 
 from them, my winnings would have 
 been bestowed to the last farthing 
 on a young sinless child whose life 
 they would have sweetened and made 
 happy. What would they have con- 
 tracted ? The means of corruption, 
 wretchedness, and misery. Who would 
 not have hoped in such a cause tell 
 me that ! Who would not have hoped 
 as I did ? " 
 
 " When did you first begin this mad 
 career ? " asked Quilp, his taunting 
 inclination subdued, for a moment, by 
 the old man's grief and wildness. 
 
 " When did I first begin 2 " he re- 
 joined, passing his hand across his 
 brow. "When was it, that I first 
 began ? When should it be, but when 
 I began to think how little I had 
 saved, how long a time it took to save 
 at all, how short a time I might have 
 at my age to live, and how she would 
 be left to the rough mercies of the 
 world, with barely enough to keep her 
 from the sorrows that wait on poverty ; 
 then it was, that I began to think 
 about it." 
 
 " After you first came to me to get 
 your precious grandson packed off to 
 sea \ " said Quilp. 
 
 "Shortly after that," replied the 
 old man. " I thought of it a long 
 time, and had it in my sleep for 
 months. Then I began. I found no 
 pleasure in it, I expected none. What 
 has it ever brought to me but anxious 
 days and sleepless nights ; but loss of 
 health and peace of mind, and gain of 
 feebleness and sorrow ! " 
 
 " You lost what money you had laid 
 by, first, and then came to me. While 
 I thought you were making your for- 
 tune (as you said you were) you were 
 making yourself a beggar, eh ? Dear 
 me ! And so it comes to pass that 
 I hold every security you could scrape 
 together, and a bill of sale upon the 
 
 upon the stock and property," said 
 Quilp standing up and looking about 
 him, as if to assure himself thaF none 
 of it had been taken away. " But did 
 you never win 1 " 
 
 " Never ! " groaned the old man. 
 " Never won back my loss ! " 
 
 " I thought," sneered the dwarf, 
 " that if a man played long enough he 
 was sure to win at last, or, at the worst, 
 not to come off a loser." 
 
 " And so he is," cried the old man, 
 suddenly rousing himself from his 
 state of despondency, and lashed into 
 the most violent excitement, " so he 
 is ; I have felt that from the first, I 
 have always known it, I 've seen it, I 
 never felt it half so strongly as I feel 
 it now. Quilp, I have dreamed, three 
 nights, of winning the same large sum, 
 I never could dream that dream 
 before, though I have often tried. Do 
 not desert me, now I have this chance. 
 I have no resource but you, give me 
 some help, let me try this one last 
 hope." 
 
 The dwarf shrugged his shoulders 
 and shook his head. 
 
 "See Quilp, good tender-hearted 
 Quilp," said the old man, drawing 
 some scraps of paper from his pocket 
 with a trembling hand, and clasping 
 the dwarf's arm, "only see here. 
 Look at these figures, the result of 
 long calculation, and painful and hard 
 experience. I must win. I only want 
 a little help once more, a few pounds, 
 but two score pounds, dear Quilp." 
 
 " The last advance was seventy," 
 said the dwarf ; " and it went in one 
 night." 
 
 " I know it did," answered the old 
 man, "but that was the very worst 
 fortune of all, and the time had not 
 come then. Quilp, consider, consi- 
 der," the old man cried, trembling so 
 much the while, that the papers in his 
 hand fluttered as if they were shaken 
 by the wind, " that orphan child ! If 
 I were alone, I could die with glad- 
 ness perhaps even anticipate that 
 doom which is dealt out so unequally : 
 coming, as it does, on the proud and 
 happy in their strength, and shunning 
 the needy and afflicted, and all who
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 47 
 
 court it in their despair but what I 
 have done, has been for her. Help 
 me for her sake I implore you not 
 for mine, for hers ! " 
 
 "I'm sorry I've got an appoint- 
 ment in the city," said Quilp, looking 
 at his watch with perfect self-posses- 
 sion, " or I should have been very 
 glad to have spent half an hour with 
 you while you composed yourself 
 very glad." 
 
 " Nay, Quilp, good Quilp," gasped 
 the old man, catching at his skirts 
 " you and I have talked together, more 
 than once, of her poor mother's story. 
 The fear of her coming to poverty has 
 perhaps been bred in me by that. Do 
 not be hard upon me, but take that 
 into account. You are a great gainer 
 by me. Oh spare me the money for 
 this one hist hope ! " 
 
 " I couldn't do it really," said Quilp 
 with unusual politeness, " though I 
 tell you what and this is a circum- 
 stance worth bearing in mind as show- 
 ing how the sharpest among us may be 
 taken in sometimes I was so deceived 
 by the penurious way in which you 
 lived, alone with Nelly " 
 
 " All done to save money for tempt- 
 ing fortune, and to make her triumph 
 greater," cried the old man. 
 
 " Yes yes, I understand that now," 
 said Quilp ; " but I was going to say, 
 I was so deceived by that, your miserly 
 way, the reputation you had among 
 those who knew you of being rich, 
 and your repeated assurances that you 
 
 would make of my advances treble 
 and quadruple the interest you paid 
 me, that I 'd have advanced you, even 
 now, what you want, on your simple 
 note of hand, if I hadn't unexpectedly 
 become acquainted with your secret 
 way of life." 
 
 " Who is it," retorted the old man 
 desperately, " that notwithstanding, all 
 my caution, told you. Come. Let me 
 know the name the person." 
 
 The crafty dwarf, bethinking him- 
 self that his giving up the child would 
 lead to the disclosure of the artifice 
 he had employed, which, as nothing 
 was to be gained by it, it was well 
 to conceal, stopped short in his 
 answer and said, " Now, who do you 
 think!" 
 
 " It was Kit, it must have been the 
 boy ; he played the spy, and you tam- 
 pered with him ? " said the old man. 
 
 " How came you to think of lu'm ? " 
 said the dwarf in a tone of great com- 
 miseration. " Yes it was Kit. Poor 
 Kit!" 
 
 So saying, he nodded in a friendly 
 manner, and took his leave : stopping 
 when he had passed the outer door a 
 little distance, and grinning with extra- 
 ordinary delight. 
 
 " Poor Kit ! " muttered Quilp. I 
 think it was Kit who said I was an 
 uglier dwarf than could be seen any- 
 where for a penny, wasn'* it. Ha ha 
 ha ! Poor Kit ! " 
 
 And with that he went his way, still 
 chuckling as he went.
 
 48 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 DANIEL QUILP neither entered nor 
 left the old man's house, unobserved. 
 In the shadow of an archway nearly 
 opposite, leading to one of the many 
 passages which diverged from the 
 main street, there lingered one, who, 
 having taken up his position when the 
 twilight first came on, still maintained 
 . it with undiminished patience, and 
 leaning against the wall with the man- 
 ner of a person who had a long time to 
 wait, and being well used to it was 
 quite resigned, scarcely changed his 
 attitude for the hour together. 
 
 This patient lounger attracted little 
 attention from any of those who 
 passed, and bestowed as little upon 
 them. His eyes were constantly di- 
 rected towards one object ; the window 
 at which the child was accustomed to 
 sit. If he withdrew them for a mo- 
 ment, it was only to glance at a clock 
 in some neighbouring shop, and then 
 to strain his sight once more in the 
 old quarter with increased earnestness 
 and attention. 
 
 It has been remarked that this per- 
 sonage evinced no weariness in his place 
 of concealment ; nor did he, long as his 
 waiting was. But as the time went 
 on, he manifested some anxiety and 
 surprise, glancing at the clock more 
 frequently and at the window less 
 hopefully than before. At length, the 
 clock was hidden from his sight by 
 some envious shutters, then the church 
 steeples proclaimed eleven at night, 
 then the quarter past, and then the 
 conviction seemed to obtrude itself 
 on his mind that it was of no use 
 tarrying there any longer. 
 
 That the conviction was an unwel- 
 come one, and that he was by no means 
 willing to yield to it, was apparent 
 from his reluctance to quit the spot ; 
 from the tardy f>eps with which he 
 .often left it, still looking over his 
 shoulder at the same window ; and 
 from the precipitation with which ho 
 as often returned, when a fancied 
 noise or the changing and imperfect 
 
 light induced him to suppose it had 
 been softly raised. At length, he gave 
 the matter up, as hopeless for that 
 night, and suddenly breaking into a 
 run as though to force himself away, 
 scampered oft* at his utmost speed, 
 nor once ventured to look behind him 
 lest he should be tempted back again. 
 Without relaxing his pace, or stop- 
 ping to take breath, this mysterious 
 individual dashed on through a great 
 many alleys and narrow ways until he 
 at length arrived in a square paved 
 court, when he subsided into a walk, 
 and making for a small house from 
 the window of which a light was shin- 
 ing, lifted the latch of the door and 
 
 ,ssed in. 
 
 " Bless us ! " cried a woman turning 
 sharply round, " who's that ? oh ! It's 
 you, Kit ! " 
 
 " Yes mother, it's me." 
 
 " Why, how tired you look, my 
 dear ! " 
 
 " Old master an't gone out to-night," 
 said Kit ; " and so she hasn't been at 
 the window at all." With which words, 
 he sat down by the fire and looked 
 very mournful and discontented. 
 
 The room in which Kit sat himself 
 down, in this condition, was an ex- 
 tremely poor and homely place, but 
 with that air of comfort about it, 
 nevertheless, which or the spot must 
 be a wretched one indeed cleanliness 
 and order can always impart in some 
 degree. Late as the Dutch clock 
 showed it to be, the poor woman was 
 still hard at work at an ironing-table ; 
 a young child lay sleeping in a cradle 
 near the fire ; and another, a sturdy 
 boy of two or three years old, very 
 wide awake, with a very tight night- 
 cap on his head, and a night-gown 
 very much too small for him on his 
 body, was sitting bolt upright in a 
 clothes-basket, staring over the rim 
 with his great round eyes, and looking 
 as if he had thoroughly made up his 
 mind never to go to sleep any more ; 
 which, as he had already declined to
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP 
 
 49 
 
 take his natural rest and had been 
 brought out of bed in consequence, 
 opened a cheerful prospect for bis re- 
 lations and friends. It was rather a 
 queer-looking family : Kit, his mother, 
 and the children, being all strongly 
 alike. 
 
 Kit was disposed to be out of tem- 
 per, as the best of us are too often 
 but he looked at the youngest child 
 who was sleeping soundly, and from 
 him to his other brother in the clothes- 
 basket, and from him to. their mother, 
 who had been at work without com- 
 plaint since morning, and thought it 
 would be a better and kinder thing to 
 be good-humoured. So he rocked the 
 cradle with his foot ; made a face at 
 the rebel in the clothes-basket, which 
 put him in high good-humour directly ; 
 and stoutly determined to be talkative 
 and make himself agreeable. 
 
 " Ah mother ! " said Kit, taking out 
 his clasp knife and falling upon a great 
 piece of bread and meat which she had 
 had ready for him, hours before, 
 " what a one you are ! There an't 
 many such as you, I know." 
 
 "I hope there are many a great 
 deal better, Kit," said Mrs. Nubbles ; 
 " and that there are, or ought to be, 
 accordin' to what the parson at chapel 
 says." 
 
 " Much he knows about it," returned 
 Kit contemptuously. " Wait till he's 
 a widder and works like you do, and 
 gets as little, and does as much, and 
 keeps his spirits up the same, and then 
 I'll ask him what's o'clock and trust 
 him for being right to half a second." 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Nubbles, evading 
 the point, " your beer's down there by 
 the fender, Kit." 
 
 " I see," replied her son, taking up 
 the porter pot, "my love to you 
 mother. And the parson's health too 
 if you like. I don't bear him any 
 malice, not I ! " 
 
 "Did you tell me, just now, that 
 your master hadn't gone out to-night 3 " 
 inquired Mrs. Nubbles. 
 
 " Yes," said Kit, " worse luck." 
 
 " You should say better luck, I 
 think," returned his mother, " because 
 Miss Nelly won't have been left alone." 
 
 No. 67. 
 
 Ah ! " said Kit, I forgot that I 
 uaid worse luck, because I've been 
 watching ever since eight o'clock, and 
 seen nothing of her." 
 
 " I wonder what she'd say," cried 
 his mother, stopping in her work and 
 looking round, " if she knew that every 
 night, when she poor thing is sitting 
 alone at that window, you are watch- 
 ing in the open street for fear any 
 harm should come to her, and that you 
 never leave the place or come home to 
 your bed though you're erer so tired, 
 till such tune as you think she's safe 
 in hers." 
 
 " Never mind what she 'd say," 
 replied Kit, with something like a 
 blush on his uncouth face ; " she '11 
 never know nothing, and consequently, 
 she '11 never say nothing." 
 
 Mrs. Nubbles ironed away in silence 
 for a minute or two, and coming to the 
 fireplace for another iron, glanced 
 stealthily at Kit while she rubbed it on 
 a board and dusted it with a duster, 
 but said nothing until she had returned 
 to her table again : when, holding the 
 iron at an alarmingly short distance 
 from her cheek, to test its temperature, 
 and looking round with a smile, she 
 observed : 
 
 " I know what some people would 
 say, Kit " 
 
 " Nonsense," interposed Kit with a 
 perfect apprehension of what was to 
 follow. 
 
 " No, but they would indeed. Some 
 people would say that you 'd fallen in 
 love with her, I know they would." 
 
 To this, Kit only replied by bash- 
 fully bidding his mother " get out," 
 and forming sundry strange figures 
 with his legs and arms, accompanied 
 by sympathetic contortions of his face. 
 Not deriving from these means the 
 relief which he sought, he bit off an 
 immense mouthful from the bread and 
 meat, and took a quick drink of the 
 porter; by which artificial aids he 
 choked himself and effected a diver- 
 sion of the subject. 
 
 " Speaking seriously though, Kit," 
 said his mother taking up the theme 
 afresh, after a time, " for of course I 
 was only in joke just now, it 's very
 
 50 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 good and thoughtful, and like you, to 
 do this, and never let anybody know it, 
 though some day I hope she may come 
 to know it, for I 'm sure she would be 
 very grateful to you and feel it very 
 much. It 's a cruel thing to keep the 
 dear child shut up there. I don't 
 wonder that the old gentleman wants 
 to keep it from you." 
 
 " He don't think it 's cruel, bless 
 you," said Kit, " and don't mean it to 
 be so, or he wouldn't do it I do con- 
 sider, mother, that he wouldn't do it 
 for all the gold and silver in the world. 
 No, no, that he wouldn't. I know him 
 better than that." 
 
 " Then what does he do it for, and 
 why does he keep it so close from you \ " 
 said Mrs. Nubbles. 
 
 " That I don't know," returned her 
 son. " If he hadn't tried to keep it so 
 close though, I should never have 
 found it out, for it was his getting me 
 away at night and sending me off so 
 much earlier than he used to, that 
 first made me curious to know what 
 was going on. Hark ! what 's that ? " 
 " It 's only somebody outside." 
 " It 's somebody crossing over here," 
 said Kit, standing up to listen, "and 
 coming very fast too. He can't have 
 gone out after I left, and the house 
 caught fire, mother ! " 
 
 The boy stood, for a moment, really 
 bereft, by the apprehension he had 
 conjured up, of the power to move. 
 The footsteps drew nearer, the door 
 was opened with a hasty hand, and the 
 child herself, pale and breathless, and 
 hastily wrapped in a few disordered 
 garments, hurried into the room. 
 
 " Miss Nelly ! What is the mat- 
 ter ! " cried mother and son together. 
 " I must not stay a moment," she 
 returned, " grandfather has been taken 
 very 31 1. I found him in a fit upon the 
 floor " 
 
 "I'll run fora doctor" said Kit, 
 seizing his brimless hat. " I '11 be 
 there directly, I '11 " 
 
 " No, no," cried Nell, " there is one 
 
 there, you 're not wanted, you you 
 
 must never come near us any more ! " 
 
 What ! " roared Kit. 
 
 u Never again," said the child. 
 
 " Don't ask me why, for I don't know. 
 Pray don't ask me why, pray don't be 
 sorry, pray don't be vexed with me ! 
 I have nothing to do with it indeed-!" 
 Kit looked at her with his eyes 
 stretched wide ; and opened and shut 
 his mouth a great many times ; but 
 couldn't get out one word. 
 
 " He complains and rares of you," 
 said the child, " I don't know what 
 you have done, but I hope it 's nothing 
 very bad." 
 
 " 7 done ! " roared Kit. 
 " He cries that you 're the cause of 
 all his misery," returned the child with 
 tearful eyes ; " he screamed and called 
 for you ; they say you must not come 
 near him or he will die. You must 
 not return to us any more. I came to 
 tell you. I thought it would be better 
 that I should come than somebody 
 quite strange. Oh, Kit, what have 
 you done ? you, in whom I trusted so 
 much, and who were almost the only 
 friend I had ! " 
 
 The unfortunate Kit looked at his 
 young mistress harder and harder, 
 and with eyes growing wider and 
 wider, but was perfectly motionless 
 and silent. 
 
 " I have brought his money for the 
 week," said the child, looking to the 
 woman and laying it on the table 
 " and and a little more, for he was 
 always good and kind to me. I hope 
 he will be sorry and do well some- 
 where else and not take this to heart 
 too much. It grieves me very much 
 to part with him like this, but there is 
 no help. It must be done. Good 
 night ! " 
 
 With the tears streaming down her 
 face, and her slight figure trembling 
 with the agitation of the scene she had 
 left, the shock she had received, the 
 errand she had just discharged, and a 
 thousand painful and affectionate feel- 
 ings, the child hastened to the door, 
 and disappeared as rapidly as she had 
 come. 
 
 The poor woman, who had no cause 
 to doubt her son, but every n ason for 
 relying on his honesty and truth, was 
 staggered, notwithstanding, by his not 
 having advanced one word in his
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 51 
 
 defence. Visions of gallantry, knavery, 
 robbery ; and of the nightly absences 
 from home lor which he had accounted 
 so strangely, having been occasioned by 
 some unlawful pursuit ; flocked into 
 her brain and rendered her afraid to 
 question him. She rocked herself 
 upon a chair, wringing her hands and 
 weeping bitterly, but Kit made no 
 
 attempt to comfort her and remained 
 quite bewildered. The baby in the 
 cradle woke up and cried ; the boy hi 
 the clothes-basket fell over on his back 
 with the basket upon him, and was seen 
 no more ; the mother wept louder yet 
 and rocked faster ; but Kit, insensible 
 to all the din and tumult, remained in 
 a state of utter stupefaction. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 QUIET and solitude were destined to 
 hold uninterrupted rule no longer, 
 beneath the roof that sheltered the 
 child. Next morning, the old man was 
 in a raging fever accompanied with 
 delirium ; and sinking under the influ- 
 ence of this disorder he lay for many 
 weeks in imminent peril of his life. 
 There was watching enough, now, but 
 it was the watching of strangers who 
 made a greedy trade of it, and who, in 
 the intervals of their attendance upon 
 the sick man huddled together with a 
 ghastly good-fellowship, and ate and 
 drunk and made merry ; for disease 
 and death were their ordinary house- 
 hold gods. 
 
 Yet, in all the hurry and crowding 
 of such a time, the child was more 
 alone than she had ever been before ; 
 alone in spirit, alone in her devotion 
 to him who was wasting away upon 
 his burning bed ; alone in her unfeigned 
 sorrow, and her unpurchased sym- 
 pathy. Day after day, and night after 
 night, found her still by the pillow of 
 the unconscious sufferer, still antici- 
 pating his every want, still listening 
 to those repetitions of her name and 
 those anxieties and cares for her, which 
 were ever uppermost among his 
 feverish wanderings. 
 
 The house was no longer theirs. 
 Even the sick chamber seemed to be 
 retained, on the uncertain tenure of 
 Mr. Quilp's favour. The old man's 
 illness had not lasted many days when 
 he took formal possession of the pre- 
 
 mises and all upon them, in virtue of 
 certain legal powers to that effect, 
 which few understood and none pre- 
 sumed to call in question. This 
 important step secured, with the as- 
 sistance of a man of law whom he 
 brought with him for the purpose, the 
 dwarf proceeded to establish himself 
 and his coadjutor in the house, as an 
 assertion of his claim against all 
 comers ; and then set about making 
 his quarters comfortable, after his own 
 fashion. 
 
 To this end, Mr. Quilp encamped in 
 the back parlour, having first put an 
 effectual stop to any further business 
 by shutting up the shop. Having 
 looked out, from among the old furni- 
 ture, the handsomest and most commo- 
 dious chair he could possibly find 
 (which he reserved for his own use) 
 and an especially hideous and uncom- 
 fortable one (which he considerately 
 appropriated to the accommodation of 
 his friend) he caused them to be car- 
 ried into this room, and took up his 
 position in great state. The apart- 
 ment was very far removed from the 
 old man's chamber, but Mr. Quilp 
 deemed it prudent, as a precaution 
 against infection from fever, and a 
 means of wholesome fumigation, not 
 only to smoke, himself, without cessa- 
 tion, but to insist upon it that his legal 
 friend did the like. Moreover, he 
 sent an express to the wharf for the 
 tumbling boy, who arriving with all 
 despatch was enjoined, to sit himself 
 
 2
 
 52 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 down in another chair just inside the 
 door, continually to smoke a great 
 pipe which the dwarf had provided for 
 the purpose, and to take it from his 
 lips under any pretence whatever, 
 were it only for one minute at a time, 
 if he dared. These arrangements 
 completed, Mr. Quilp looked round 
 him with chuckling satisfaction, and 
 remarked that he called that com- 
 fort. 
 
 The legal gentleman, whose melo- 
 dious name was Brass, might have 
 called it comfort also but for two 
 drawbacks ; one was, that he could by 
 no exertion sit easy in his chair, the 
 seat of which was very hard, angular, 
 slippery, and sloping ; the other, that 
 tobacco-smoke always caused him 
 great internal discomposure and an- 
 noyance. But as he was quite a crea- 
 ture of Mr. Quilp's and had a thou- 
 sand reasons for conciliating his good 
 opinion, he tried to smile, and nodded 
 his acquiescence with the best grace 
 he could assume. 
 
 This Brass was an attorney of no 
 very good repute, from Bevis Marks in 
 the city of London ; he was a tall, 
 meagre man, with a nose like a wen, a 
 protruding forehead, retreating eyes, 
 and hair of a deep red. He wore a 
 long black surtout reaching nearly to 
 his ancles, short black trousers, high 
 shoes, and cotton stockings of a blue- 
 ish grey. He had a cringing manner, 
 but a very harsh voice ; and his bland- 
 est smiles were so extremely forbid- 
 ding, that to have had his company 
 under the least repulsive circum- 
 stances, one would have wished him 
 to be out of temper that he might only 
 scowl. 
 
 Quilp looked at his legal adviser, 
 and seeing that he was winking very 
 much in the anguish of his pipe, that 
 he sometimes shuddered when he hap- 
 pened to inhale its full flavour, and 
 that he constantly fanned the smoke 
 from him, was quite overjoyed and 
 rubbed his hands with glee. 
 
 " Smoke away, you dog," said Quilp 
 turning to the boy ; " fill your pipe 
 again and smoke it fast, down to the 
 last whiff, or I '11 put the sealing- waxed 
 
 end of it in the fire and rub it red hot 
 upon your tongue." 
 
 Luckily the boy was case-hardened, 
 and would have smoked a small lime- 
 kiln if anybody had treated him with 
 it. Wherefore, he only muttered a 
 brief defiance of his master, and did 
 as he was ordered. 
 
 tt Is it good, Brass, is it nice, is it 
 fragrant, do you feel like the Graud 
 Turk ? " said Quilp. 
 
 Mr. Brass thought that if he did, 
 the Grand Turk's feelings were by no 
 means to be envied, but he said it was 
 famous, and he had no doubt he felt 
 very like that Potentate. 
 
 " This is the way to keep off fever," 
 said Quilp, " this is the way to keep 
 off every calamity of life ! We '11 never 
 leave off, all the time we stop here 
 smoke away, you dog, or you shall 
 swallow the pipe ! " 
 
 " Shall we stop here long, Mr. 
 Quilp ? " inquired his legal friend, 
 when the dwarf had given his boy this 
 gentle admonition. 
 
 " We must stop, I suppose, till the 
 old gentleman up stairs is dead," re- 
 turned Quilp. 
 
 He he he ! " laughed Mr. Brass, 
 " oh ! very good ! " 
 
 " Smoke away ! " cried Quilp. 
 "Never stop! you can talk as you 
 smoke. Don't lose time." 
 
 " He he he ! " cried Brass faintly, 
 as he again applied himself to the 
 odious pipe. " But if he should get 
 better, Mr. Quilp ? " 
 
 " Then we shall stop till he does, 
 and no longer," returned the dwarf. 
 
 " How kind it is of you, sir, to wait 
 'till then ! " said Brass. " Some 
 people, sir, would have sold or removed 
 the goods oh dear, the very instant 
 the law allowed 'em. Some people, 
 sir, would have been all flintiness 
 and granite. Some people, sir, would 
 have " 
 
 " Some people would have spared 
 themselves the jabbering of such a 
 parrot as you," interposed the dwarf. 
 
 " He he he ! " cried Brass. You 
 have awcA spirits ! " 
 
 The smoking centinel at the door 
 interposed in this place, and with-
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 53 
 
 out talcing his pipe from his lips, 
 growled, 
 
 " Here 's the gal a comin' down." 
 
 " The what, you dog ? " said Quilp. 
 
 " The gal," returned the boy. " Are 
 you deaf ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " said Quilp, drawing in his 
 breath with great relish as if he were 
 taking soup, " you and I will have 
 such a settling presently ; there 's such 
 a scratching and bruising in store for 
 you, ray dear young friend ! Aha ! 
 Nelly ! How is he now, my duck of 
 diamonds ? " 
 
 " He 's very bad," replied the weep- 
 ing child. 
 
 What a pretty little Nell ! " cried 
 Quilp. 
 
 " Oh beautiful, sir, beautiful indeed," 
 said Brass. " Quite charming ! " 
 
 " Has she come to sit upon Quilp's 
 knee," said the dwarf, in what he meant 
 to be a soothing tone, " or is she going 
 to bed in her own little room inside 
 here which is poor Nelly going to 
 do?" 
 
 " What a remarkable pleasant way 
 he has with children !" muttered Brass, 
 as if in confidence between himself and 
 the ceiling ; " upon my word it 's quite 
 a treat to hear him." 
 
 " I 'm not going to stay at all," fal- 
 tered Nell. " I want a few things out of 
 that room, and then I I won't come 
 down here any more." 
 
 " And a very nice little room it is !" 
 said the dwarf looking into it as the 
 child entered. " Quite a bower ! You 're 
 sure you 're not going to use it; you're 
 sure you're not coming back, Nelly ?" 
 
 " No," replied the child, hurrying 
 away, with the few articles of dress 
 she had come to remove ; " never 
 again ! Never again." 
 
 " She 's very sensitive," said Quilp 
 looking after her. " Very sensitive ; 
 that 's a pity. The bedstead is much 
 about my size. I think I shall make 
 it my little room." 
 
 Mr. Brass encouraging this idea, as 
 he would have encouraged any other 
 emanating from the same source, the 
 dwarf walked in to try the effect. This 
 he did, by throwing himself on his 
 back upon the bed with his pipe in his 
 
 mouth, and then kicking up his legs and 
 smoking violently. Mr. Brass ap- 
 plauding this picture very much, and 
 the bed being soft and comfortable, 
 Mr. Quilp determined to use it, both 
 as a sleeping place by night and as a 
 kind of Divan by day ; and in order 
 that it might be converted to the latter 
 purpose at once, remained where he 
 was, and smoked his pipe out. The 
 legal gentleman being by this time 
 rather giddy and perplexed in his 
 ideas (for this was one of the opera- 
 tions of the tobacco on his nervous 
 system), took the opportunity of slink- 
 ing away into the open air, where, in 
 course of time, he recovered sufficiently 
 to return with a countenance of tojer- 
 able composure. He was soon led on 
 by the malicious dwarf to smoke him- 
 self into a relapse, and in that state 
 stumbled upon a settee where he slept 
 till morning. 
 
 Such were Mr. Quilp's first pro- 
 ceedings on entering upon his new 
 property. He was, for some days, re- 
 strained by business from performing 
 any particular pranks, as his time was 
 pretty well occupied between taking, 
 with the assistance of Mr. Brass, a 
 minute inventory of all the goods in 
 the place, and going abroad upon his 
 other concerns which happily engaged 
 him for several hours at a time. His 
 avarice and caution being, now, tho- 
 roughly awakened, however, he was 
 never absent from the house one night ; 
 and his eagerness for some termina- 
 tion, good or bad, to the old man's dis- 
 order, increasing rapidly, as the time 
 passed b^, soon began to vent itself in 
 open murmurs and exclamations of 
 impatience. 
 
 Nell shrunk timidly from all the 
 dwarf's advances towards conversa- 
 tion, and fled from the very sound of 
 his voice ; nor were the lawyer's smiles 
 less terrible to her than Quilp's gri- 
 maces. She lived in such continual 
 dread and apprehension of meeting one 
 or other of them on the stairs or in 
 the passages if she stirred from her 
 grandfather's chamber, that she sel- 
 dom left it, for a moment, until late at 
 night, when the silence encouraged her
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 to venture forth and breathe the purer 
 air of some empty room. 
 
 One night, she had stolen to her 
 usual window, and was sitting there 
 very sorrowfully for the old man had 
 been worse that day when she thought 
 she heard her name pronounced by a 
 voice in the street. Looking down, she 
 recognised Kit, whose endeavours to 
 attract her attention had roused her 
 from her sad reflections. 
 
 " Miss Nell ! " said the boy in a low 
 voice. 
 
 "Yes," replied the child, doubtful 
 whether she ought to hold any com- 
 munication with the supposed culprit, 
 but inclining to her old iavourite still ; 
 " what do you want ? " 
 
 " I have wanted to say a word to 
 you, for a long time," the boy replied, 
 " but the people below have driven 
 me away and wouldn't let me see you. 
 You doii't believe I hope you don't 
 really believe that I deserve to be 
 cast off as I have been ; do you, miss \ " 
 
 "I must believe it," returned the 
 child. " Or why would grandfather 
 have been so angry with you 1 " 
 
 " I don't know," replied Kit. " I 'm 
 sure I 've never deserved it from him, 
 no, nor from you. I can say that, 
 with a true and honest heart, any way. 
 And then to be driven from the door, 
 when I only came to ask how old 
 master was ! " 
 
 " They never told me that," said 
 the child. " I didn't know it indeed. 
 I wouldn't have had them do it for the 
 world." 
 
 " Thank'ee, miss," returned Kit, 
 " it 's comfortable to hear yor say that. 
 I said I never would believe that it 
 was your doing." 
 
 " That was right ! " said the child 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Miss Nell," cried the boy coming 
 under the window, and speaking in a 
 lower tone, " there are new masters 
 down stairs. It 's a change for you." 
 
 " It is indeed," replied the child. 
 
 " And so it will be for him when he 
 gets better," said the boy pointing 
 towards the sick room. 
 
 " If he ever does," added the 
 child, unable to restrain her tears. 
 
 "Oh, he'll do that, he'll do that," 
 said Kit, " I 'm sure he will. You 
 mustn't be east down, Miss Nell. Now 
 don't be, pray !" 
 
 These words of encouragement and 
 consolation were few and roughly 
 said, but they affected the child and 
 made her, for the moment, weep the 
 more. 
 
 " He '11 be sure to get better now," 
 said the boy anxiously, " if you don't 
 give way to low spirits and turn ill 
 yourself, which would make him worse 
 and throw him back, just as he was 
 recovering. When he does, say a 
 good word say a kind word for me, 
 Miss Nell !" 
 
 " They tell me I must not even 
 mention your name to him for a long, 
 long time," rejoined the child, " I dare 
 not ; and even if I might, what good 
 would a kind word do you, Kit ? We 
 shall be very poor. We shall scarcely 
 have bread to eat." 
 
 " It 's not that I may be taken 
 back," said the boy, " that I ask the 
 favour of you. It isn't for the sake of 
 food and wages that I've been waiting 
 about, so long, in hopes to see you. 
 Don't think that I 'd come in a time of 
 trouble to talk of such things as them." 
 
 The child looked gratefully and 
 kindly at him, but waited that he 
 might speak again. 
 
 " No, it 's not that," said Kit hesi- 
 tating, "it's something very different 
 from that. I haven't got much sense 
 I know, but if he could be brought to 
 believe that I 'd been a faithful ser- 
 vant to him, doing the best I could, 
 and never meaning harm, perhaps he 
 mightn't " 
 
 Here Kit faltered so long that the 
 child entreated him to speak out, and 
 quickly, for it was very late, and time 
 to shut the window. 
 
 '' Perhaps he mightn't think it over 
 venturesome of me to say well then, 
 to say this," cried Kit with sudden 
 boldness. " This home is gone from 
 you and him. Mother and I have got 
 a poor one, but that 's better than this 
 with all these people here ; and why 
 not come there, till he 's had time to 
 look about, and find a better ! "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 55 
 
 The child did not speak. Kit, in 
 the relief of having made his proposi- 
 tion, found his tongue loosened, and 
 spoke out in its favour with his 
 utmost eloquence. 
 
 " You think," said the boy, " that 
 it 's very small and inconvenient. So 
 it is, but it's very clean. Perhaps 
 you think it would be noisy, but 
 there 's not a quieter court than ours 
 in all the town. Don't be afraid of 
 the children ; the baby hardly ever 
 cries, and the other one is very good 
 besides, I 'd mind 'em. They wouldn't 
 vex you much, I 'm sure. Do try, Miss 
 Nell, do try. The little front room 
 up stairs is very pleasant. You can 
 see a piece of the church-clock, through 
 the chimneys, and almost tell the time ; 
 mother says it would be just the thing 
 for you, and so it would, and you'd 
 have her to wait upon you both, and 
 me to run of errands. We don't mean 
 money, bless you ; you're not to think 
 of that ! Will you try him, Miss Nell ? 
 Only say you '11 try him. Do try to 
 make old master come, and ask him 
 first what I have done will you only 
 promise that, Miss Nell ? " 
 
 Before the child could reply to this 
 earnest solicitation, the street-door 
 opened, and Mr. Brass thrusting out 
 his night-capped head called in a surly 
 voice, " Who 's there ! " Kit imme- 1 
 diately glided away, and Nell, closing the 
 window softly, drew back into the room. 
 
 Before Mr. Brass had repeated his 
 inquiry many times, Mr. Quilp, also 
 embellished with a night-cap, emerged 
 from the same door and looked care- 
 fully up and down the street, and up 
 
 at all the windows of the house, from 
 the opposite side. Finding that there 
 was nobody in sight, he presently 
 returned into the house with his legal 
 friend, protesting (as the child heard 
 from the staircase), that there was a 
 league and plot against him ; that he 
 was in danger of being robbed and 
 plundered by a band of conspirators 
 who prowled about the house at all 
 seasons ; and that he would delay no 
 longer but take immediate steps for 
 disposing of the property and return- 
 ing to his own peaceful roof. Having 
 growled forth these, and a great many 
 other threats of the same nature, he 
 coiled himself once more in the child's 
 little bed, and Nell crept softly up the 
 stairs. 
 
 It was natural enough that her 
 short and unfinished dialogue with 
 Kit should leave a strong impression 
 on her mind, and influence her 
 dreams that night and her recollec- 
 tions for a long, long time. Sur- 
 rounded by unfeeling creditors, and 
 mercenary attendants upon the sick, 
 and meeting in the height of her 
 anxiety and sorrow with little regard 
 or sympathy even from the women 
 about her, it is not surprising that 
 the affectionate heart of the child 
 should have been touched to the 
 quick by one kind and generous spirit, 
 however uncouth the temple in which 
 it dwelt. Thank Heaven that the 
 temples of such spirits are not made 
 with hands, and that they may be 
 even more worthily hung with poor 
 patch-work than with purple and fine 
 linen !
 
 56 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 AT length, the crisis of the old 
 man's disorder was past, and he began 
 to mend. By very slow and feeble 
 degrees his consciousness came back ; 
 but the mind was weakened and its 
 functions were impaired. He was 
 patient, and quiet ; often sat brood- 
 ing, but not despondently, for a long 
 space ; was easily amused, even by a 
 sun-beam on the wall or ceiling ; 
 made no complaint that the days 
 were long, or the nights tedious ; and 
 appeared indeed to have lost all count 
 of time, and every sense of care or 
 weariness. He would sit, for hours 
 together, with Nell's small hand in 
 his, playing with the fingers and 
 stopping sometimes to smooth her 
 hair or kiss her brow ; and, when he 
 saw that tears were glistening in her 
 eyes, would look, amazed, about him 
 for the cause, and forget his wonder 
 even while he looked. 
 
 The child and he rode out : the old 
 man propped up with pillows, and the 
 child beside him. They were hand in 
 hand as usual. The noise and motion 
 in the streets fatigued his brain at 
 first, but he was not surprised, or 
 curious, or pleased, or irritated. He 
 was asked if he remembered this, or 
 that O yes,' he said, ' quite well 
 why not ? ' Sometimes he turned his 
 head, and looked, with earnest gaze 
 and outstretched neck, after some 
 stranger in the crowd, until he dis- 
 appeared from sight ; but, to the ques- 
 tion why he did this, he answered not 
 a word. 
 
 He was sitting in his easy chair 
 one day, and Nell upon a stool beside 
 him, when a man outside the door 
 
 inquired if he might enter, 
 he said without emotion, 
 
 Yes,' 
 it was 
 
 Quilp, he knew. Quilp was master 
 there. Of course he might come in.' 
 And so he did. 
 
 " Yes," said the old man feebly, 
 " yes." 
 
 " I don't want to hurry you, you 
 know, neighbour," said the dwarf 
 raising his voice, for the old man's 
 senses were duller than they had 
 been ; " but, as soon as you can 
 arrange your future proceedings, the 
 better." 
 
 " Surely," said the old man. The 
 better for all parties." 
 
 " You see," pursued Quilp after a 
 short pause, " the goods being once 
 removed, this house would be uncom- 
 fortable ; uninhabitable in fact." 
 
 " You say true," returned the old 
 man. "Poor Nell too, what would 
 she do ? " 
 
 " Exactly," bawled the dwarf nod- 
 
 ding his head ; " that 's very well 
 observed. Then will you consider 
 about it, neighbour ? " 
 
 " I will, certainly," replied the old 
 man. " We shall not stop here." 
 
 " So I supposed," said the dwarf. 
 " I have sold the things. They have 
 not yielded quite as much as they 
 might have done, but pretty well 
 pretty well. To day 's Tuesday. 
 When shall they be moved ? There 's 
 no hurry shall we say this after- 
 noon ? " 
 
 " Say Friday morning," returned 
 the old man. 
 
 " Very good," said the dwarf. " So 
 be it, with the understanding that I 
 can't go beyond that day, neighbour, 
 on any account." 
 
 " Good," returned the old man. 
 " I shall remember it." 
 
 Mr. Quilp seemed rather puzzled 
 by the strange, even, spiritless way in 
 which all this was said ; but as the 
 old man nodded his head and re- 
 peated " on Friday morning. I shall 
 remember it," he had no excuse for 
 dwelling on the subject any further, 
 
 " I 'm glad to see you well again at j and so took a friendly leave with many 
 last, neighbour," said the dwarf sitting i expressions of good-will and many 
 down opposite to him. You 're quite , compliments to his friend on his 
 strong now ? " > looking so remarkably well ; and
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 57 
 
 went below stairs to report progress 
 to Mr. Brass. 
 
 All that day, and all the next, the 
 old man remained in this state. He 
 wandered up and down the house and 
 into and out of the various rooms, as 
 if with some vague intent of bidding 
 them adieu, but he referred neither 
 by direct allusions nor in any other 
 manner to the interview of the morn- 
 ing or the necessity of finding some 
 other shelter. An indistinct idea he 
 had, that the child was desolate and 
 in want of help : for he often drew 
 her to his bosom and bade her be of 
 good cheer, saying that they would 
 not desert each other ; but he seemed 
 unable to contemplate their real 
 position more distinctly, and was still 
 the listless, passionless creature, that 
 suffering of mind and body had left 
 him. 
 
 We call this a state of childish- 
 ness, but it is the same poor hollow 
 mockery of it, that death is of sleep. 
 Where, in the dull eyes of doating 
 men, are the laughing light and life of 
 childhood, the gaiety that has known 
 no check, the frankness that has felt 
 no chill, the hope that has never 
 withered, the joys that fade in blos- 
 soming ? Where, in the sharp linea- 
 ments of rigid and unsightly death, is 
 the calm beauty of slumber, telling 
 of rest for the waking hours that are 
 past, and gentle hopes and loves for 
 those which are to come ? Lay death 
 and sleep down, side by side, and say 
 who shall find the two akin. Send 
 forth the child and childish man 
 together, and blush for the pride that 
 libels our own old happy state, and 
 gives its title to an ugly and distorted 
 image. 
 
 Thursday arrived, and there was no 
 alteration in the old man. But, a 
 change came upon him that evening, 
 as he and the child sat silently to- 
 gether. 
 
 In a small dull yard below his win- 
 dow, there was a tree green and 
 flourishing enough, for such a place 
 and as the air stirred among its leaves, 
 it threw a rippling shadow on the 
 white wall. The old man sat watch- 
 
 ing the shadows as they trembled in 
 this patch of light, until the sun went 
 down; and when it was night, and the 
 moon was slowly rising, he still sat in 
 the same spot. 
 
 To one who had been tossing on a 
 restless bed so long, even these few 
 green leaves and this tranquil light, 
 although it languished among chimneys 
 and house-tops, were pleasant things. 
 They suggested quiet places afar off, 
 and rest, and peace. 
 
 The child thought, more than once 
 that he was moved : and had forborne 
 to speak. But, now, he shed tears 
 tears that it lightened her aching 
 heart to see and making as though 
 he would fall upon his knees, besought 
 her to forgive him. 
 
 " Forgive you what ? " said Nell, 
 interposing to prevent his purpose. 
 " Oh grandfather, what should / for- 
 give ? " 
 
 " All that is past, all that has come 
 upon thee, Nell, all that was done in 
 that uneasy dream," returned the old 
 man. 
 
 " Do not talk so," said the child. 
 " Pray do not. Let us speak of some- 
 thing else." 
 
 " Yes, yes, we will," he rejoined. 
 " And it shall be of what we talked of 
 long ago many months months is 
 it, or weeks, or days ? which is it 
 NelH" 
 
 " I do not understand you," said 
 the child. 
 
 " It has come back upon me to-day, 
 it has all come back since we have 
 been sitting here. I bless thee for it, 
 Nell ! " 
 
 " For what, dear grandfather ? " 
 
 " For what you said when we were 
 first made beggars, Nell. Let us speak 
 softly. Hush ! for if they knew our 
 purpose down stairs, they would cry 
 that I was mad and take thee from me. 
 We will not stop here, another day. 
 We will go far away from here." 
 
 " Yes, let us go," said the child 
 earnestly. " Let us begone from this 
 place, and never turn back or think 
 of it again. Let us wander barefoot 
 through the world, rather than linger 
 here."
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 " We will " answered the old man, 
 " we will travel afoot through the 
 fields and woods, and by the side of 
 rivers, and trust ourselves to God in 
 the places where He dwells. It is far 
 better to lie down at night beneath an 
 open sky like that yonder see how 
 bright it is ! than to rest in close 
 rooms which are always full of care 
 and weary dreams. Thou and I to- 
 gether, Nell, may be cheerful and 
 happy yet, and learn to forget this 
 time, as if it had never been." 
 
 " We will be happy," cried the 
 child. " We never can be here." 
 
 " No, we never can again never 
 again that 's truly said," rejoined the 
 old man. " Let us steal away to-mor- 
 row morning early and softly, that 
 we may not be seen or heard and 
 leave no trace or track for them to 
 follow by. Poor Nell! Thy cheek is 
 pale, and thy eyes are heavy with 
 watching and weeping with watching 
 and weeping for me I know for me ; 
 but thou wilt be well again, and merry 
 too, when we are far away. To-mor- 
 row morning, dear, we'll turn our 
 faces from this scene of sorrow, and 
 be as free and happy as the birds." 
 
 And then, the old man clasped his 
 hands above her head, and said, in a 
 few broken words, that from that time 
 forth they would wander up and down 
 together, and never part more until 
 Death took one or other of the twain. 
 
 The child's heart beat high with 
 hope and confidence. She had no 
 thought of hunger, or cold, or thirst, 
 or suffering. She saw in this, but a 
 return of the simple pleasures they 
 had once enjoyed, a relief from the 
 gloomy solitude in which she had 
 lived, an escape from the heartless 
 people by whom she had been sur- 
 rounded in her late time of trial, the 
 restoration of the old man's health 
 and peace, and a life of tranquil hap- 
 piness. Sun, and stream, and meadow, 
 and summer days, shone brightly in 
 her view, and there was no dark tint 
 in all the sparkling picture. 
 
 The old man had slept, for some 
 hours, soundly in his bed, and she was 
 yet busily engaged in preparing for 
 
 their flight. There were a few articles 
 of clothing for herself to carry, and a 
 few for him ; old garments, such as 
 became their fallen fortunes, laid out 
 to wear ; and a staff to support his 
 feeble steps, put ready for his use. 
 But this was not all her task ; for now 
 she must visit the old rooms for the 
 last time. 
 
 And how different the parting with 
 them, was, from any she had expected, 
 and most of all from that which she 
 had ot'tenest pictured to herself. How 
 could she ever have thought of bidding 
 them farewell in triumph, when the 
 recollection of the many hours she had 
 passed among them rose to her swell- 
 ing heart, and made her feel the wish 
 a cruelty : lonely and sad though many 
 of those hours had been ! She sat 
 down at the window where she had 
 spent so many evenings darker far, 
 than this and every thought of hope 
 or cheerfulness that had occurred to 
 her in that place came vividly upon 
 her mind, and blotted out all its 
 dull and mournful associations in an 
 instant. 
 
 Her own little room too, where she 
 had so often knelt down and prayed at 
 night prayed for the time which she 
 hoped was dawning now the little 
 room where she' had slept so peace- 
 fully, and dreamed such pleasant 
 dreams it was hard not to be able to 
 glance round it once more, and to be 
 forced to leave it without one kind 
 look or grateful tear. There were 
 some trifles there poor useless things 
 that she would have liked to take 
 away ; but that was impossible. 
 
 This brought to mind her bird, her 
 poor bird, who hung there yet. She 
 wept bitterly for the loss of this little 
 creature until the idea occurred to 
 her she did not know how, or why, it 
 came into her head that it might, by 
 some means, fall into the hands of Kit 
 who would keep it for her sake, and 
 think, perhaps, that she had left it 
 behind in the hope that he might have 
 it, and as an assurance that she was 
 grateful to him. She was calmed and 
 comforted by the thought, and went to 
 rest with a lighter heart.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 From many dreams of rambling 
 through light and sunny places, but 
 with some vague object unattained 
 which ran indistinctly through them 
 all, she awoke to find that it was yet 
 night, and that the stars were shining 
 brightly in the sky. At length, the 
 day began to glimmer, and the stars to 
 grow pale and dim. As soon as she 
 was sure of this, she arose, and 
 dressed herself for the journey. 
 
 The old man was yet asleep, and as 
 she was unwilling to disturb him, she 
 left him to slumber on, until the sun 
 rose. He was anxious that they 
 should leave the house without a 
 minute's loss of time, and was soon 
 ready. 
 
 The child then took him by the 
 hand, and they trod lightly and cau- 
 tiously down the stairs, trembling 
 whenever a board creaked, and often 
 stopping to listen. The old man had 
 forgotten a kind of wallet which con- 
 tained the light burden he had to carry ; 
 and the going back a few steps to 
 fetch it, seemed an interminable delay. 
 
 At last, they reached the passage on 
 the ground floor, where the snoring of 
 Mr. Quilp and his legal friend sounded 
 more terrible in their ears than the 
 roars of lions. The bolts of the door 
 were rusty, and difficult to unfasten 
 without noise. When they were all 
 drawn back, it was found to be locked, 
 and, worst of all, the key was gone. 
 Then, the child remembered, for the 
 first time, one of the nurses having 
 told her that Quilp always locked 
 both the house-doors at night, and 
 kept the keys on the table in his 
 bedroom. 
 
 It was not without great fear and 
 trepidation, that little Nell slipped off 
 her shoes and gliding through the 
 store-room of old curiosities, where 
 Mr. Brass the ugliest piece of goods 
 in all the stock lay sleeping on a 
 mattress, passed into her own little 
 chamber. 
 
 Here she stood, for a few moments, 
 quite transfixed with terror at the 
 
 sight of Mr. Quilp, who was hanging 
 so far out of bed that he almost seemed 
 to be standing on his head, and who, 
 either from the uneasiness of this 
 posture, or in one of his agreeable 
 habits, was gasping and growling with 
 his mouth wide open, and the whites 
 (or rather the dirty yellows) of his 
 eyes distinctly visible. It was no 
 time, however, to ask whether any- 
 thing ailed him; so, possessing herself 
 of the key after one hasty glance 
 about the room, and repassing the 
 prostrate Mr. Brass, she rejoined the 
 old man in safety. They got the door 
 open without noise, and passing into 
 the street, stood still. 
 
 " Which way ? " said the child. 
 
 The old man looked, irresolutely 
 and helplessly, first at her, then to the 
 right and left, then at her again, and 
 shook his head. It was plain that she 
 was thenceforth his guide and leader. 
 The child felt it, but had no doubts or 
 misgiving, and putting her hand in his, 
 led him gently away. 
 
 It was the beginning of a day in 
 June; the deep blue sky unsullied by 
 a cloud, and teeming with brilliant 
 light. The streets were, as yet, nearly 
 free from passengers, the houses and 
 shops were closed, and the healthy air 
 of morning fell like breath from angels, 
 on the sleeping town. 
 
 The old man and the child passed 
 on through the glad silence, elate with 
 hope and pleasure. They were alone 
 together, once again ; every object was 
 bright and fresh ; nothing reminded 
 them, otherwise than by contrast, of 
 the monotony and constraint they 
 had left behind; church towers and 
 steeples, frowning and dark at other 
 times, now shone and dazzled in the 
 sun ; each humble nook and corner 
 rejoiced in light ; and the sky, dimmed 
 only by excessive distance, shed its 
 placid smile on everything beneath. 
 
 Forth from the city, while it yet 
 slumbered, went the two poor adven- 
 turers, wandering they knew not 
 whither.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 DANIEL QCILP of Tower Hill, and 
 Sampson Brass of Bevis Marks in the 
 city of London, Gentleman, one of her 
 Majesty's attornies of the Courts of 
 King's Bench and Common Pleas at 
 Westminster and a solicitor of the 
 High Court of Chancery, slumbered 
 on, unconscious and unsuspicious of 
 any mischance, until a knocking at 
 the street door, often repeated and 
 gradually mounting up from a modest 
 single rap to a perfect battery of 
 knocks, fired in long discharges with a 
 very short interval between, caused 
 the said Daniel Quilp to struggle into 
 a horizontal position, and to stare at 
 the ceiling with a drowsy indifference, 
 betokening that he heard the noise 
 and rather wondered at the same, 
 but couldn't be at the trouble of 
 bestowing any further thought upon 
 the subject. 
 
 As the knocking, however, instead 
 of accommodating itself to his lazy 
 state, increased in vigour and became 
 more importunate, as if in earnest 
 remonstrance against his falling asleep 
 again, now that he had once opened his 
 eyes, Daniel Quilp began by degrees 
 to comprehend the possibility of there 
 being somebody at the door ; and thus 
 he gradually came to recollect that it 
 was Friday morning, and he had 
 ordered Mrs. Quilp to be in waiting 
 upon him at an early hour. 
 
 Mr. Brass, after writhing about, in a 
 great many strange attitudes, and 
 often twisting his face and eyes into 
 an expression like that which is 
 usually produced by eating goose- 
 berries very early in the season, was 
 by this time awake also. Seeing 
 that Mr. Quilp invested himself in his 
 every-day garments, he hastened to do 
 the like, putting on his shoes before 
 his stockings, and thrusting his legs 
 into his coat sleeves, and making such 
 other small mistakes in his toilet as 
 are not uncommon to those who dress 
 in a hurry, and labour under the agita- 
 tion of having been suddenly roused. 
 
 While the attorney was thus en- 
 gaged, the dwarf was groping under 
 the table, muttering desperate impre- 
 cations on himself, and mankind in 
 general, and all inanimate objects to 
 boot, which suggested to Mr. Brass 
 the question " what 's the matter ? " 
 
 " The key," said the dwarf, looking 
 viciously at him, "the door-key, 
 that's the matter. D'ye know any- 
 thing of it ? " 
 
 " How should I know anything of 
 it, sir?" returned Mr. Brass. 
 
 " How should you I " repeated Quilp 
 with a sneer. " You 're a nice lawyer, 
 an't you ? Ugh, you idiot ! " 
 
 Not caring to represent to the dwarf 
 in his present humour, that the loss of 
 a key by another person could scarcely 
 be said to affect his (Brass's) legal 
 knowledge in any material degree, 
 Mr. Brass humbly suggested that it 
 must have been forgotten over night, 
 and was, doubtless, at that moment in 
 its native key-hole. Notwithstanding 
 that Mr. Quilp had a strong conviction 
 to the contrary, founded on his recol- 
 lection of having carefully taken it 
 out, he was fain to admit that this was 
 possible, and therefore went grumbling 
 to the door where, sure enough, he 
 found it. 
 
 Now, just as Mr. Quilp laid his 
 hand upon the lock, and saw with great 
 astonishment that the fastenings were 
 undone, the knocking came again with 
 most irritating violence, and the day- 
 light which had been shining through 
 the key-hole was intercepted on the 
 outside by a human eye. The dwarf 
 was very much exasperated, and 
 wanting somebody to wreak his ill- 
 humour upon, determined to dart out 
 suddenly, and favour Mrs. Quilp with 
 a gentle acknowledgment of her 
 attention in making that hideous 
 uproar. 
 
 With this view, he drew back the 
 lock very silently and softly, and 
 opening the door all at once, pounced 
 out upon the person on the other side,
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 61 
 
 who had at that moment raised the 
 knocker for another application, and 
 at whom the dwarf ran head first: 
 throwing out his hands and feet toge- 
 ther, and biting the air in the fullness 
 of his malice. 
 
 So far, however, from rushing upon 
 somebody who offered no resistance 
 and implored his mercy, Mr. Quilp 
 was no sooner in the arms of the indi- 
 vidual whom he had taken for his wife 
 than he found himself complimented 
 with two staggering blows on the 
 head, and two more, of the same 
 quality, in the chest ; and closing with 
 his assailant, such a shower of buffets 
 rained down upon his person as suf- 
 ficed to convince him that he was in 
 skilful and experienced hands. Nothing 
 daunted by this reception, he clung 
 tight to his opponent, and bit and 
 hammered away with such good-will 
 and heartiness, that it was at least a 
 couple of minutes before he was dis- 
 lodged. Then, and not until then, 
 Daniel Quilp found himself, all flushed 
 and dishevelled, in the middle of the 
 street, with Mr. Richard Swiveller 
 performing a kind of dance round him 
 and requiring to know " whether he 
 wanted any more." 
 
 " There 's plenty more of it at the 
 same shop," said Mr. Swiveller, by 
 turns advancing and retreating in a 
 threatening attitude, " a large and ex- 
 tensive assortment always on hand 
 country orders executed with promp- 
 titude and despatch will you have a 
 little more, sir don't say no, if you'd 
 rather not." 
 
 " I thought it was somebody else," 
 said Quilp rubbing his shoulders, 
 "why did'nt you say who you 
 were ! " 
 
 " Why did'nt you say who you 
 were ! " returned Dick, " instead of 
 flying out of the house like a Bed- 
 lamite ! " 
 
 " It was you that that knocked," 
 said the dwarf, getting up with a short 
 groan, " was it \ " 
 
 "Yes, I am the man," replied 
 Dick. " That lady had begun when 
 I came, but she knocked too soft, so 
 I relieved her." As he said this, he 
 
 pointed towards Mrs. Quilp, who stood 
 trembling at a little distance. 
 
 " Humph ! " muttered the dwarf, 
 darting an angry look at his wife, " I 
 thought it was your fault ! And you, 
 sir, don't you know there has been 
 somebody ill here, that you knock as 
 if you 'd beat the door down 1 " 
 
 "Damme !" answered Dick, "that's 
 why I did it. I thought there was 
 somebody dead here." 
 
 " You came for some purpose, I 
 suppose," said Quilp. " What is it 
 you want ? " 
 
 " I want to know how the old 
 gentleman is," rejoined Mr. Swiveller, 
 " and to hear from Nell herself, with 
 whom I should like to have a little 
 talk. I 'm a friend of the family, 
 sir, at least I 'm the friend of one 
 of the family, and that's the same 
 thing." 
 
 " You 'd better walk in then," said 
 the dwarf. " Go on, sir, go on. Now 
 Mrs. Quilp after you, ma'am." 
 
 Mrs. Quilp hesitated, but Mr. Quilp 
 insisted. And it was not a contest of 
 politeness, or by any means a matter 
 of form, for she knew very well that 
 her husband wished to enter the house 
 in this order, that he might have a 
 favourable opportunity of inflicting a 
 few pinches on her arms, which were 
 seldom free from impressions of his 
 fingers in black and blue colours. 
 Mr. Swiveller, who was not in the 
 secret, was a little surprised to hear 
 a suppressed scream, and, looking 
 round, to see Mrs. Quilp following 
 him with a sudden jerk ; but he did 
 not remark on these appearances, and 
 soon forgot them. 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Quilp," said the dwarf 
 when they had entered the shop, 
 "go you up stairs, if you please, to 
 Nelly's room, and tell her that she 's 
 wanted." 
 
 " You seem to make yourself at 
 home here," said Dick, who was 
 unacquainted with Mr. Quilp's autho- 
 rity. 
 
 " I am at home, young gentleman," 
 returned the dwarf. 
 
 Dick was pondering what these 
 words might mean, and still more
 
 62 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 what the presence of Mr. Brass might 
 mean, when Mrs. Quilp came hurry- 
 ing down stairs, declaring that the 
 rooms above, were empty. 
 
 " Empty, you fool ! " said the dwarf. 
 
 " I give you my word, Quilp," 
 answered his trembling wife, " that I 
 have been into every room and there's 
 not a soul in any of them." 
 
 " And that," said Mr. Brass, clap- 
 ping his hands once, with an emphasis, 
 " explains the mystery of the key ! " 
 
 Quilp looked frowningly at him, and 
 frowningly at his wife, and frowningly 
 at Richard Swiveller ; but, receiving 
 110 enlightenment from any of them, 
 hurried up stairs, whence he soon 
 hurried down again, confirming the 
 report which had been already made. 
 
 " It 's a strange way of going," he 
 said, glancing at Swiveller : " very 
 strange not to communicate with me 
 who am such a close and intimate 
 friend of his ! Ah ! he '11 write to 
 me no doubt, or he '11 bid Nelly write 
 yes, yes, that 's what he '11 do. 
 Nelly's very fond of me. Pretty 
 Nell ! " 
 
 Mr. Swiveller looked, as he was, 
 all open-mouthed astonishment. Still 
 glancing furtively at him, Quilp turned 
 to Mr. Brass and observed, with as- 
 sumed carelessness, that this need 
 not interfere with the removal of the 
 
 " For indeed," he added, " we knew 
 that they'd go away to-day, but not 
 that they'd go so early, or so quietly. 
 But they have their reasons, they 
 have their reasons." 
 
 "Where in the devil's name are 
 they gone ? " said the wondering 
 Dick. 
 
 Quilp shook his head, and pursed 
 up his lips, in a manner which implied 
 that he knew very well, but was not 
 at liberty to say. 
 
 " And what," said Dick, looking at 
 the confusion about him, "what do 
 you mean by moving the goods ? " 
 
 " That I have bought 'em, sir," re- 
 joined Quilp. " Eh ? What then ? " 
 
 "Has the sly old fox made his 
 fortune then, and gone to live in a 
 tranquil cot in a pleasant spot with 
 
 a distant view of the changing sea ? " 
 said Dick, in great bewilderment. 
 
 " Keeping his place of retirement 
 very close, that he may not be visited 
 too often by affectionate grandsons 
 and their devoted friends, eh 1 " 
 added the dwarf, rubbing his hands 
 hard ; " I say nothing, but is that 
 your meaning ? " 
 
 Richard Swiveller was utterly aghast 
 at this unexpected alteration of cir- 
 cumstances, which threatened the 
 complete overthrow of the project in 
 which he bore so conspicuous a part, 
 and seemed to nip his prospects in 
 the bud. Having only received from 
 Frederick Trent, late on the previous 
 night, information of the old man's 
 illness, he had come upon a visit of 
 condolence and inquiry to Nell, pre- 
 pared with the first instalment of that 
 long train of fascinations which was 
 to fire her heart at last. And here, 
 when he had been thinking of all 
 kinds of graceful and insinuating 
 approaches, and meditating on the 
 fearful retaliation which was slowly 
 working against Sophy Wackles 
 here were Nell, the old man, and all 
 the money gone, melted away, de- 
 camped he knew not whither, as if 
 with a fore-knowledge of the scheme 
 and a resolution to defeat it in the 
 very outset, before a step was taken 
 
 In his secret heart, Daniel Quilp 
 was both surprised and troubled by 
 the flight which had been made. It 
 had not escaped his keen eye that 
 some indispensable articles of clothing 
 were gone with the fugitives, and 
 knowing the old man's weak state of 
 mind, he marvelled what that course 
 of proceeding might be in which he 
 had so readily procured the concur- 
 rence of the child. It must not be 
 supposed (or it would be a gross in- 
 justice to Mr. Quilp) that he was 
 tortured by any disinterested anxiety 
 on behalf of either. His uneasiness 
 arose from a misgiving that the old 
 man had some secret store of money 
 which he had not suspected ; and the 
 bare idea of its escaping his clutches, 
 overwhelmed him with mortification 
 and self-reproach.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 63 
 
 In this frame of mind, it was some 
 consolation to him to find that Richard 
 Swiveller, was, for different reasons, 
 evidently irritated and disappointed 
 by the same cause. It was plain, 
 thought the dwarf, that he had come 
 there, on behalf of his friend, to cajole 
 or frighten the old man out of some 
 small fraction of that wealth of which 
 they supposed him to have an abund- 
 ance. Therefore, it was a relief to vex 
 his heart with a picture of the riches 
 the old man hoarded, and to expatiate 
 on his cunning in removing himself 
 even beyond the reach of importunity. 
 
 "Well," said Dick, with a blank 
 look, " I suppose it 'a of no use my 
 staying here." 
 
 "Not the least in the world," re- 
 joined the dwarf. 
 
 " You '11 mention that I called, per- 
 haps ? " said Dick. 
 
 Mr. Quilp nodded, and said he cer- 
 tainly would, the very first time he 
 saw them. 
 
 " And say," added Mr. Swiveller, 
 " say, sir, that I was wafted here upon 
 the pinions of concord; that I came to 
 remove, with the rake of friendship, 
 the seeds of mutual wiolence and 
 heart-burning, and to sow in their 
 place, the germs of social harmony. 
 Will you have the goodness to charge 
 yourself with that commission, sir ? " 
 
 " Certainly ! " rejoined Quilp. 
 
 " Will you be kind enough to add to 
 it, sir," said Dick, producing a very 
 small limp card, " that that is my ad- 
 dress, and that I am to be found at 
 home every morning. Two distinct 
 knocks, sir, will produce the slavey at 
 any time. My particular friends, sir, 
 are accustomed to sneeze when the 
 door is opened, to give her to under- 
 stand that they ere my friends and 
 have no interested motives in asking 
 if I 'm at home. I beg your pardon ; 
 will you allow me to look at that card 
 again 1 " 
 
 " Oh ! by all means," reioined 
 Quilp. 
 
 " By a slight and not unnatural 
 mistake, sir," said Dick, substituting 
 another in its stead, " I had handed 
 you the pass-ticket of a select con- 
 
 vivial circle called the Glorious Apol- 
 lers, of which I have the honour to be 
 Perpetual Grand. That is the proper 
 document, sir. Good morning." 
 
 Quilp bade him good day ; the per- 
 petual Grand Master of the Glorious 
 .Apollers, elevating his hat in honour 
 of Mrs. Quilp, dropped it carelessly 
 on the side of his head again, and dis- 
 appeared with a flourish. 
 
 By this time, certain vans had 
 arrived for the conveyance of the 
 goods, and divers strong men in caps 
 were balancing chests of drawers and 
 other trifles of that nature upon their 
 heads, and performing muscular feats 
 which heightened their complexions 
 considerably. Not to be behind-hand 
 in the bustle, Mr. Quilp went to work 
 with surprising vigour ; hustling and 
 driving the people about, like an evil 
 spirit ; setting Mrs. Quilp upon all 
 kinds of arduous and impracticable 
 tasks ; carrying great weights up and 
 down, with no apparent effort ; kick- 
 ing the boy from the wharf, whenever 
 he could get near him ; and inflicting, 
 with his loads, a great many sly bumps 
 and blows on the shoulders of Mr. 
 Brass, as he stood upon the door-steps 
 to answer all the inquiries of curious 
 neighbours: which was his department. 
 His presence and example diffused 
 such alacrity among the persons em- 
 ployed, that, in a few hours, the house 
 was emptied of everything, but pieces 
 of matting, empty porter-pots, and 
 scattered fragments of straw. 
 
 Seated, like an African chief, on 
 one of these pieces of matting, the 
 dwarf was regaling himself in the 
 parlour, with bread and cheese and 
 beer, when he observed, without ap- 
 pearing to do so, that a boy was pry- 
 ing in at the outer-door. Assured 
 that it was Kit, though he saw little 
 more than his nose, Mr. Quilp hailed 
 him by his name ; whereupon, Kit 
 came in and demanded what he 
 wanted. 
 
 " Come here, you sir," said the 
 dwarf. " Well, so your old master 
 and young roistreas have gone 1" 
 
 " Where ? " rejoined Kit, looking 
 round.
 
 64 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 " Do you mean to say you don't 
 know where ?" answered Quilp sharply. 
 " Where have they gone, eh ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Kit. 
 
 " Come," retorted Quilp, " let's have 
 no more of this ! Do you mean to say 
 that you don't know they went away 
 by stealth, as soon as it was light this 
 morning I " 
 
 " No," said the boy, in evident sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " You don't know that 1 " cried 
 Quilp. " Don't know that you were 
 hanging about tne house the other 
 night, like a thief, eh ? Weren't you 
 told then ? " 
 
 " No," replied the boy. 
 
 " You were not ? " said Quilp. 
 " What were you told then ; what 
 were you talking about 2 " 
 
 Kit, who knew no particular reason 
 why she should keep the matter secret 
 now, related the purpose for which he 
 had come on that occasion, and the 
 proposal he had made. 
 
 " Oh ! " said the dwarf after a little 
 consideration. " Then, I think they '11 
 come to you yet." 
 
 ' Do you think they will ? " cried 
 Kit eagerly. 
 
 " Aye, I think they will ? " returned 
 the dwarf. " Now, when they do, let 
 me know ; d'ye hear ? Let me know, 
 and I '11 give you something. I want to 
 do 'em a kindness, and I can't do 'em 
 a kindness unless I know where they 
 are. You hear what I say ? " 
 
 Kit might have returned some an- 
 swer which would not have been 
 agreeable to his irascible questioner, 
 if the boy from the wharf, who had 
 been skulking about the room in 
 search of anything that might have 
 been left about by accident, had not 
 happened to cry, " Here 's a bird ! 
 What 's to be done with this ? " 
 
 " Wring its neck," rejoined Quilp. 
 
 ** Oh no, don't do that," said Kit, 
 stepping forward. " Give it to me." 
 
 " Oh yes, I dare say," cried the 
 other boy. " Come ! You let the cage 
 alone, and let me wring its neck will 
 you? He said I was to do it. You 
 let the cage alone will you." 
 
 " Give it here, give it to me, you 
 
 dogs," roared Quilp. " Fight for it, you 
 dogs, or I '11 wring its neck myself ! " 
 
 Without further persuasion, the 
 two- boys fell upon each other, tooth 
 and nail, while Quilp, holding up the 
 cage in one hand, and chopping the 
 ground with his knife in an ecstacy, 
 urged them on by his taunts and cries 
 to fight more fiercely. They were a 
 pretty equal match, and rolled about 
 together, exchanging blows which were 
 by no means child's play, until at 
 length Kit, planting a well directed hit 
 in his adversary's chest, disengaged 
 himself, sprung nimbly up, and snatch- 
 ing the cage from Quilp's hands made 
 off with his prize. 
 
 He did not stop once, until he 
 reached home, where his bleeding face 
 occasioned great consternation, and 
 caused the elder child to howl dread- 
 fully. 
 
 " Goodness gracious, Kit, what is the 
 matter, what have you been doing ! " 
 cried Mrs. Nubbles. 
 
 " Never you mind, mother," answered 
 her son, wiping his face 011 the jack- 
 towel behind the door. " I 'm not 
 hurt, don't you be afraid for me. I've 
 been a fightin' for a bird and won him, 
 that's all. Hold your noise, little 
 Jacob. I never see such a naughty 
 boy in all my days ! " 
 
 " You have been a fighting for a 
 bird ! " exclaimed his mother. 
 
 Ah ! Y Fightin' for a bird !" re- 
 plied Kit, "and here he is Miss 
 Nelly's bird, mother, that they was 
 a goin' to wring the neck of ! 1 stop- 
 ped that, though ha ha ha ! They 
 wouldn't wring his neck and me by, 
 no no. It wouldn't do, mother, it 
 wouldn't do at all. Ha ha ha ! " 
 
 Kit laughing so heartily, with his 
 swoln and bruised face looking out of 
 the towel, made little Jacob laugh, and 
 then his mother laughed, and then the 
 baby crowed and kicked with great 
 glee, and then they all laughed in con- 
 cert : partly because of Kit's triumph, 
 and partly because they were very 
 fond of each other. When this fit was 
 over, Kit exhibited the bird to both 
 children, as a great and precious rarity 
 it was only a poor linnet and look-
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 65 
 
 ing about the wall for an old nail, 
 made a scaffolding of a chair and 
 table and twisted it out with great 
 exultation. 
 
 ' Let me see," said the boy, " I 
 think I '11 hang him in the winder, 
 because it 's more light and cheerful, 
 and he can see the sky there, if he 
 looks up very much. He's such a 
 one to sing, I can tell you ! " 
 
 So, the scaffolding was made again, 
 and Kit, climbing up with the poker 
 for a hammer, knocked in the nail 
 and hung up the cage, to the immea- 
 
 surable delight of the whole family. 
 When it had been adjusted and 
 straightened a great many times, and 
 he had walked backwards into the 
 fire-place in his admiration of it, the 
 arrangement was pronounced to be 
 perfect. 
 
 " And now mother," said the boy, 
 " before I rest any more, I '11 go out 
 and see if I can find a horse to hold, 
 and then I can buy some birdseed, and 
 a bit of something nice for you, into 
 the bargain." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 As it was very easy for Kit to per- 
 suade himself that the old house was 
 in his way, his way being anywhere, 
 he tried to look upon his passing it at 
 once more as a matter of imperative 
 and disagreeable necessity, quite apart 
 from any desire of his own, to which 
 he could not choose but yield. It is 
 not uncommon for people who are 
 much better fed and taught than Chris- 
 topher Nubbles had ever been, to 
 make duties of their inclinations in 
 matters of more doubtful propriety, and 
 to take great credit for the self-denial 
 with which they gratify themselves. 
 
 There was no need of any caution 
 this time, and no fear of being de- 
 tained by having to play out a return 
 match with Daniel Quilp's boy. The 
 place was entirely deserted, and looked 
 as dusty and dingy as if it had been so 
 for months. A rusty padlock was 
 fastened on the door, ends of dis- 
 coloured blinds and curtains flapped 
 drearily against the half-opened upper 
 windows, and the crooked holes cut in 
 the closed shutters below, were black 
 with the darkness of the inside. Some I 
 of the glass in the window he had so | 
 often watched, had been broken in the I 
 rough hurry of the morning, and that 
 room looked more deserted and dull 
 
 No. 68. 
 
 than any. A group of idle urchins 
 had taken possession of the door-steps ; 
 some were plying the knocker and 
 listening with delighted dread to the 
 hollow sounds it spread through the 
 dismantled house ; others were clus- 
 tered about the keyhole, watching half 
 in jest and half in earnest for " the 
 ghost," which an hour's gloom, added 
 to the mystery that hung about the 
 late inhabitants, had already raised. 
 Standing all alone in the midst of the 
 business and bustle of the street, the 
 house looked a picture of cold desola- 
 tion ; and Kit, who remembered the 
 cheerful fire that used to burn there 
 on a winter's night and the no less 
 cheerful laugh that made the small 
 room ring, turned quite mournfully 
 away. 
 
 It must be especially observed in 
 justice to poor Kit that he was by no 
 means of a sentimental turn, and per- 
 haps had never heard that adjective in 
 all his life. He was only a soft-hearted 
 grateful fellow, and had nothing genteel 
 or polite about him ; consequently, in- 
 stead of going home again, in his grief, 
 to kick the children and abuse his 
 mother (for, when your finely strung 
 people are out of sorts, they must have 
 everybody else unhappy likewise), he 
 
 F 5
 
 G6 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 turned his thoughts to the vulgar 
 expedient of making them more com- 
 fortable if he could. 
 
 Bless us, what a number of gentle- 
 men on horseback thero were riding 
 up and down, and how few of them 
 wanteu their horses held ! A good 
 city speculator or a parliamentary 
 commissioner could have told to a 
 fraction, from the crowds that were 
 cantering about, what sum of money 
 was realised in London, in the course 
 of a year, by holding horses alone. 
 And. undoubtedly it would have been 
 a very large one, if only a twentieth 
 part of the gentlemen without grooms 
 had had occasion to alight ; but they 
 had not ; and it is often an ill-natured 
 circumstance like this, which spoils 
 the most ingenious estimate in the 
 world. 
 
 Kit walked about, now with quick 
 steps and now with slow ; now linger- 
 ing as some rider slackened his horse's 
 pace and looked about him ; and now 
 darting at full speed up a bye street as 
 he caught a glimpse of some distant 
 horseman going lazily up the shady 
 side of the road, and promising to stop, 
 at every door. But on they all went, 
 one after another, and there was not a 
 penny stirring. " I wonder," thought 
 the boy, "if one of these gentlemen 
 knew there was nothing in the cup- 
 board at home, whether he 'd stop on 
 purpose, and make believe that he 
 wanted to call somewhere, that I might 
 earn a trifle I " 
 
 He was quite tired out with pacing 
 the streets, to say nothing of repeated 
 disappointments, and was sitting down 
 upon a step to rest, when there ap- 
 proached towards him a little clattering 
 jingling four-wheeled chaise, drawn 
 by a little obstinate-looking rough- 
 coated pony, and driven by a little 
 fat placid-faced old gentleman. Beside 
 the little old gentleman sat a little old 
 lady, plump and placid like himself, 
 and the pony was coming along at 
 his own pace and doing exactly as he 
 pleased with the whole concern. If 
 the old gentleman remonstrated by 
 shaking the reins, the pony replied 
 by shaking his head. It was plain 
 
 that the utmost the pony would con- 
 sent to do, was to go in his own way 
 up any street that the old gentleman 
 particularly wished to traverse, but 
 that it was an understanding between 
 them that he must do this after his 
 own fashion or not at all. 
 
 As they passed where he sat, Kit 
 looked so wistfully at the little turn- 
 out, that the old gentleman looked 
 at him. Kit rising and putting his 
 hand to his hat, the old gentleman 
 intimated to the pony that he wished 
 to stop, to which proposal the pony 
 (who seldom objected to that part of 
 his duty) graciously acceded. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir," said Kit. 
 "I'm sorry you stopped, sir. I only 
 meant did you want your horse 
 minded." 
 
 "I'm going to get down in the next 
 street," returned the old gentleman. 
 " If you like to come on after us, you 
 may have the job." 
 
 Kit thanked him, and joyfully 
 obeyed. The pony ran off at a sharp 
 angle to inspect a lamp-post on the 
 opposite side of the way, and then 
 went off at a tangent to another lamp- 
 post on the other side. Having satis- 
 fied himself that they were of the 
 same pattern and materials, he came 
 to a stop, apparently absorbed in 
 meditation. 
 
 " Will you go on, sir," said the old 
 gentleman, gravely, "or are we to 
 wait here for you 'till it's too late for 
 our appointment ? " 
 
 The pony remained immoveable. 
 
 " Oh you naughty Whisker," said 
 the old lady. " Fie upon you ! I am 
 ashamed of such conduct." 
 
 The pony appeared to be touched 
 by this appeal to his feelings, fo he 
 trotted on directly, though in a sulky 
 manner, and stopped no more until 
 he came to a door whereon was a brass 
 plate with the words " Witherden 
 Notary." Here the old gentleman got 
 out and helped out the old lady, and 
 then took from under the seat a nose- 
 gay resembling in sl.ape and dimen- 
 sions a full-sized warming-pan with 
 the handle cut short off. This, the 
 old lady carried into the house with a
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 67 
 
 staid and stately air, and the old 
 gentleman (who had a club-foot) fol- 
 lowed close upon her. 
 
 They went, as it was easy to tell 
 from the sound of their voices, into 
 the front parlour, which seemed to be 
 a kind of office. The day being very 
 warm and the street a quiet one, the 
 windows were wide open ; and it was 
 easy to hear through the Venetian 
 blinds all that passed inside. 
 
 At first, there was a great shaking 
 of hands and shuffling of feet, suc- 
 ceeded by the presentation of the 
 nosegay ; for a voice, supposed by the 
 listener to be that of Mr. Witherden 
 the Notary, was heard to exclaim a 
 great many times, "oh, delicious !" 
 " oh, fragrant indeed ! " and a nose, 
 also supposed to be the property of 
 that gentleman, was heard to inhale 
 the scent with a snuffle of exceeding 
 pleasure. 
 
 " I brought it in honour of the occa- 
 sion, sir," said the old lady. 
 
 " Ah ! an occasion indeed, ma'am ; 
 an occasion which does honour to me, 
 ma'am, honour to me," rejoined Mr. 
 Witherden, the notary. " I have had 
 many a gentleman articled to me, 
 ma'am, many a one. Some of them 
 are now rolling in riches, unmindful of 
 their old companion and friend, ma'am, 
 others are in the habit of calling 
 upon me to this day and saying, ' t Mr. 
 Witherden, some of the pleasantest 
 hours I ever spent in my life were 
 spent in this office were spent, sir, 
 upon this very stool';' but there was 
 never one among the number, ma 'am, 
 attached as I have been to many 
 of them, of whom I augured such 
 bright things as I do of your only 
 son." 
 
 "Oh dear!" said the old lady. 
 "How happy you do make us when 
 you tell us that, to be sure ! " 
 
 " I tell you, ma'am," said Mr. 
 Witherden, "what I think as an 
 honest man, which, as the poet 
 observes, is the noblest work of God. 
 I agree with the poet in every par- 
 ticular, ma'am. The mountainous 
 Alps on the one hand, or a humming- 
 bird on the other, is nothing, in point 
 
 of workmanship, to an honest man 
 or woman or woman." 
 
 " Anything that Mr. Witherden can 
 say of me," observed a small quiet 
 voice, " I can say, with interest, of him, 
 I am sure." 
 
 " It's a happy circumstance, a truly 
 happy circumstance," said the Notary, 
 " to happen too upon his eight-and- 
 twentieth birth-day, and I hope I 
 know how to appreciate it. I trust, 
 Mr. Garland, my dear sir, that we 
 may mutually congratulate each other 
 upon this auspicious occasion." 
 
 To this, the old gentleman replied 
 that he felt assured they might. There 
 appeared to be another shaking of 
 hands in consequence, and when it 
 was over, the old gentleman said that, 
 though he said it who should not, he 
 believed no son had ever been a 
 greater comfort to his parents than 
 Abel Garland had been to his. 
 
 " Marrying as his mother and I did , 
 late in life, sir, after waiting fora great 
 many years, until we were well enough 
 off coming together when we were 
 no longer young, and then being 
 blessed with one child who has always 
 been dutiful and affectionate why, 
 it's a source of great happiness to us 
 both, sir." 
 
 " Of course it is, I have no doubt 
 of it," returned the Notary in a sympa- 
 thising voice. "It's the contempla- 
 tion of this sort of thing, that makes 
 me deplore my fate in being a bachelor. 
 There was a young lady once, sir, the 
 daughter of an outfitting-warehouse 
 of the first respectability but that's a 
 weakness. Chuckster, bring in Mr. 
 Abel's articles." 
 
 " You see, Mr. Witherden," said the 
 old lady, " that Abel has not been 
 brought up like the run of young men. 
 He has always had a pleasure in our 
 society, and always been with us. Abel 
 has never been absent from us, for a 
 day ; has he, my dear ? " 
 
 " Never, my dear," returned the old 
 gentleman, " except when he went to 
 Margate one Saturday with Mr. Tom- 
 kinley that had been a teacher at that 
 school he went to, and came back upon 
 the Monday ; but he was very ill after 
 r2
 
 68 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 that, you remember, my dear ; it was 
 quite a dissipation." 
 
 " He was not used to it, you know," 
 said the old lady, " and he couldn't 
 bear it, that 's the truth. Besides he 
 had no comfort in being there without 
 us, and had nobody to talk to or enjoy 
 himself with." 
 
 " That was it, you know," interposed 
 the same small quiet voice that had 
 spoken once before. " I was quite 
 abroad, mother, quite desolate, and to 
 think that the sea was between us 
 oh, I never shall forget what I felt 
 when I first thought that the sea was 
 between us ! " 
 
 " Very natural under the circum- 
 stances," observed the Notary. " Mr. 
 Abel's feelings did credit to his nature, 
 and credit to your nature, ma'am, and 
 his father's nature, and human nature. 
 I trace the same current now, flowing 
 through all his quiet and unobtrusive 
 proceedings. I am about to sign my 
 name, you observe, at the foot of the 
 articles which Mr. Chuckster will wit- 
 ness ; and placing my finger upon this 
 blue wafer with the vandyked corners, 
 I am constrained to remark in a dis- 
 tinct tone of voice don't be alarmed 
 ma'am, it is merely a form of law 
 that I deliver this, as my act and deed. 
 Mr. Abel will place his name against 
 the other wafer, repeating the same 
 cabalistic words, and the business is 
 over. Ha ha ha ! You see how easily 
 these things are done ! " 
 
 There was a short silence, apparently, 
 while Mr. Abel went through the pre- 
 scribed form, and then the shaking of 
 hands and shuffling of feet were re- 
 newed, and shortly aftewards there 
 was a clinking of wine-glasses and a 
 great talkativeness on the part of 
 everybody. In about a quarter of an 
 hour Mr. Chuckster (with a pen be- 
 hind his ear and his face inflamed 
 with wine) appeared at the door, and 
 condescending to address Kit by the 
 jocose appellation of " Young Snob," 
 informed him that the visitors were 
 coming out. 
 
 Out they came forthwith ; Mr. 
 Witherden, who was short, chubby, 
 fresh-coloured, brisk, and pompous, 
 
 leading the old lady with extreme 
 politeness, and the father and son 
 following them, arm in arm. Mr. 
 Abel, who had a quaint old-fashioned 
 air about him, looked nearly of the 
 same age as his father, and bore a 
 wonderful resemblance to him in face 
 and figure, though wanting something 
 of his full, round, cheerfulness, and 
 substituting in its place a timid re- 
 serve. In all other respects, in the 
 neatness of the dress, and eyen in the 
 club-foot, he and the old gentleman 
 were precisely alike. 
 
 Having seen the old lady safely in 
 her seat, and assisted in the arrange- 
 ment of her cloak and a small basket 
 which formed an indispensable portion 
 of her equipage, Mr. Abel got into a 
 little box behind which had evidently 
 been made for his express accomoda- 
 tion, and smiled at everybody present 
 by turns, beginning with his mother 
 and ending with the pony. There 
 was then a great to-do to make the 
 pony hold up his head that the bear- 
 ing-rein might be fastened ; at last 
 even this was effected ; and the old 
 gentleman, taking his seat and the 
 reins, put his hand in his pocket to 
 find a sixpence for Kit. 
 
 He had no sixpences, neither had 
 the old lady, nor Mr. Abel, nor the 
 Notary, nor Mr. Chuckster. The old 
 gentleman thought a shilling too much, 
 but there was no shop in the street 
 to get change at, so he gave it to the 
 boy. 
 
 " There," he said jokingly, " I 'm 
 coming here again next Monday at 
 the same time, and mind you 're here 
 my lad to work it out." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Kit. " I '11 
 be sure to be here." 
 
 He was quite serious, but they all 
 laughed heartily at his saying so, 
 especially Mr. Chuckster, who roared 
 outright and appeared to relish the 
 joke amazingly. As the pony, with 
 a presentiment that he was going 
 home, or a determination that he 
 would not go anywhere else (which 
 was the same thing) trotted away 
 pretty nimbly, Kit had no time to 
 justify himself, and went his way also.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 Having expended his treasure in such 
 purchases as he knew would be most 
 acceptable at home, not forgetting 
 some seed for the wonderful bird, he 
 hastened back as fast as he could, so 
 
 elated with his success and great 
 good-fortune, that he more than half 
 expected Nell and the old man would 
 have arrived before him. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 OFTEN, while they were yet pacing i bilities be worse to bear than certain- 
 ties ? We do not shun our dying 
 friends ; the not having distinctly 
 taken leave of one among them, whom 
 we left in all kindness and affection, 
 will often embitter the whole remainder 
 of a life. 
 
 The town was glad with morning 
 light ; places that had shown ugly and 
 distrustful all night long, now wore a 
 smile ; and sparkling sunbeams danc- 
 ing on chamber windows, and twinkling 
 
 through blind and 
 sleepers' eyes, shed 
 
 curtain before 
 light even into 
 
 the silent streets of the town on the 
 morning of their departure, the child 
 trembled with a mingled sensation of 
 hope and fear as in some far-off 
 figure imperfectly seen in the clear 
 distance, her fancy traced a likeness to 
 honest Kit. But although she would 
 gladly have given him her hand and 
 thanked him for what he had said at 
 their last meeting, it was always a 
 relief to find, when they came nearer 
 to each other, that the person who 
 approached was not he, but a stranger ; 
 for even if she had not dreaded the 
 effect which the sight of him might 
 have wrought upon her fellow-tra- 
 veller, she felt that to bid farewell to 
 anybody now, and most of all to him 
 who had been so faithful and so true, 
 was more than she could bear. It was 
 enough to leave dumb tilings behind, 
 and objects that were insensible both 
 to her love and sorrow. To have 
 parted from her only other friend 
 upon the threshold of that wild jour- 
 ney, would have wrung her heart 
 indeed. 
 
 Why is it that we can better bear to 
 part in spirit than in body, and while 
 we have the fortitude to act farewell 
 have not the nerve to say it ? On the 
 eve of long voyages or an absence of 
 many years, friends who are tenderly 
 attached will separate with the usual 
 look, the usual pressure of the hand, 
 planning one final interview for the 
 
 morrow, while each well knows that it j that sleep by night, opened their gentle 
 is but a poor feint to save the pain of 
 
 dreams, and chased away the shadows 
 of the night. Birds in hot rooms, 
 covered up close and dark, felt it was 
 morning, and chafed and grew restless 
 in their little cells ; bright-eyed mice 
 crept back to their tiny homes and 
 nestled timidly together ; the sleek 
 house-cat, forgetful of her prey, sat 
 winking at the rays of sun starting 
 through key-hole and cranny in the 
 door, and longed for her stealthy run 
 and warm sleek bask outside. The 
 nobler beasts confined in dens, stood 
 motionless behind their bars, and gazed 
 on fluttering boughs, and sunshine 
 peeping through some little window, 
 with eyes in which old forests gleamed 
 then trod impatiently the track their 
 prisoned feet had worn and stopped 
 and gazed again. Men in their dun- 
 geons stretched their cramped cold 
 limbs and cursed the stone that no 
 bright sky could warm. The flowers 
 
 uttering that one word, and that the 
 meeting will never be. Should possi- 
 
 eyes and turned them to the day. The 
 light, creation's mind, was everywhere, 
 and all things owned its power.
 
 70 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 The two pilgrims, often pressing 
 each other's hands, or exchanging a 
 smile or cheerful look, pursued their 
 way in silence. Bright and happy as 
 it was, there was something solemn in 
 the long, deserted streets, from which, 
 like bodies without souls, all habitual 
 character and expression had departed, 
 leaving but one dead uniform repose, 
 that made them all alike. All was so 
 still at that early hour, that the few 
 pale people whom they met seemed as 
 much unsuited to the scene, as the 
 sickly lamp which had been here and 
 there left burning, was powerless and 
 faint in the full glory of the sun. 
 
 Before they had penetrated very far 
 into the labyrinth of men's abodes 
 which yet lay between them and the 
 outskirts, this aspect began to melt 
 away, and noise and bustle to usurp 
 its place. Some straggling carts and 
 coaches rumbling by, first broke the 
 charm, then others came, then others 
 yet more active, then a crowd. The 
 W9iider was, at first, to see a trades- 
 man's room window open, but it was a 
 rare thing, to see one closed ; then, 
 smoke rose slowly from the chimneys, 
 and sashes were thrown up to let in air, 
 and doors were opened, and servant 
 girls, looking lazily in all directions 
 but their brooms, scattered brown 
 clouds of dust into the eyes of shrink- 
 ing passengers, or listened disconso- 
 lately to milkmen who spoke of country 
 fairs, and told of waggons in the mews, 
 with awnings and all things complete 
 and gallant swains to boot, which 
 another hour would see upon their 
 journey. 
 
 This quarter passed, they came upon 
 the haunts of commerce and great 
 traffic, where many people were resort- 
 ing, and business was already rife. 
 The old man looked about him with a 
 startled and bewildered gaze, for these 
 were places that he hoped to shun. 
 He pressed his finger on his lip, and 
 drew the child along by narrow courts 
 and winding ways, nor did he seem at 
 ease until they had left it far behind, 
 often casting a backward look towards 
 it, murmuring that ruin and self- 
 murder were crouching in every street, 
 
 and would follow if they scented them ; 
 and that they could not fly too fast. 
 
 Again this quarter passed, they 
 came upon a straggling neighbourhood, 
 where the mean houses parcelled off 
 in rooms, and windows patched with 
 rags and paper, told of the populous 
 poverty that sheltered there. The 
 shops sold goods that only poverty 
 could buy, and sellers and buyers were 
 pinched and griped alike. Here were 
 poor streets where faded gentility 
 essayed with scanty space and ship- 
 wrecked means to make its last feeble 
 stand, but tax-gatherer and creditor 
 came there as elsewhere, and the 
 
 Eoverty that yet faintly struggled was 
 ardly less squalid and manifest than 
 that which had long ago submitted and 
 given up the game. 
 
 This was a wide, wide track for 
 the humble followers of the camp of 
 wealth pitch their tents round about it 
 for many a mile but its character 
 was still the same. Damp rotten 
 houses, many to let, many yet building, 
 many half-built and mouldering away 
 lodgings, where it would be hard to 
 tell which needed pity most, those who 
 let or those who came to take chil- 
 dren, scantily fed and clothed, spread 
 over every street, and sprawling hi the 
 dust scolding mothers, stamping their 
 slipshod feet with noisy threats upon 
 the pavement shabby fathers, hurry- 
 ing with dispirited looks to the occu- 
 pation which brought them " daily 
 bread " and little more mangling- 
 women, washer-women, cobblers, tail- 
 ors, chandlers, driving their trades in 
 parlours and kitchens and back rooms 
 and garrets, and sometimes all of them 
 under the same roof brick-fields 
 skirting gardens paled with staves of 
 old casks, or timber pillaged from 
 houses burnt down, and blackened and 
 blistered by the flames mounds of 
 dock-weed, nettles, coarse grass and 
 oyster shells, heaped in rank confusion 
 small dissenting chapels to teach, 
 with no lack of illustration, the miseries 
 of Earth, and plenty of new churches, 
 erected with a little superfluous wealth, 
 to show the way to Heaven. 
 
 At length these streets, becoming
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 71 
 
 more straggling yet, dwindled and 
 dwindled away, until there were only 
 small garden patches bordering the 
 road, with many a summer-house 
 innocent of paint and built of old 
 timber or some fragments of a boat, 
 green as the tough cabbage-stalks that 
 grew about it, and grottoed at the 
 seams with toad -stools and tight- 
 sticking snails. To these succeeded 
 pert cottages, two and two with plots 
 of ground in front, laid out in angular 
 beds with stiff box borders and narrow 
 paths between, where footstep never 
 strayed to make the gravel rough. 
 Then, came the public-house, freshly 
 painted in green and white, with tea- 
 gardens and a bowling green, spurning 
 its old neighbour with the horse-trough 
 where the waggons stopped ; then, 
 fields ; and then, some houses, one by 
 one, of goodly size with lawns, some 
 even with a lodge where dwelt a porter 
 and his wife. Then, came a turnpike ; 
 then fields again with trees and hay- 
 stacks; then, a hill ; and on the top of 
 that, the traveller might stop, and 
 looking back at old Saint Paul's loom- 
 ing through the smoke, its cross 
 peeping above the cloud (if the day 
 were clear) and glittering in the sun ; 
 and casting his eyes upon the Babel 
 out of which it grew until he traced it 
 down to the furthest outposts of the 
 invading army of bricks and mortar 
 whose station lay for the present 
 nearly at his feet might feel at last 
 that he was clear of London. 
 
 Near such a spot as this, and in a 
 pleasant field, the old man and his 
 little guide (if guide she were, who 
 knew not whither they were bound) 
 sat down to rest She had had the 
 precaution to furnish her basket with 
 some slices of bread and meat, and 
 here they made their frugal breakfast. 
 
 The freshness of the day, the sing- 
 ing of the birds, the beauty of the 
 waving grass, the deep green leaves, 
 the wild flowers, and the thousand 
 exquisite scents and sounds that floated 
 in the air, deep joys to most of us, 
 but most of all to those whose life is 
 in a crowd or who live solitarily in 
 great cities as in the bucket of a 
 
 human well, sunk into their breasts 
 and made them very glad. The child 
 had repeated her artless prayers once 
 that morning, more earnestly perhaps 
 than she had ever done in all her life, 
 but as she felt all this, they rose to her 
 lips again. The old man took off his 
 hat he had no memory for the words 
 but he said amen, and that they 
 were very good. 
 
 There had been an old copy of the 
 Pilgrim's Progress, with strange plates, 
 upon a shelf at home, over which she 
 had often pored whole evenings, won- 
 dering whether it was true in every 
 word, and where those distant coun- 
 tries with the curious names might be. 
 As she looked back upon the place 
 they had left, one part of it came 
 strongly on her mind. 
 
 " Dear grandfather," she said, " only 
 that this place is prettier and a great 
 deal better than the real one, if that 
 in the book is like it, I feel as if we 
 were both Christian, and laid down on 
 this grass all the cares and troubles 
 we brought with us ; never to take 
 them up again." 
 
 " No never to return never to 
 return " replied the old man, waving 
 his hand toward the city. " Thou and 
 I are free of it now, Nell. They shall 
 never lure us back." 
 
 " Are you tired ? " said the child, 
 " are you sure you don't feel ill from 
 this long walk ? " 
 
 " I shall never feel ill again, now 
 that we are once away," was his reply. 
 " Let us be stirring, Nell. We must 
 be further away a long, 'long way 
 further. We are too near to stop, and 
 be at rest. Come ! " 
 
 There was a pool of clear water in 
 the field, in which the child laved her 
 hands and face, and cooled her feet 
 before setting forth to walk again. 
 She would have the old man refresh 
 himself in this way too, and making 
 him sit down upon the grass, cast the 
 water on him with her hands, and 
 dried it with her simple dress. 
 
 " I can do nothing for myself, my 
 darling," said the grandfather. " I 
 don't know how it is I could once, but 
 the time 's gone. Don't leave me, Nell ;
 
 72 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 say that thou 'It not leave me. I loved 
 thee all the while, indeed I did. If I 
 lose thee too, my dear, I must die ! " 
 
 He laid his head upon her shoulder 
 and moaned piteously. The time had 
 been, and a very few days before, when 
 the child could not have restrained 
 her tears and must have wept with 
 him. But now she soothed him with 
 gentle and tender words, smiled at his 
 thinking they could ever part, and 
 rallied him cheerfully upon the jest. 
 He was soon calmed and fell alseep, 
 singing to himself in a low voice, like 
 a little child. 
 
 He awoke refreshed, and they con- 
 tinued their journey. The road was 
 pleasant, lying between beautiful pas- 
 tures and fields of corn, above which, 
 poised high in the clear blue sky, the 
 lark trilled out her happy song. The 
 air came laden with the fragrance it 
 caught upon its way, and the bees, 
 upborne upon its scented breath, hum- 
 med forth their drowsy satisfaction as 
 they floated by. 
 
 They were now in the open country ; 
 the houses were very few and scattered 
 at long intervals, often miles apart. 
 Occasionally they came upon a cluster 
 of poor cottages, some with a chair or 
 low board put across the open door to 
 keep the scrambling children from the 
 road, others shut up close while all the 
 family were working in the fields. 
 These were often the commencement 
 of a little village : and after an interval 
 came a wheelwright's shed or perhaps 
 a blacksmith's forge ; then a thriving 
 farm with sleepy cows lying about the 
 yard, and horses peering over the low 
 wall and scampering away when har- 
 nessed horses passed upon the road, as 
 though in triumph at their freedom. 
 There were dull pigs too, turning up 
 the ground in search of dainty food, 
 and grunting their monotonous grumb- 
 lings as they prowled about, or crossed 
 each other in their quest ; plump 
 pigeons skimming round the roof or 
 strutting on the eaves ; and ducks and 
 geese, far more graceful in their own 
 conceit, waddling awkwardly about the 
 edges of the pond or sailing glibly on 
 its surface. The farm-yard passed, 
 
 then came the little inn ; the humbler 
 beer-shop ; and the village trades- 
 man's ; then the lawyer's and the 
 parson's at whose dread names the 
 beer-shop trembled ; the church then 
 peeped out modestly from a clump of 
 trees ; then there were a few more 
 cottages ; then the cage, and pound, 
 and not unfrequently, on a bank by the 
 way-side, a deep old dusty well. Then 
 came the trim-hedged fields on either 
 hand, and the open road again. 
 
 They walked all day, and slept that 
 night at a small cottage where beds 
 were let to travellers. Next morning 
 they were afoot again, and though 
 jaded at first, and very tired, recovered 
 before long and proceeded briskly 
 forward. 
 
 They often stopped to rest, but only 
 for a short space at a time, and still 
 kept on, having had but slight refresh- 
 ment since the morning. It was 
 nearly five o'clock in the afternoon, 
 when drawing near another cluster of 
 labourers' huts, the child looked wist- 
 fully in each, doubtful at which to ask 
 for permission to rest awhile, and buy 
 a draught of milk. 
 
 It was not easy to determine, for 
 she was timid and fearful of being 
 repulsed. Here was a crying child, 
 and there a noisy wife. In this, the 
 people seemed too poor ; in that, too 
 many. At length she stopped at one 
 where the family were seated round a 
 table chiefly because there was an old 
 man sitting in a cushioned chair beside 
 the hearth, and she thought he was 
 a grandfather and would feel for 
 hers. 
 
 There were besides, the cottager 
 and his wife, and three young sturdy 
 children, brown as berries. The re- 
 quest was no sooner preferred, than 
 granted. The eldest boy ran out to 
 fetch some milk, the second dragged 
 two stools towards the door, and the 
 youngest crept to his mother's gown, 
 and looked at the strangers from 
 beneath his sunburnt hand. 
 
 " God save you master," said the old 
 cottager in a thin piping voice ; " are 
 you travelling far 1 " 
 
 " Yes sir, a long way" replied the
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 73 
 
 child ; for her grandfather appealed 
 to her. 
 
 " From London 1 " enquired the old 
 man. 
 
 The child said yes. 
 
 Ah ! He had been in London many 
 a time used to go there often once, 
 with waggons. It was nigh two-and- 
 thirty year since he had been there 
 last, and he did hear say there were 
 great changes. Liko enough ! He 
 had changed, himself, since then. 
 Two-and-thirty year was a long time 
 and eighty-four a great age, though 
 there was some he had known that had 
 lived to very hard upon a hundred 
 and not so hearty as he, neither no, 
 nothing like it. 
 
 " Sit thee down, master, in the 
 elbow chair," said the old man, knock- 
 ing his stick upon the brick floor, and 
 trying to do so sharply. " Take a 
 pinch out o' that box ; I don't take 
 much myself, for it comes dear, but I 
 find it wakes me up sometimes, and 
 ye 're but a boy to me. I should have 
 a son pretty nigh as old as you if he 'd 
 lived, but they listed him for a so'ger 
 he come back home though, for all 
 he had but one poor leg. He always 
 said he 'd be buried near the sun-dial 
 he used to climb upon when he was a 
 baby, did my poor boy, and his words 
 come true you can see the place with 
 your own eyes ; we 've kept the turf 
 up, ever since." 
 
 He shook his head, and looking at 
 his daughter with watery eyes, said 
 she needn't be afraid that he was going 
 to talk about that, any more. He 
 didn't wish to trouble nobody, and if 
 he had troubled anybody by what he 
 said, he asked pardon, that was all. 
 
 The milk arrived, and the child pro- 
 ducing her little basket and selecting 
 its best fragments for her grandfather, 
 they made a hearty meal. The furni- 
 ture of the room was very homely of 
 course a few rough chairs and a table, 
 a corner cupboard with their little 
 stock of crockery and delf, a gaudy 
 tea-tray, representing a lady in bright- 
 red, walking out with a very blue 
 parasol, a few common, coloured scrip- 
 ture subjects in frames upou die wall 
 
 and chimney, an old dwarf clothes- 
 press and an eight-day clock, with a 
 few bright saucepans and a kettle, 
 comprised the whole. But everything 
 was clean and neat, and as the child 
 glanced round, she felt a tranquil air 
 of comfort and content to which she 
 had long been unaccustomed. 
 
 "How far is it to any town or 
 village 1 " she asked of the husband. 
 
 " A matter of good five mile, my 
 dear," was the reply, " but you 're not 
 going on to-night ? " 
 
 " Yes yes, Nell," said the old man 
 hastily, urging her too by signs. " Fur- 
 ther on, further on, darling, further 
 away if we walk 'till midnight." 
 
 " There 's a good barn hard by, 
 master," said the man, " or there 's 
 traveller's lodging, I know, at the Plow 
 an' Harrer. Excuse me, but you do 
 seem a little tired, and unless you 're 
 very anxious to get on " 
 
 " Yes yes, we are," returned the old 
 man fretfully. " Further away, dear 
 Nell, pray further away." 
 
 " We must go on, indeed," said the 
 child, yielding to his restless wish. 
 " We thank you very much, but we 
 cannot stop so soon. I 'm quite ready, 
 grandfather." 
 
 But the woman had observed, from 
 the young wanderer's gait, that one of 
 her little feet was blistered and sore, 
 and being a woman and a mother too, 
 she would not suifer her to go until 
 she had washed the place and applied 
 some simple remedy, which she did so 
 carefully and with such a gentle hand 
 rough-grained and hard though it 
 was, with work that the child's heart 
 was too full to admit of her saying 
 more than a fervent " God bless 
 you ! " nor could she look back nor 
 trust herself to speak, until they had 
 left the cottage some distance behind. 
 When she turned her head, she saw 
 that the whole family, even the old 
 grandfather, were standing in the road 
 watching them as they went, and so, 
 with many waves of the hand, and 
 cheering nods, and on one side at least 
 not without tears, they parted company. 
 
 They trudged forward, more slowly 
 and painfully than they had done yet,
 
 74 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 for another mile or thereabouts, when 
 they heard the sound of wheels behind 
 them, and looking round observed an 
 empty cart approaching pretty briskly. 
 The driver on coining up to them 
 stopped his horse and looked earnestly 
 at Nell. 
 
 " Didn't you stop to rest at a cottage 
 yonder 1 " he said. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the child. 
 
 "Ah ! They asked me to look out 
 for you," said the man. " I 'm going 
 your way. Give me your hand jump 
 up, master." 
 
 This was a great relief, for they 
 were very much fatigued and could 
 scarcely crawl along. To them the 
 
 jolting cart was a luxurious carriage, 
 and the ride the most delicious in the 
 world. Nell had scarcely settled her- 
 self on a little heap of straw in one 
 corner, when she fell asleep, for the 
 first time that day. 
 
 She was awakened by the stopping 
 of the cart, which was about to turn 
 up a bye-lane. The driver kindly got 
 down to help her out, and pointing to 
 some trees at a very short distance 
 before them, said that the town lay 
 there, and that they had better take 
 the path which they would see leading 
 through the churchyard. Accord- 
 ingly, towards this spot, they directed 
 their weary steps. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE sun was setting when they 
 reached 'the wicket-gate at which the 
 path began, and, as the rain falls upon 
 the just and unjust alike, it shed its 
 warm tint even upon the resting places 
 of the dead, and bade them be of good 
 hope for its rising on the morrow. 
 The church was old and gray, with ivy 
 clinging to the walls, and round the 
 porch. Shunning the tombs, it crept 
 about the mounds, beneath which slept 
 poor humble men: twining for them 
 the first wreaths they had ever won, 
 but wreaths less liable to wither and 
 far more lasting in their kind, than 
 some which were graven deep in stone 
 and marble, and told in pompous terms 
 of virtues meekly hidden for many a 
 year, and only revealed at last to 
 executors and mourning legatees. 
 
 The clergyman's horse, stumbling 
 with a dull blunt sound among the 
 graves, was cropping the grass ; at 
 onc^ deriving orthodox consolation 
 from the dead parishioners, and en- 
 forcing last Sunday's text that this 
 was what all flesh came to ; a lean ass 
 who had sought to expound it also, 
 without being qualified and ordained, 
 
 was pricking his ears in an empty 
 pound hard by, and looking with 
 hungry eyes upon his priestly neigh- 
 bour. 
 
 The old man and the child quitted 
 the gravel path, and strayed among 
 the tombs ; for there the ground was 
 soft, and easy to then? tired feet. As 
 they passed behind the church, they 
 heard voices near at hand, and pre- 
 sently came on those who had spoken. 
 
 They were two men who were seated 
 in easy attitudes upon the grass, and 
 so busily engaged as to be at first 
 unconscious of intruders. It was not 
 difficult to divine that they were of a 
 class of itinerant showmen exhibitors 
 of the freaks of Punch for, perched 
 cross-legged upon a tombstone behind 
 them, was a figure of that hero himself, 
 his nose and chin as hooked and his 
 face as beaming as usual. Perhaps 
 his imperturbable character was never 
 more strikingly developed, for he pro. 
 served his usual equable smile notwith- 
 standing that his body was dangling 
 in a most uncomfortable position, all 
 loose and limp and shapeless, while 
 his long peaked cap, unequally balanced
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 75 
 
 against his exceedingly slight legs, 
 threatened every instant to bring him 
 toppling down. 
 
 In part scattered upon the ground 
 at the feet of the two men, and in part 
 jumbled together in a long flat box, 
 were the other persons of the Drama. 
 The hero's wife and one child, die 
 hobby-horse, the doctor, the foreign 
 gentleman who not being familiar with 
 the language is unable in the repre- 
 sentation to express his ideas other- 
 wise than by the utterance of the word 
 " Shallabalah " three distinct times, the 
 radical neighbour who will by no means 
 admit that a tin bell is an organ, the 
 executioner,and the devil, were all here. 
 Their owners had evidently come to 
 that spot to make some needful repairs 
 in the stage arrangements, for one of 
 them was engaged in binding together a 
 small gallows with thread, while .the 
 other was intent upon fixing -a new 
 black wig, with the aid of a small 
 hammer and some tacks, upon the 
 head of the radical neighbour, who had 
 been beaten bald. 
 
 They raised their eyes when the old 
 man and his young companion were 
 close upon them, and pausing in their 
 work, returned their looks of curiosity. 
 One of them, the actual exhibiter no 
 doubt, was a little merry faced man 
 with a twinkling eye and a red nose, 
 who seemed to have unconsciously 
 imbibed something of his hero's cha- 
 racter. The other that was he who 
 took the money had rather a careful 
 and cautious look, which was perhaps 
 inseparable from his occupation also. 
 
 The merry man was the first to 
 greet the strangers with a nod ; and 
 following the old man's eyes, he ob- 
 served that perhaps that was the first 
 time he had ever seen a Punch off the 
 stage. (Punch, it may be remarked, 
 seemed to be pointing with the tip of 
 his cap to a most flourishing epitaph, 
 and to be chuckling over it with all his 
 heart.) 
 
 " Why do you come here to do 
 this ? " said the old man, sitting down 
 beside them, and looking at the figures 
 with extreme delight. 
 
 " Why you see," rejoined the little 
 
 man, " we 're putting up for to-night 
 at the public-house yonder, and it 
 wouldn't do to let 'em see the present 
 company undergoing repair." 
 
 " No ! " cried the old man, making 
 signs to Nell to listen, " why not, eh I 
 why not ? " 
 
 " Because it would destroy all the 
 delusion, and take away all the inte- 
 rest, wouldn't it ? " replied the little 
 man. " Would you care a .ha'penny 
 for the Lord Chancellor if you kuow'd 
 him in private and without his wig ? 
 certainly not." 
 
 " Good ! " said the old man, ventur- 
 ing to touch one of the puppets, and ' 
 drawing away bis hand with a shrill 
 laugh. " Are you going to show 'em 
 to-night ? are you 1 " 
 
 " That is the intention, governor," 
 replied the other, and unless I *m much 
 mistaken, Tommy Codlin is a calculat- 
 ing at this minute what we 've lost 
 through your coming upon us. Cheer 
 up Tommy, it can't be much." 
 
 The little man accompanied these 
 latter words with a wink, expressive of 
 the estimate he had formed of the 
 travellers' finances. 
 
 To this Mr. Codlin, who had a surly, 
 grumbling manner, replied, as he 
 twitched Punch off the tombstone and 
 flung him into the box, 
 
 " I don't care if we haven't lost a 
 farden, but you're too free. If you 
 stood hi front of the curtain and see 
 the public's faces as I do, you 'd know 
 human natur' better." 
 
 " Ah ! it 's been the spoiling of you, 
 Tommy, your taking to that branch,'' 
 rejoined his companion. " When you 
 played the ghost in the reg'lar drama 
 in the fairs, you believed in every- 
 thing except ghosts. But now you 're 
 a universal mistruster. / never see a 
 man so changed." 
 
 " Never mind," said Mr. Codlin, 
 with the air of a discontented philo- 
 sopher. " I know better now, and 
 p'raps I 'm sorry for it." 
 
 Turning over the figures in the box 
 like one who knew and despised them, 
 Mr. Codlin drew one forth and held it 
 up for the inspection of his friend : 
 
 " Jjook here ; here 's all this Judy's
 
 76 
 
 itiE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 clothes falling to pieces again. You 
 haven't got a needle and thread I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 The little man shook his head, and 
 scratched it ruefully as he contem- 
 plated this severe indisposition of a 
 principal performer. Seeing that they 
 were at a loss, the child said timidly : 
 
 " I have a needle, sir, in my basket, 
 and thread too. Will you let me try 
 to mend it for you ? I think I can 
 do it neater than you could." 
 
 Even Mr. Codlin had nothing to 
 urge against a proposal so seasonable. 
 Nelly, kneeling down beside the box, 
 was soon busily engaged in her task, 
 and accomplishing it to a miracle. 
 
 While she was thus engaged, the 
 merry little man looked at her with an 
 interest which did not appear to be 
 diminished when he glanced at her 
 helpless companion. When she had 
 finished her work he thanked her, and 
 enquired whither they were travelling. 
 
 " N no further to night, I think," 
 said the child, looking towards her 
 grandfather. 
 
 " If you 're wanting a place to stop 
 at," the man remarked j "I should 
 advise you to take up at the same 
 house with us. That's it the long, 
 low, white house there. It's very 
 cheap." 
 
 The old man, notwithstanding his 
 fatigue, would have remained in the 
 churchyard all night if his new ac- 
 quaintance had staid there too. As 
 he yielded to this suggestion a ready 
 and rapturous assent, they all rose and 
 walked away together; he keeping 
 close to the box of puppets in which 
 he was quite absorbed, the merry little 
 man carrying it slung over his arm by 
 a strap attached to it for the purpose, 
 Nelly having hold of her grandfather's 
 hand, and Mr. Codlin sauntering 
 slowly behind, casting up at the 
 church tower and neighbouring trees 
 such looks as he was accustomed in 
 town-practice to direct to drawing- 
 room and nursery windows, when 
 seeking for a profitable spot on which 
 to plant the show. 
 
 The public-house was kept by a fat 
 old landlord and landlady who made 
 
 no objection to receiving their new 
 guests, but praised Nelly's beauty and 
 were at once prepossessed in her 
 behalf. There was no other company 
 in the kitchen but the two showmen, 
 and the child felt very thankful that 
 they had fallen upon such good 
 quarters. The landlady was very 
 much astonished to learn that they 
 had come all the way from London, 
 and appeared to have no little curio- 
 sity touching their farther destination. 
 The child parried her enquiries as 
 well as she could, and with no great 
 trouble, for finding that they appeared 
 to give her pain, the old lady desisted. 
 
 " These two gentlemen have ordered 
 supper in an hour's time," she said, 
 taking her into the bar ; " and your 
 best plan will be to sup with them. 
 Meanwhile you shall have a little taste 
 of something that '11 do you good, for 
 I 'm sure you must want it after all 
 you've gone through to-day. Now, 
 don't look after the old gentleman, 
 because when you've drank that, he 
 shall have some too." 
 
 As nothing could induce the child 
 to leave him alone, however, or to 
 touch anything in which he was not 
 the first and greatest sharer, the old 
 lady was obliged to help him first. 
 When they had been thus refreshed, 
 the whole house hurried away into an 
 empty stable where the show stood, 
 and where, by the light of a few flaring 
 candles stuck round a hoop which 
 hung by a line from the ceiling, it was 
 to be forthwith exhibited. 
 
 And now Mr. Thomas Codlin, the 
 misanthrope, after blowing away at 
 the Pan's pipes until he was intensely 
 wretched, took his statidn on one side 
 of the checked drapery which con- 
 cealed the mover of the figures, and 
 putting his hands in his pockets pre- 
 pared to reply to all questions and 
 remarks of Punch, and to make a 
 dismal feint of being his most intimate 
 private friend, of believing in him to 
 the fullest and most unlimited extent, 
 of knowing that he enjoyed day and 
 night a merry and glorious existence 
 in that temple, and that he was at all 
 times and under every circumstance
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 77 
 
 the same intelligent and joyful person 
 that the spectators then beheld him. 
 All this Mr. Codlin did with the air of 
 a man who had made up his mind for 
 the worst and was quite resigned ; his 
 eye slowly wandering about during 
 the briskest repartee to observe the 
 effect upon the audience, and particu- 
 larly the impression made upon the 
 landlord and landlady, which might be 
 productive of very important results 
 in connexion with the supper. 
 
 Upon this head, however, he had no 
 cause for any anxiety, for the whole 
 performance was applauded to the 
 echo, and voluntary contributions were 
 showered in with a liberality which 
 testified yet more strongly to the 
 general delight Among the laughter 
 none was more loud and frequent than 
 the old man's. Nell's was unheard, 
 for she, poor child, with her head 
 drooping on his shoulder, had fallen 
 asleep, and slept too soundly to be 
 roused by any of his efforts to awaken 
 her to a participation in his glee. 
 
 The supper was very good, but she 
 was too tired to eat, and yet would not 
 leave the old man until she had kissed 
 him in his bed. He, happily insen- 
 sible to every care and anxiety, sat 
 listening with a vacant smile and 
 admiring face to all that his new 
 friends said ; and it was not until they 
 retired yawning to their room, that he 
 followed the child up stairs. 
 
 It was but a loft partitioned into 
 two compartments, where they were 
 to rest, but they were well pleased 
 with their lodging and had hoped for 
 none so good. The old man was 
 uneasy when he had lain down, and 
 begged that Nell would come and sit 
 at his bedside as she had done for so 
 many nights. She hastened to him, 
 and sat them till he slept. 
 
 There was a little window, hardly 
 more than a chink in the wall, in her 
 room, and when she left him, she 
 opened it, quite wondering at the 
 silence. The sight of the old church 
 and the graves about it in the moon- 
 light, and the dark trees whispering 
 among themselves, made her more 
 thoughtful than before. She closed 
 the window again, and sitting down 
 upon the bed, thought of the life that 
 was before them. 
 
 She had a little money, but it was 
 very little, and when that was gone, 
 they must begin to beg. There was 
 one piece of gold among it, and an 
 emergency might come when its worth 
 to them would be increased a hundred 
 fold. It would be best to hide this 
 coin, and never produce it unless their 
 case was absolutely desperate, and no 
 other resource was left them. 
 
 Her resolution taken, she sewed the 
 piece of gold into her dress, and going 
 to bed with a lighter heart sunk into a 
 deep slumber.
 
 78 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ANOTHER bright day shining in 
 through the small casement, and 
 claiming fellowship with the kindred 
 eyes of the child, awoke her. At 
 sight of the strange room and its un- 
 accustomed objects she started up in 
 alarm, wondering how she had been 
 moved from the familiar chamber in 
 which she seemed to have fallen asleep 
 last night, and whither she had been 
 conveyed. But, another glance around 
 called to her mind all that had lately 
 passed, and she sprung from her bed, 
 hoping and trustful. 
 
 It was yet early, and the old man 
 being still asleep, she walked out into 
 the churchyard, brushing the dew from 
 the long grass with her feet, and often 
 turning aside into places where it grew 
 longer than in others, that she might 
 not tread upon the graves. She felt a 
 curious kind of pleasure in lingering 
 among these houses of the dead, and 
 read the inscriptions on the tombs of 
 the good people (a great number of 
 good people were buried there), passing 
 on from one to another with increasing 
 interest. 
 
 It was a very quiet place, as such a 
 place should be, save for the cawing of 
 the rooks who had built their nests 
 among the branches of some tall old 
 trees, and were calling to one another, 
 high up in air. First, one sleek bird, 
 hovering near his ragged house as it 
 swung and dangled in the wind, uttered 
 his hoarse cry, quite by chance as it 
 would seem, and in a sober tone as 
 though he were but talking to himself. 
 Another answered, and he called 
 again, but louder than before ; then 
 another spoke and then another ; and 
 each time the first, aggravated by 
 contradiction, insisted on his case 
 more strongly. Other voices, silent 
 till now, struck in from boughs Blower 
 down and higher up and midway, and 
 to the right and left, and from the 
 tree-tops ; and others, arriving hastily 
 from the grey church turrets and old 
 belfry window, joined the clamour 
 
 which rose and fell, and swelled and 
 dropped again, and still went on ; and 
 all this noisy contention amidst a skim- 
 ming to and fro, and lighting on fresh 
 branches, and frequent change of place, 
 which satirised the old restlessness of 
 those who lay so still beneath the moss 
 and turf below, and the strife in which 
 they had worn away their lives. 
 
 Frequently raising her eyes to the 
 trees whence these sounds came down, 
 and feeling as though they made the 
 place more quiet than perfect silence 
 would have done, the child loitered 
 from grave to grave, now stopping to 
 replace with careful hands the bramble 
 which had started from some green 
 mound it helped to keep in shape, and 
 now peeping through one of the low 
 latticed windows into the church, with 
 its worm-eaten books upon the desks, 
 and baize of whitened-green moulder- 
 ing from the pew sides and leaving the 
 naked wood to view. There were the 
 seats where the poor old people sat, 
 worn spare, and yellow like them- 
 selves ; the rugged font where children 
 had their names, the homely altar 
 where they knelt in after life, the plain 
 black tressels that bore their weight on 
 their last visit to the cool old shady 
 church. Everything told of long use 
 and quiet slow decay ; the very bell- 
 rope in the porch was frayed into a 
 fringe, and hoary with old age. 
 
 She was looking at a humble stone 
 which told of a young man who had 
 died at twenty-three years old, fifty- 
 five years ago, when she heard a 
 faultering step approaching, and look- 
 ing round saw a feeble woman bent 
 with the weight of years, who tottered 
 to the foot of that same grave and 
 asked her to read the writing on the 
 stone. The old woman thanked her 
 when she had done, saying that she 
 had had the words by heart for many 
 a long, long year, but could not see 
 them now. 
 
 " Were you his mother ? " said the 
 child.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 " I was his wife, my dear." 
 
 She the wife of a young man of 
 three-and-twenty ! Ah, true ! It was 
 fifty-five years ago. 
 
 " You wonder to hear me say that," 
 remarked the old woman, shaking her 
 head. " You 're not the first. Older 
 folk than you have wondered at the 
 same thing before now. Yes, I was 
 his wife. Death doesn't change us 
 more than life, my dear." 
 
 "Do you come here often I " asked 
 the child. 
 
 " I sit here very often in the summer 
 time," she answered, " I used to come 
 here once to cry and mourn, but that 
 was a weary while ago, bless God ! " 
 
 " I pluck the daisies as they grow, 
 and take them home," said the old 
 woman after a short silence. " I like 
 no flowers so well as these, and haven't 
 for five-and-fifty years. It's a long 
 time, and I 'm getting very old ! " 
 
 Then growing garrulous upon a 
 theme which was new to one listener 
 though it were but a child, she told 
 her how she had wept and moaned 
 and prayed to die herself, when this 
 happened ; and how when she first 
 came to that place, a young creature 
 strong in love and grief, she had hoped 
 that her heart was breaking as it 
 seemed to be. But that time passed 
 by, and although she continued to be 
 sad when she came there, still she 
 could bear to come, and so went on 
 until it was pain no longer, but a 
 solemn pleasure, and a duty she had 
 learned to like. And now that five- 
 and-fifty years were gone, she spoke of 
 the dead man as if he had been her son 
 or grandson, with a kind of pity for 
 his youth, growing out of her own old 
 age, and an exalting of his strength 
 and manly beauty as compared with 
 her own weakness and decay ; and yet 
 she spoke about him as her husband 
 too, and thinking of herself in con- 
 nexion with him, as she used to be 
 and not as she was now, talked of their 
 meeting in another world as if he were 
 dead but yesterday, and she, separated 
 from her former self, were thinking of 
 the happiness of that comely girl who 
 seemed to have died with him. 
 
 The child left her gathering the 
 flowers that grew upon the grave, and 
 thoughtfully retraced her steps. 
 
 The old man was by this time up 
 and dressed. Mr. Codlin, still doomed 
 to contemplate the harsh realities of 
 existence, was packing among his linen 
 the candle-ends which had been saved 
 from the previous night's performance ; 
 while his companion received the 
 compliments of all the loungers in the 
 stable-yard, who, unable to separate 
 him from the master-mind of Punch, 
 set him down as next in importance to 
 that merry outlaw, and loved him 
 scarcely less. When he had sufficiently 
 acknowledged his popularity he came 
 in to breakfast, at which meal they all 
 sat down together. 4 
 
 " And where are you going to-day ? " 
 said the little man, addressing himself 
 to Nell. 
 
 " Indeed I hardly know, we have 
 not determined yet," replied the 
 child. 
 
 " We 're going on to the races," 
 said the little man. " If that 's your 
 way and you like to have us for com- 
 pany, let us travel together. If you 
 prefer going alone, only say the word 
 and you '11 find that we shan't trouble 
 you." 
 
 " We '11 go with you," said the old 
 man. " Nell, with them, with them." 
 
 The child considered for a moment, 
 and reflecting that she must shortly 
 beg, and could scarcely hope to do so 
 at a better place than where crowds of 
 rich ladies and gentlemen were assem- 
 bled together for purposes of enjoy- 
 ment and festivity, determined to 
 accompany these men so far. She 
 therefore thanked the little man for 
 his offer, and said, glancing timidly 
 towards his friend, that if there was 
 no objection to their accompanying 
 them as far as the race town 
 
 " Objection ! " said the little man. 
 " Now be gracious for once, Tommy, 
 and say that you 'd rather they went 
 with us. I know you would. Be gra- 
 cious, Tommy." 
 
 " Trotters," said Mr. Codlin, who 
 talked very slowly and eat very gree- 
 dily, as is not uncommon with philoso-
 
 80 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 pliers and misanthropes ; " you 're too 
 free." 
 
 " Why, what harm can it do ? " 
 urged the other. 
 
 " No harm at all in this particular 
 case, perhaps," replied Mr. Codlin ; 
 " but the principle 's a dangerous one, 
 and you 're too free I tell you." 
 
 " Well, are they to go with us or 
 not ? " 
 
 " Yes, they are," said Mr. Codlin ; 
 " but you might have made a favour of 
 it, mightn't you ? " 
 
 The real name of the little man was 
 Harris, but it had gradually merged 
 into the less euphonious one of Trot- 
 ters, which, with the prefatory adjec- 
 tive, Short, had been conferred upon 
 him by reason of the small size of his 
 legs. Short Trotters, however, being 
 a compound name, inconvenient of use 
 in friendly dialogue,. the gentleman on 
 whom it had been bestowed was known 
 among his intimates either as " Short," 
 or " trotters," and was seldom ac- 
 costed at full length as Short Trotters, 
 except in formal conversations and on 
 occasions of ceremony. 
 
 Short, then, or Trotters, as the 
 reader pleases, returned unto the re- 
 monstrance of Jiis friend Mr. Thomas 
 Codlin a jocose answer calculated to 
 turn aside his discontent ', and apply- 
 ing himself with great relish to the 
 cold boiled beef, the tea, and bread 
 and butter, strongly impressed upon 
 his companions that they should do 
 the like. Mr. Codlin indeed required 
 no such persuasion, as he had already 
 eat as much as he could possibly carry 
 and was now moistening his clay with 
 strong ale, whereof he took deep 
 draughts with a silent relish and 
 invited nobody to partake, thus again 
 strongly indicating his misanthropical 
 turn of mind. 
 
 Breakfast being at length over, Mr. 
 Codlin called the bill, and charging the 
 ale to the company generally (a prac- 
 tice also savouring of misanthropy) 
 divided the sum-total into two fair and 
 equal parts, assigning one moiety to 
 himself and friend, and the other to 
 Nelly and her grandfather. These 
 being duly discharged and all things 
 
 | ready for their departure, they took 
 farewell of the landlord and landlady 
 and resumed their journey. 
 
 And here Mr. Codlin's false position 
 in society and the effect it wrought 
 upon his wounded spirit, were strongly 
 illustrated ; for whereas he had been 
 last night accosted by Mr. Punch as 
 "master" and had by inference left 
 the audience to understand that he 
 maintained that individual for his own 
 luxurious entertainment and delight, 
 here he was, now, painfully walking 
 beneath the burden of that same 
 Punch's temple, and bearing it bodily 
 upon his shoulders on a sultry day and 
 along a dusty road. In place of en- 
 livening his patron with a constant 
 fire of wit or the cheerful rattle of his 
 quarter-staff on the heads of his rela- 
 tions and acquaintance, here was that 
 beaming Punch utterly devoid of spine, 
 all slack and drooping in a dark box, 
 with his legs doubled up round his 
 neck, and not one of his social qualities 
 remaining. 
 
 Mr. Codlin trudged heavily on, ex- 
 changing a word or two at intervals 
 with Short, and stopping to rest and 
 growl occasionally. Short led the 
 way ; with the flat box, the private 
 luggage (which was not extensive) tied 
 up in a bundle, and a brazen trumpet 
 slung from his shoulder-blade. Nell 
 and her grandfather walked next him 
 on either hand, and Thomas Codlin 
 brought up the rear. 
 
 When they came to any town or 
 village, or even to a detached house of 
 good appearance, Short blew a blast 
 upon the brazen trumpet and carolled 
 a fragment of a song in that hilarious 
 tone common to Punches and their 
 consorts. If people hurried to the 
 windows, Mr. Codlin pitched the tem- 
 ple, and hastily unfurling the drapery 
 and concealing Short therewith, flou- 
 rished hysterically on the Pipes and 
 performed an air. Then the entertain- 
 ment began as soon as might be ; Mr. 
 Codlin having the responsibility of 
 deciding on its length and of protract- 
 ing or expediting the tune for the 
 hero's final triumph over the enemy of 
 mankind, according as he judged that
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 81 
 
 the after-crop of half-pence would be 
 plentiful or scant. When it had been 
 gathered in to the last farthing, he re- 
 sumed his load and on they went again. 
 Sometimes they played out the toll 
 across a bridge or ferry, and once 
 exhibited by particular desire at a 
 turnpike, where the collector, bein 
 drunk in his solitude, paid down a shil- 
 ling to have it to himself. There was 
 one small place of rich promise in 
 which their hopes were blighted, for a 
 favourite character in the play having 
 gold-lace upon his coat and being a 
 meddling wooden-headed fellow was 
 held to be a libel on the beadle, for 
 which reason the authorities enforced 
 a quick retreat ; but they were gene- 
 rally well received, and seldom left a 
 town without a troop of ragged chil- 
 dren shouting at their heels. 
 
 They made a long day's journey, 
 despite these interruptions, and were 
 yet upon the road when the moon was 
 shining in the sky. Short beguiled the 
 time with songs and jests, and made 
 the best of everything that happened. 
 Mr. Codlin on the other hand, cursed 
 his fate, and all the hollow things of 
 earth (but Punch especially), and 
 limped along with the theatre on his 
 back, a prey to the bitterest chagrin. 
 
 They had stopped to rest beneath a 
 finger-post where four roads met, and 
 Mr. Codlin in his deep misanthropy 
 had let down the drapery and seated 
 himself in the bottom of the show, in- 
 visible to mortal eyes and disdainful 
 of the company of his fellow-creatures, 
 when two monstrous shadows were 
 seen stalking towards them from a 
 turning in the road by which they had 
 come. The child was at first quite 
 terrified by the sight of these gaunt 
 giants for such they looked as they 
 advanced with lofty strides beneath 
 the shadow of the trees but Short, 
 telling her there was nothing to fear, 
 blew a blast upon the trumpet, which 
 was answered by a cheerful shout. 
 
 " It 's Grinder's lot, an't it ? " cried 
 Mr. Short in a loud key. 
 
 " Yes," replied a couple of shrill 
 voices. 
 
 " Come on then," said Short. "Let's 
 
 No. 69. 
 
 have a look at you. I thought it was 
 you." 
 
 Thus invited, Grinder's lot " ap- 
 proached with redoubled speed and 
 soon came up with the little party. 
 
 Mr. Grinder's company, familiarly 
 termed a lot, consisted of a young 
 gentleman and a young lady on stilts, 
 and Mr. Grinder himself, who used 
 his natural legs for pedestrian pur- 
 poses and carried at his back a 
 drum. The public costume of the 
 young people was of the Highland 
 kind, but the night being damp and 
 cold, the young gentleman wore over 
 his kilt a man's pea jacket reach- 
 ing to his ancles, and a glazed hat ; 
 the young lady too was muffled in an 
 old cloth pelisse and had a handker- 
 chief tied about her head. Their 
 Scotch bonnets, ornamented with 
 plumes of jet black feathers, Mr. 
 Grinder carried on his instrument. 
 
 " Bound for the races, I see," said 
 Mr. Grinder coming up out of breath. 
 " So are we. How are you, Short 1 " 
 With that they shook hands in a very 
 friendly manner. The young people 
 being too high up for the ordinary 
 salutations, saluted Short after their 
 own fashion. The young gentleman 
 twisted up his right stilt and patted 
 him on the shoulder, and the young 
 lady rattled her tambourine. 
 
 " Practice ? " said Short, pointing 
 to the stilts. 
 
 ' No," returned Grinder. " It comes 
 either to walkin' in 'em or carryin' 
 of 'em, and they like walkin' in 'em 
 best. It 's wery pleasant for the pro- 
 spects. Which road are you takiii ' ? 
 We go the nighest." 
 
 "Why, the fact is," said Short, 
 " that we are going the longest way, 
 because then we could stop for the 
 night, a mile and a half on. But three 
 or four mile gained to-night is so 
 many saved to-morrow, and if you 
 keep on, I think our best way is to do 
 Jie same." 
 
 " Where 's your partner ? " in- 
 quired Grinder. 
 
 " Here he is," cried Mr. Thomas 
 'odlin, presenting his head and face 
 n the proscenium of the stage, and 
 
 G 6
 
 82 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 exhibiting an expression of counte- 
 hance not often seen there ; " and 
 ne'll see his partner boiled alive be- 
 fore he '11 go on to-night. That 's what 
 he says." 
 
 " Well, don't say such things as 
 them, in a spear which is dewoted to 
 something pleasanter," urged Short. 
 " Respect associations Tommy, even 
 if you do cut up rough." 
 
 " Rough or smooth," said Mr. Cod- 
 lin, beating his hand on the little foot- 
 board, where Punch, when suddenly 
 struck with the symmetry of his legs 
 and their capacity for silk stockings, 
 is accustomed to exhibit them to popu- 
 lar admiration, "rough or smooth, I 
 won't go further than the mile and a 
 half to-night. I put up at the Jolly 
 Sandboys and nowhere else. If you 
 like to come there, come there. If 
 you like to go on by yourself, go on 
 by yourself, and do without me if you 
 can." 
 
 So saying, Mr. Codlin disappeared 
 
 from the scene and immediately pre- 
 senting himself outside the theatre, 
 took it on his shoulders at a jerk, and 
 made off with most remarkable agility. 
 Any further controversy being now 
 out of the question, Short was fain to 
 part with Mr. Grinder and his pupils 
 and to follow his morose companion. 
 After lingering at the finger-post for 
 a few minutes to see the stilts frisking 
 away in the moonlight and the bearer 
 of the drum toiling slowly after them, 
 he blew a few notes upon the trumpet 
 as a parting salute, and hastened with 
 all speed to follow Mr. Codlin. With 
 this view he gave his unoccupied hand 
 to Nell, and bidding her be of good 
 cheer as they would soon be at the end 
 of their journey for that night, and 
 stimulating the old man with a similar 
 assurance, led them at a pretty swift 
 pace towards their destination, which 
 he was the less unwilling to make for, 
 as the moon was now overcast and the 
 clouds were threatening ram. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE Jolly Sandboys was a small 
 road-side inn of pretty ancient date, 
 with a sign, representing three Sand- 
 boys increasing their jollity with as 
 many jugs of ale and bags of gold, 
 creaking and swinging on its post on 
 the opposite side of the road. As the 
 travellers had observed that day many 
 indications of their drawing nearer 
 and nearer to the race town, such as 
 gipsy camps, carts laden with gambling 
 booths and their appurtenances, itine- 
 rant showmen 'of various kinds, and 
 beggars and trampers of every degree, 
 all wending their way in the same 
 direction, Mr. Codlin was fearful of find- 
 ing the accommodations forestalled ; 
 this fear increasing as he diminished 
 the distance between himself and the 
 hostelry, he quickened his pace, and 
 notwithstanding the burden he had to 
 carry, maintained a round trot until | 
 
 he reached the threshold. Here he 
 had the gratification of finding that his 
 fears were without foundation, for the 
 landlord was leaning against the door- 
 post looking lazily at the rain, which 
 had by this time begun to descend 
 heavily, and no tinkling of cracked 
 bell, nor boisterous shout, nor noisy 
 chorus, gave note of company withia. 
 
 " All alone ? " said Mr. Codlin, 
 putting down his burden and wiping 
 his forehead. 
 
 " All alone as yet," rejoined the 
 landlord, glancing at the sky, "but we 
 shall have more company to-night I 
 expect. Here one of you boys, cjvrry 
 that show into the barn. Mako haste 
 in out of the wet, Tom ; when it came 
 on to rain I told 'em to make the fire 
 up, and there 's a glorious blaze in the 
 kitchen I can tell you." 
 
 Mr. Codlin followed with a willing
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 83 
 
 mind, and soon found that the landlord 
 had not commended his preparations 
 without good reason . A mighty fire was 
 blazing on the hearth and roaring up 
 the wide chimney with a cheerful 
 sound, which a large iron cauldron, 
 bubbling and simmering in the heat, 
 lent its pleasant aid to swell. There 
 was a deep red ruddy blush upon the 
 room, and when the landlord stirred 
 the tire, sending the flames skipping 
 and leaping up when he took off the 
 lid of the iron pot and there rushed 
 out a savoury smell, while the bubbling 
 sound grew deeper and more rich, and 
 an unctuous steam came floating out, 
 hanging in a delicious mist above their 
 heads when he did this, Mr. Codlin's 
 heart was touched. He sat down in 
 the chimney-corner and smiled. 
 
 Mr. Codlin sat smiling in the chim- 
 ney-corner, eyeing the landlord as 
 with a roguish look he held the cover 
 in his hand, and, feigning that his 
 doing so was needful to the welfare of 
 the cookery, suffered the delightful 
 steam to tickle the nostrils of his 
 guest. The glow of the fire was upon 
 the landlord's bald head, and upon his 
 twinkling eye, and upon his watering 
 mouth, and upon his pimpled face, and 
 upon his round fat figure. Mr. Codlin 
 drew his sleeve across his lips, and said 
 in a murmuring voice," What is it ? " 
 
 " It 's a stew of tripe," said the 
 landlord smacking his lips, " and cow- j 
 heel," smacking them again, " and I 
 bacon," smacking them once more, | 
 "and steak," smacking them for the i 
 fourth time, " and peas., cauliflowers, j 
 new potatoes, and sparrow-grass, all j 
 working up together in one delicious 
 gravy." Having come to the climax, 
 he smacked his lips a great many 
 times, and taking a long hearty sniff 
 of the fragrance that was hovering 
 about, put on the cover again with the 
 air of one whose toils on earth were 
 over. 
 
 At what time will it be ready " 
 asked Mr. Codlin faintly. 
 
 "It'll be done to a turn," said the 
 landlord looking up at the clock and 
 the very clock had a colour in its fat 
 white face, and looked a clock for Joliy 
 
 Sandboys to consult " it'll be done to 
 a turn at twenty-two minutes before 
 ' eleven." 
 
 "Then," said Mr. Codlin, "fetch 
 me a pint of warm ale, and don't let 
 nobody bring into the room even so 
 much as a biscuit till the time arrives." 
 
 Nodding his approval of this deci- 
 sive and manly course of procedure, 
 the landlord retired to draw the beer, 
 and presently returning with it, applied 
 himself to warm the same in a small 
 tin vessel shaped funnel-wise, for the 
 convenience of sticking it far down in 
 the fire and getting at the bright places. 
 This was soon done, and he 'handed it 
 over to Mr. Codlin with that creamy 
 froth upon the surface which is one of 
 the happy circumstances attendant 
 on mulled malt. 
 
 Greatly softened by this soothing 
 beverage, Mr. Codlin now bethought 
 him of his companions, and acquainted 
 mine host of the Sandboys that their 
 arrival might be shortly looked for. 
 The rain was. rattling against the 
 windows and pouring down in torrents, 
 and such was Mr. Codlin's extreme 
 amiability of mind, that he more than 
 once expressed his earnest hope that 
 they would not be so foolish as to get 
 wet 
 
 At length they arrived, drenched 
 with the rain and presenting a most 
 miserable appearance, notwithstanding 
 that Short had sheltered the child as 
 well as he could under the skirts of 
 his own coat, and they were nearly 
 breathless from the haste they had 
 made. But their steps were no sooner 
 heard upon the road than the landlord, 
 who had been at the outer door 
 anxiously watching for their coming, 
 rushed into the kitchen and took the 
 cover off. The effect was electrical. 
 They all came in with smiling faces 
 though the wet was dripping from their 
 clothes upon the floor, and Short's 
 first remark was, "What a delicious 
 smell ! " 
 
 It is not very difficult to forget rain 
 and mud by the side of a cheerful fire, 
 and in a bright room. They were 
 furnished with slippers and such dry 
 garments as the house or their own \
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 bundles afforded, and ensconcing them- 
 selves, as Mr. Codlin had already done, 
 in the warm chimney-corner, soon 
 forgot their late troubles or only 
 remembered them as enhancing the 
 delights of the present time. Over- 
 powered by the warmth and comfort 
 and the fatigue they had undergone, 
 Nelly and the old man had not long 
 taken their seats here, when they fell 
 
 " Who are they ? " whispered the 
 landlord. 
 
 Short shook his head, and wished he 
 knew himself. 
 
 " Don't you know ? " asked the host, 
 turning to Mr. Codlin. 
 
 " Not I," he replied. " They 're no 
 good, 1 suppose." 
 
 " They 're no harm," said Short. 
 " Depend upon that. I tell you what 
 it's plain that the old man an't in 
 his right mind " 
 
 " If you haven't got anything newer 
 than that to say," growled Mr. Codlin, 
 glancing at the clock, " you 'd better 
 let us fix our minds upon the supper, 
 and not disturb us." 
 
 " Hear me out, wont you ? " retorted 
 his friend. " It 's very plain to me, 
 besides, that they 're not used to this 
 way of life. Don't tell me that that 
 handsome child has been in the habit 
 of prowling about as she's done these 
 last two or three days. I know better." 
 
 " Well, who does tell you she has ? " 
 growled Mr. Codlin, again glancing at 
 the clock and from it to the cauldron, 
 " can't you think of anything more 
 suitable to present circumstances than 
 saying things and then contradicting 
 'em ? " 
 
 "I wish somebody would give you 
 your supper," returned Short, " for 
 there '11 be no peace till you 've got it. 
 Have you seen how anxious the old 
 man is to get on always wanting to 
 be f'urder away furder away. Have 
 you seen that ? " 
 
 " Ah ! what then ?" muttered Thomas 
 Codlin. 
 
 " This, then, " said Short. " He has 
 given his friends the slip. Mind what 
 I say, he has given his friends the 
 slip, and persuaded this delicate young 
 
 creetur all along of her fondness for 
 him to be his guide and travelling com- 
 panion where to, he knows no more 
 than the man in the moon. Now I 'm 
 not a going to stand that." 
 
 " You 're not a going to stand that ! " 
 cried Mr. Codlin, glancing at the clock 
 again and pulling his hair with both 
 hands in a kind of frenzy, but whether 
 occasioned by his companion's obser- 
 vation or the tardy pace of Time, it 
 was difficult to determine. " Here 's a 
 world to live in ! " 
 
 "I," repeated Short emphatically 
 and slowly, " am not a-going to stand 
 it. I am not a-going to see this fair 
 young child a falling into bad hands, 
 and getting among people that she's 
 no more fit for, than they are to get 
 among angels as their ordinary chums. 
 Therefore when they dewelope an in- 
 tention of parting company from us, I 
 shall take measures for detaining of 
 'em, and restoring 'em to their friends, 
 who I dare say have had their discon- 
 solation pasted up on every wall in 
 London by this time." 
 
 " Short," said Mr. Codlin, who with 
 his head upon his hands and his elbows 
 on his knees had been shaking himself 
 impatiently from side to side up to this 
 point and occasionally stamping on the 
 ground, but who now looked up with 
 eager eyes ; " it 's possible that there 
 may be uncommon good sense in what 
 you 've said. If there is, and there 
 should be a reward, Short, remember 
 that we 're partners in everything ! " 
 
 His companion had only time to nod 
 a brief assent to this position, for the 
 child awoke at the instant. They had 
 drawn close together during the pre- 
 vious whispering, and now hastily 
 separated and were rather awkwardly 
 endeavouring to exchange some casual 
 remarks in their usual tone, when 
 strange footsteps were heard without, 
 and fresh company entered. 
 
 These were no other than four very 
 dismal (logs, who came pattering in one 
 after the other, headed by an old bandy 
 dog of particularly mournful aspect, 
 who, stopping when the last of his fol- 
 lowers had got as far as the door, 
 erected himself upon his hind legs and
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 85 
 
 looked round at his companions, who 
 immediately stood upon their hind legs, 
 in a grave and melancholy row. Nor 
 was this the only remarkable circum- 
 stance about these dogs, for each of 
 them wore a kind of little coat of some 
 gaudy colour trimmed with tarnished 
 spangles, and one of them had a cap 
 upon his head, tied very carefully 
 under his chin, which had fallen down 
 upon his nose and completely obscured 
 one eye ; add to this, that the gaudy 
 coats were all wet through and dis- 
 coloured with rain, and that the 
 wearers were splashed and dirty, and 
 some idea may be formed of the un- 
 usual appearance of these new visitors 
 to the Jolly Sandboys. 
 
 Neither Short nor the landlord nor 
 Thomas Codlin, however, were the 
 least surprised, merely remarking that 
 these were Jerry's dogs and that Jerry 
 could not be far behind. So there the 
 dogs stood, patiently winking and 
 gaping and looking extremely hard at 
 the boiling pot, until Jerry himself 
 appeared, when they all dropped down 
 at once and walked about the room in 
 their natural manner. This posture 
 it must be confessed did not much 
 improve their appearance, as their 
 own personal tails and their coat tails 
 both capital things in their way 
 did not agree together. 
 
 Jerry, the manager of these dancing 
 dogs, was a tall black-whiskered man 
 in a velveteen coat, who seemed 
 well known to the landlord and his 
 guests and accosted them with great 
 cordiality. Disencumbering himself 
 of a barrel organ which he placed 
 upon a chair, and retaining in his hand 
 a small whip wherewith to awe his 
 company of comedians, he came up to 
 the fire to dry himself, and entered 
 into conversation. 
 
 " Your people don't usually travel 
 in character, do they ? " said Short, 
 pointing to the dresses of the dogs. 
 " It must come expensive if they do ? " 
 
 " No," replied Jerry, " no, it 's 
 not the custom with us. But we 've 
 been playing a little on the road to- 
 day, and we come out with a new 
 wardrobe at the races, so I didn't 
 
 think it worth while to stop to undress. 
 Down, Pedro ! " 
 
 This was addressed to the dog with 
 the cap on, who being a new member 
 of the company and not quite certain 
 of his duty, kept his unobscured eye 
 anxiously on his master, and was per- 
 petually starting upon his hind legs 
 when there was no occasion, and falling 
 down again. 
 
 " I 've got a animal here," said 
 Jerry, putting his hand into the capa- 
 cious pocket of his coat, and diving 
 into one corner as if he were feeling 
 for a small orange or an apple or some 
 such article, "a animal here, wot I 
 think you know something of, Short ! " 
 
 " Ah ! " cried Short, " let 's have a 
 look at him." 
 
 " Here he is " said Jerry, producing 
 a little terrier from his pocket. " He 
 was once a Toby of yours, warn't he ? " 
 
 In some versions of the great drama 
 of Punch there is a small dog a 
 modern innovation supposed to be 
 the private property of that gentleman, 
 whose name is always Toby. This 
 Toby has been stolen in youth from 
 another gentleman, and fraudulently 
 sold to the confiding hero, who having 
 no guile himself has no suspicion that 
 it lurks in others ; but Toby, entertain- 
 ing a grateful recollection of his old 
 master, and scorning to attach himself 
 to any new patronSj not only refuses 
 to smoke a pipe at the bidding of 
 Punch, but to mark his old fidelity 
 more strongly, seizes him by the nose 
 and wrings the same with violence, at 
 which instance of canine attachment 
 the spectators are deeply affected. This 
 was the character which the little 
 terrier in question had once sustained; 
 if there had been any doubt upon the 
 subject he would speedily have resolved 
 it by his conduct ; for not only did he, 
 on seeing Short, give the strongest 
 tokens of recognition, but catching 
 sight of the flat-box he barked so 
 furiously at the pasteboard nose which 
 he knew was inside, that his master 
 was obliged to gather him up and put 
 him into his pocket again, to the great 
 relief of the whole company. 
 
 The landlord now busied himself in
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 laying the cloth, in which process 
 Mr. Codlin obligingly assisted by set- 
 ting forth his own knife and fork in the 
 most convenient place and establishing 
 himself behind them. When every- 
 thing was ready, the landlord took off 
 the cover for the last time, and then 
 indeed there burst forth such a goodly 
 promise of supper, that if he had 
 offered to put it on again or had hinted 
 at postponement, he would certainly 
 have been sacrificed on his own 
 hearth. 
 
 However, he did nothing of the 
 kind, but instead thereof assisted a 
 stout servant girl in turning the con- 
 tents of the cauldron into a large 
 tureen ; a proceeding which the dogs, 
 proof against various hot splashes 
 which fell upon their noses, watched 
 with terrible eagerness. At length the 
 dish was lifted on the table, and mugs 
 of ale having been previously set round, 
 little Nell ventured to say grace, and 
 supper began. 
 
 At this juncture the poor dogs were 
 standing on their hind legs quite 
 surprisingly ; the child, having pity on 
 them, was about to cast some morsels 
 of food to them before she tasted it 
 herself, hungry though she was, when 
 their master interposed. 
 
 " No my dear, no, not an atom from 
 anybody's hand but mine if you please. 
 That dog," said Jerry, pointing out the 
 old leader of the troop, and speaking 
 in a terrible voice, " lost a halfpenny 
 to-day. He goes without his supper." 
 
 The unfortunate creature dropped 
 
 upon his fore-legs directly, wagged his 
 tail, and looked imploringly at his 
 master. 
 
 " You must be more careful Sir " 
 said Jerry, walking coolly to the chair 
 where he had placed the organ, and 
 setting the stop. " Come here. Now 
 Sir, you play away at that, while we 
 have supper, and leave off if you 
 dare." 
 
 The dog immediately began to grind 
 most mournful music. His master 
 having shown him the whip resumed 
 his seat and called up the others, who, 
 at his directions, formed in a row, 
 standing upright as a file of soldiers. 
 
 " Now gentlemen " said Jerry, look- 
 ing at them attentively. " The dog 
 whose name 's called, eats. The dogs 
 whose names an't called, keep quiet. 
 Carlo !" 
 
 The lucky individual whose name 
 was called, snapped up the morsel 
 thrown towards him, but none of the 
 others moved a muscle. In this 
 manner they were fed at the discretion 
 of their master. Meanwhile the dog 
 in disgrace ground hard at the organ, 
 sometimes in quick time, sometimes in 
 slow, but never leaving off for an 
 instant. When the knives and forks 
 rattled very much, or any of his fellows 
 got an unusually large piece of fat, he 
 accompanied the music with a short 
 howl, but he immediately checked it 
 on his master looking round, and 
 applied himself with increased diligence 
 to the Old Hundredth.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 87 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 SUPPER, was not yet over, when j streets," said Mr. Vuffin. " Once 
 
 there arrived at the Jolly Sandboys 
 two more travellers bound for the 
 same haven as the rest, who had been 
 
 make a giant common and giants will 
 never draw again. Look at wooden 
 legs. If there was only one man with 
 
 walking in the rain for some hours, ] a wooden leg what a property he 'd 
 and came in shining and heavy with 
 water. One of these was the pro- 
 prietor of a giant, and a little lady 
 without legs or arms, who had jogged 
 forward in a van ; the other, a silent 
 geHtleman who earned his living by 
 showing tricks upon the cards, and 
 who had rather deranged the natural 
 expression of his countenance by 
 putting small leaden lozenges into his 
 eyes and bringing them out at his 
 mouth, which was one of his profes- 
 sional accomplishments. The name of 
 the first of these new-comers was 
 Vuffin ; the other, probably as a plea- 
 sant satire upon his ugliness, was 
 called Sweet William. To render 
 them as comfortable as he could, the 
 landlord bestirred himself nimbly, and 
 in a very short time both gentlemen 
 were perfectly at their ease. 
 
 "How's the Giant?" said Short, 
 when they all sat smoking round the 
 
 fire. 
 
 " Rather weak upon his legs," re- 
 turned Mr. Vuffin. " I begin to be 
 afraid he 's going at the knees." 
 
 " That 's a bad look-out," said Short. 
 
 "Aye ! Bad indeed," replied Mr. 
 Vuffin, contemplating the fire with a 
 sigh. " Once get a giant shaky on his 
 legs, and the public care no more 
 about him than they do for a dead 
 cabbage stalk." 
 
 " What becomes of the old giants 1" 
 
 be! ! 
 
 " So he would ! " observed the land- 
 lord and Short both together. That 's 
 very true." 
 
 "Instead of which," pursued Mr. 
 Vuffin, " if you was to advertise Shak- 
 speare played entirely by wooden legs, 
 it's my belief you wouldn't draw a 
 sixpence." 
 
 " I don't suppose you would," said 
 Short. And the landlord said so too. 
 
 "This shows you see," said Mr. 
 Vuffin, waving his pipe with an argu- 
 mentative air, " this shows the policy 
 of keeping the used-up giants still in, 
 the carawans, where they get food and 
 lodging for nothing, all their lives, and 
 in general very glad they are to stop 
 there. There was one giant a black 
 'un as left his carawan some year 
 ago and took to carrying coach-bills 
 about London, making himself as 
 cheap as crossing-sweepers. He died. 
 I make no insinuation against anybody 
 in particular," said Mr. Vuffin looking 
 solemnly round, " but he was ruining 
 the trade ; and he died." 
 
 The landlord drew his breath hard, 
 and looked at the owner of the dogs, 
 who nodded and said gruffly that he 
 remembered. 
 
 " I know you do, Jerry," said Mr. 
 Vuffin with profound meaning. " I 
 know you remember it Jerry, and the 
 universal opinion was, that it served 
 
 said Short, turning to him again after I him right. Why, I remember the 
 a little reflection. i time when old Maunders as had three- 
 
 " They 're usually kept in carawans j and-twenty wans I remember the 
 to wait upon the dwarfs," said Mr. j time when old Maunders had in his 
 Vuffin. I cottage in Spa Fields in the winter 
 
 " The maintaining of 'em must come i time when the season was over, eight 
 expensive, when they can't be shown, j male and female dwarfs setting down 
 eh ! " remarked Short, eyeing him j to dinner every day, who was waited 
 doubtfully. j on by eight old giants in green coats, 
 
 " It 'a better that, than letting 'em red smalls, blue cotton stockings, and 
 go upon the parish or about the hiph-lows : and there was one dwarf
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 as had grown elderly and wicious who 
 whenever his giant wasn't quick 
 enough to please him, used to stick 
 pins in his legs, not being able to reach 
 up any higher. I know that 's a fact, 
 for Maunders told it me himself." 
 
 " What about the dwarfs, when they 
 get old ? " inquired the landlord. 
 
 " The older a dwarf is, the better 
 worth he is," returned Mr. Vuffin ; 
 " a grey-headed dwarf, well wrinkled, 
 is beyond all suspicion. But a giant 
 weak in the legs and not standing 
 upright ! keep him in the carawan, 
 but never show him, never show 
 him, for any persuasion that can be 
 offered." 
 
 While Mr. Vuffin and his two friends 
 smoked their pipes and beguiled the 
 time with such conversation as this, 
 the silent gentleman sat in a warm 
 corner, swallowing, or seeming to 
 swallow, sixpennyworth of halfpence 
 for practice, balancing a feather upon 
 his nose, and rehearsing other feats of 
 dexterity of that kind, without paying 
 any regard whatever to the company, 
 who in their turn left him utterly un- 
 noticed. At length the weary child 
 prevailed upon her grandfather to re- 
 tire, and they withdrew, leaving the 
 company yet seated round the fire, 
 and the dogs fast asleep at a humble 
 distance. 
 
 After bidding the old man good 
 night, Nell retired to her poor garret, 
 but had scarcely closed the door, when 
 it was gently tapped at. She opened 
 it directly, and was a little startled by 
 the sight of Mr. Thomas Codlin, whom 
 she had left, to all appearance, fast 
 asleep down stairs. 
 
 " What is the matter I " said the 
 child. 
 
 "Nothing's the matter, my dear," 
 returned her visitor. " I 'm your friend. 
 Perhaps you haven't thought so, but 
 it 's me that 's your friend not him." 
 
 " Not who ?" the child inquired. 
 
 " Short, my dear. I tell you what " 
 said Codlin, " for all his having a kind 
 of way with him that you'd be very 
 apt to like, I 'in the real, open-hearted 
 man. I mayn't look it but I am 
 indeed." 
 
 The child began to be alarmed, con- 
 sidering that the ale had taken effect 
 upon Mr. Codlin, and that this com- 
 mendation, of himself \vas the conse- 
 quence. 
 
 " Short 's very well and seems kind " 
 resumed the misanthrope, " but he 
 overdoes it. Now I don't." 
 
 Certainly if there were any fault in 
 Mr. Codlin's usual deportment, it was 
 that he rather underdid his kindness 
 to those about him, than overdid it. 
 But the child was puzzled and could 
 not tell what to say. 
 
 " Take my advice," said Codlin ; 
 " don't ask me why, but take it. As 
 long as you travel with us, keep as 
 near me as you can. Don't offer to 
 leave us not on any account but 
 always stick to me and say that I'm 
 your friend. Will you bear that in 
 mind my dear, and always say that it 
 was me that was your friend ?" 
 
 " Say so where, and when \ " in- 
 quired the child innocently. 
 
 " 0, nowhere in particular" replied 
 Codlin, a little put out as it seemed by 
 the question ; " I 'm only anxious that 
 you should think me so, and do me 
 justice. You can't think what an in- 
 terest I have in you. Why didn't you 
 tell me your little history that about 
 you and the poor old gentleman \ I 'm 
 the best adviser that ever was, and so 
 interested in you so much more in- 
 terested than Short. I think they 're 
 breaking up down stairs ; you needn't 
 tell Short, you know, that we've had 
 this little talk together. God bless 
 you. Recollect the friend. Codlin's 
 the friend, not Short. Short's very 
 well as far as he goes, but the real 
 friend is Codlin not Short." 
 
 Eking out these professions with a 
 number of benevolent and protecting 
 looks and great fervour of manner, 
 Thomas Codlin stole away on tiptoe, 
 leaving the child in a state of extreme 
 surprise. She was still ruminating 
 upon his curious behaviour, when the 
 floor of the crazy stairs and landing 
 cracked beneath the tread of the other 
 travellers who were passing to their 
 beds. When they had all passed, and 
 the sound of then? footsteps had died
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 89 
 
 away, one of them returned, and after 
 a little hesitation and rustling in the 
 passage, as if he were doubtful what 
 door to knock at, knocked at hers. 
 
 " Yes ? " said the child from within. 
 
 "It's me Short" a voice called 
 through the keyhole. " I only wanted 
 to say that we must be off early to- 
 morrow morning my dear, because 
 unless we get the start of the dogs and 
 the conjuror, the villages won't be 
 worth a penny. You '11 be sure to be 
 stirring early and go with us ? I'll call 
 you." 
 
 The child answered in the affirma- 
 tive, and returning his " good night " 
 heard him creep away. She felt some 
 uneasiness at the anxiety of these men, 
 increased by the recollection of their 
 whispering together down stairs and 
 their slight confusion when she awoke, 
 nor was she quite free from a misgiving 
 that they were not the fittest companions 
 she could have stumbled on. Her un- 
 easiness, however, was nothing, weighed 
 against her fatigue ; and she soon forgot 
 it in sleep. 
 
 Very early next morning, Short ful- 
 filled his promise, and knocking softly 
 at her door entreated that she would 
 get up directly, as the proprietor of 
 the dogs was still snoring, and if they 
 lost no time they might get a good deal 
 in advance both of him and the con- 
 juror, who was talking in his sleep, and 
 from what he could be heard to say, 
 appeared to be balancing a donkey in 
 his dreams. She started from her bed 
 without delay, and roused the old man 
 with so much expedition that they 
 were both ready as soon as Short him- 
 self, to that gentleman's unspeakable 
 gratification and relief. 
 
 After a very unceremonious and 
 scrambling breakfast of which the 
 staple commodities were bacon and 
 bread, and beer, they took leave of the 
 landlord and issued from the door of 
 the Jolly Sandboys. The morning was 
 fine and warm, the ground cool to the 
 feet after the late rain, the hedges 
 gayer and more green, the air clear, 
 and everything fresh and healthful. 
 Surrounded by these influences, they 
 walked on pleasantly enough. 
 
 They had not gone very far, when 
 the child was again struck by the 
 altered behaviour of Mr. Thomas Cod- 
 lin, who instead of plodding on sulkily 
 by himself as he had theretofore done, 
 kept close to her, and when he had an 
 opportunity of looking at her unseen 
 by his companion, warned her by cer- 
 tain wry faces and jerks of the head 
 not to put any trust in Short, but to 
 reserve all confidences for Codlin. 
 Neither did he confine himself to looks 
 and gestures, for when she and her 
 grandfather were walking on beside 
 the aforesaid Short, and that little 
 man was talking with his accustomed 
 cheerfulness on a variety of indifferent 
 subjects, Thomas Codlin testified his 
 jealousy and distrust by following 
 close at her heels, and occasionally ad- 
 monishing her ancles with the legs of 
 the theatre in a very abrupt and pain- 
 ful manner. 
 
 All these proceedings naturally made 
 the child more watchful and suspicious, 
 and she soon observed that whenever 
 they halted to perform outside a vil- 
 lage alehouse or other place, Mr. 
 Codlin while he went through his 
 share of the entertainments kept his 
 eye steadily upon her and the old 
 man, or with a show of great friend- 
 ship and consideration invited the lat- 
 ter to lean upon his arm, and so held 
 him tight until the representation was 
 over and they again went forward. 
 Even Short seemed to change in this 
 respect, and to mingle with his good- 
 nature something of a desire to keep 
 them in safe custody. This increased 
 the child's misgivings, and made her 
 yet more anxious and uneasy. 
 
 Meanwhile, they were drawing near 
 the town where the races were to be- 
 gin next day ; for, from passing nume- 
 rous groups of gipsies and trampers 
 on the road, wending their way to- 
 wards it, and straggling out from 
 every by-way and cross-country lane, 
 they gradually fell into a stream of 
 people, some walking by the side of 
 covered carts, others with horses, 
 others witli donkeys, others toiling on 
 with heavy loads upon their backs, 
 but all tending to the same point.
 
 90 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 The public-houses by the way-side, 
 from being empty and noiseless as 
 those in the remoter parts had been, 
 now sent out boisterous shouts and 
 clouds of smoke ; and, from the misty 
 windows, clusters of broad red faces 
 looked down upon the road. On every 
 piece of waste or common ground, 
 some small gambler drove his noisy 
 trade, and bellowed to the idle passers- 
 by to stop and try their chance ; the 
 crowd grew thicker and more noisy ; 
 gilt gingerbread hi blanket-stalls ex- 
 posed its glories to the dust ; and 
 often a four-horse carriage, dashing 
 by, obscured all objects in the gritty 
 cloud it raised, and left them, stunned 
 and blinded, far behind. 
 
 It was dark before they reached 
 the town itself, and long indeed the 
 few last miles had been. Here all was 
 tumult and confusion ; the streets were 
 filled with throngs of people many 
 Strangers were there, it seemed, by 
 the looks they cast about the church- 
 bells rang out their noisy peals, and 
 flags streamed from windows and 
 house-topa. In the large inn-yards 
 waiters flitted to and fro and ran 
 against each other, horses clattered 
 on the uneven stones, carriage steps 
 fell rattling down, and sickening smells 
 from many dinners came in a heavy 
 lukewarm breath upon the sense. In 
 the smaller public-houses, fiddles with 
 all their might and main were squeak- 
 ing out the tune to staggering feet ; 
 drunken men, oblivious of the burden 
 of their song, joined in a senseless 
 howl, which drowned the tinkling of 
 the feeble bell and made them savage 
 for their drink ; vagabond groups as- 
 sembled round the doors to see the 
 stroller woman dance, and add their 
 uproar to the shrill flageolet and 
 deafening drum. 
 
 Through this delirious scene, the 
 child, frightened and repelled by all 
 she saw, led on her bewildered charge, 
 clinging close to her conductor, and 
 trembling lest in the press she should 
 be separated from him and left to find 
 her way alone. Quickening their steps 
 to get clear of all the roar and riot, 
 they at length passed through the 
 
 town and made for the race-course, 
 which was upon an open heath, situ- 
 ated on an eminence, a full mile dis- 
 tant from its furthest bounds. 
 
 Although there were many people 
 here, none of the best favoured or best 
 clad, busily erecting tents and driving 
 stakes into the ground, and hurrying 
 to and fro with dusty feet and many a 
 grumbled oath although there were 
 tired children cradled on heaps of 
 straw between the wheels of carts, 
 crying themselves to sleep and poor 
 lean horses and donkeys just turned 
 loose, grazing among the men and 
 women, and pots and kettles, and half- 
 lighted fires, and ends of candles flar- 
 ing and wasting in the air for all 
 this, the child felt it an escape from 
 the town and drew her breath more 
 freely. After a scanty supper, the 
 purchase of which reduced her little 
 stock so low, that she had only a few 
 halfpence with which to buy a break- 
 fast on the morrow, she and the old 
 man lay down to rest in a corner of a 
 tent, and slept, despite the busy pre- 
 parations that were going on around 
 them all night long. 
 
 And now they had come to the 
 time when they must beg their bread. 
 Soon after sunrise in the morning she 
 stole out from the tent, and rambling 
 into some fields at a short distance, 
 plucked a few wild roses and such 
 humble flowers, purposing to make 
 them into little nosegays and offer 
 them to the ladies in the carriages 
 when the company arrived. Her 
 thoughts were not idle while she was 
 thus employed ; when she returned 
 and was seated beside the old man in 
 one corner of the tent, tying her 
 flowers together, while the two men 
 lay dozing in another corner, she 
 plucked him by the sleeve, and 
 slightly glancing towards them, said 
 in a low voice 
 
 Grandfather, don't look at those I 
 talk of, and don't seem as if I spoke of 
 anything but what I am about. What 
 was that, you told me before we left 
 the old house ? That if they knew 
 what we were going to do, they would 
 say that you were mad, and part us V
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 The old man turned to her with an 
 aspect of wild terror ; but she checked 
 him by a look, and bidding him hold 
 some flowers while she tied them up, 
 and so bringing her lips closer to his 
 ear, said 
 
 " I know that was what you told 
 me. You needn't speak, dear. I 
 recollect it very well. It was not 
 likely that I should forget it. Grand- 
 father, these men suspect that we 
 have secretly left our friends, and 
 mean to carry us before some gentle- 
 man and have us taken care of and 
 sent back. If you let your hand trem- 
 ble so, we can never get away from 
 them, but if you 're only quiet now, 
 we shall do so, easily." 
 
 " How ? " muttered the old man. 
 Dear Nelly, how ? They will shut 
 me up in a stone room, dark and cold, 
 and chain me up to the wall, Nell 
 flog me with whips, and never let me 
 see thee more ! " 
 
 " You 're trembling again," said the 
 child. " Keep close to me all day. 
 Never mind them, don't look at them, 
 but me. I shall find a time when we 
 can steal away. When I do, mind 
 you come with me, and do not stop or 
 speak a word. Hush ! That 's all." 
 
 " Halloa ! what are you up to, my 
 dear ? " said Mr. Codlin, raising his 
 head, and yawning. Then observing 
 that his companion was fast asleep, he 
 added in an earnest whisper, " Codlin 's 
 the friend, remember not Short." 
 
 " Making some nosegays," the child 
 replied ; " I am going to try and sell 
 some, these three days of the races. 
 Will you have one as a present I 
 mean I " 
 
 Mr. Codlin would have risen to 
 receive it, but the child hurried towards 
 him and placed it in his hand. He 
 stuck it in his button-hole with an air 
 of ineffable complacency for a misan- 
 thrope, and leering exultingly at the 
 unconscious Short, muttered, as he laid 
 himself down again, " Tom Codlin 's 
 the friend by G ! " 
 
 As the morning wore on, the tents 
 assumed a gayer and more brilliant 
 appearance, and long lines of carriages 
 came rolling softly on the turf. Men 
 
 who had lounged about all night in 
 smock-frocks and leather leggings, 
 came out in silken vests and hats and 
 plumes, as jugglers or mountebanks ; 
 or in gorgeous liveries as soft-spoken 
 servants at gambling booths ; or in 
 sturdy yeoman dress as decoys at un- 
 lawful games. Black-eyed gipsy girls, 
 hooded in showy handkerchiefs, sallied 
 forth to tell fortunes, and pale slender 
 women with consumptive faces lingered 
 upon the footsteps of ventriloquists and 
 conjurors, and counted the sixpences 
 with anxious eyes long before they 
 were gained. As many of the children 
 as could be kept within bounds, were 
 stowed away, with all the other signs 
 of dirt and poverty, among the don- 
 keys, carts, and horses ; and as many 
 as could not be thus disposed of ran in 
 and out in all intricate spots, crept 
 between people's legs and carriage 
 wheels, and came forth unharmed from 
 under horses' hoofs. The dancing- 
 dogs, the stilts, the little lady and the 
 tall man, and all the other attractions, 
 with organs out of number and bands 
 innumerable, emerged from the holes 
 and corners in which they had passed 
 the night, and flourished boldly in the 
 sun. 
 
 Along the uncleared course, Short 
 led his party, sounding the brazen 
 trumpet and revelling in the voice of 
 Punch ; and at his heels went Thomas 
 Codlin, bearing the show as usual, and 
 keeping his eye on Nelly and her 
 grandfather, as they rather lingered in 
 the rear. The child bore upon her 
 arm the little basket with her flowers, 
 and sometimes stopped, with timid and 
 modest looks, to offer them at some 
 gay carriage ; but alas ! there were 
 many bolder beggars there, gipsies who 
 promised husbands, and other adepts 
 in their trade, and although some ladies 
 smiled gently as they shook their heads, 
 and others cried to the gentlemen 
 beside them " See, what a pretty face !" 
 they let the pretty face pass on, and 
 never thought that it looked tired or 
 hungry. 
 
 There was but one lady who seemed 
 to understand the child, and she was one 
 who sat alone in a handsome carriage,
 
 92 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 while two young men in dashing 
 clothes, who had just dismounted from 
 it, talked and laughed loudly at a little 
 distance, appearing to forget her, quite. 
 There were many ladies all around, but 
 they turned their backs, or looked 
 another way, or at the two young men 
 (not unfavourably at them), and left 
 her to herself. She motioned away a 
 gipsy-woman urgent to tell her fortune, 
 saying that it was told already and had 
 been for some years, but called the 
 child towards her, and taking her 
 flowers put money into her trembling 
 hand, and bade her go home and keep 
 at home for God's sake. 
 
 Many a time they went up and down 
 those long long lines, seeing everything 
 but the horses and the race ; when the 
 bell rung to clear the course, going 
 hack to rest among the carts and don- 
 keys, and not coming out again until 
 the heat was over. Many a time, too, 
 was Punch displayed in the full zenith 
 of his humour, but all this while the 
 eye of Thomas Codlin was upon them, 
 and to escape without notice was im- 
 practicable. 
 
 At length, late in the day, Mr. 
 Codlin pitched the show in a conve- 
 nient spot, and the spectators were 
 soon in the very triumph of the scene. 
 The child, sitting down with the old 
 man close behind it, had been thinking j 
 
 how strange it was that horses who 
 were such fine honest creatures should 
 seem to make vagabonds of all the 
 men they drew about them, when a 
 loud laugh at some extemporaneous 
 witticism of Mr. Short's, having allu- 
 sion to the circumstances of the day, 
 roused her from her meditation and 
 caused her to look around. 
 
 If they were ever to get away un- 
 seen, that was the very moment. 
 Short was plying the quarter-staves 
 vigorously and knocking the characters 
 in the fury of the combat against the 
 sides of the show, the people were 
 looking on with laughing faces, and 
 Mr. Codlin had relaxed into a grim 
 smile as his roving eye detected hands 
 going into waistcoat pockets and grop- 
 ing secretly for sixpences. If they 
 were ever to get away unseen, that 
 was the very moment. They seized it, 
 and fled. 
 
 They made a path through booths 
 and carriages and throngs of people, 
 and never once stopped to look be- 
 hind. The bell was ringing and the 
 course was cleared by the time they 
 reached the ropes, but they dashed 
 across it insensible to the shouts and 
 screeching that assailed them for 
 breaking in upon its sanctity, and 
 creeping under the brow of the hill at 
 a quick pace, made for the open fields
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 93 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 DAY after day as he bent his steps 
 homeward, returning from some new 
 effort to procure employment, Kit 
 raised his eyes to the window of the 
 little room he had so much com- 
 mended to the child, and hoped to see 
 some indication of her presence. His 
 own earnest wish, coupled with the 
 assurance he had received from Quilp, 
 filled him with the belief that she 
 would yet arrive to claim the humble 
 shelter he had offered, and from the 
 death of each day's hope, another hope 
 sprung up to live to-morrow. 
 
 " I think they must certainly come 
 to-morrow, eh mother ? " said Kit, 
 laying aside his hat with a weary air 
 and sighing as he spoke. " They have 
 been gone a week. They surely 
 couldn't stop away more than a week, 
 could they now ? " 
 
 The mother shook her head, and 
 reminded him how often he had been 
 disappointed already. 
 
 " For the matter of that," said Kit, 
 " you speak true and sensible enough, 
 as you always do, mother. Still, I do 
 consider that a week is quite long 
 enough for 'em to be rambling about ; 
 don't you say so ? " 
 
 " Quite long enough, Kit, longer 
 than enough, but they may not come 
 back for all that." 
 
 Kit was for a moment disposed to 
 be vexed by this contradiction, and 
 not the less so from having anticipated 
 it in his own mind and knowing how 
 just it was. But the impulse was only 
 momentary, and the vexed look be- 
 came a kind one before it had crossed 
 the room. 
 
 " Then what do you think, mother, 
 has become of 'em I You don't think 
 they 've gone to sea, anyhow ? " 
 
 " Not gone for sailors, certainly," i 
 returned the mother with a smile, j 
 " But I can't help thinking that they | 
 have gone to some foreign country." 
 
 " I say," cried Kit with a rueful 
 face, " don't talk like that, mother." 
 
 " I am afraid they have, and that 's 
 
 the truth," she said. "It's the talk 
 of all the neighbours, and there are 
 some even that know of their having 
 been seen on board ship, and can tell 
 you the name of the place they've 
 gone to, which is more than I can, my 
 dear, for it 's a very hard one." 
 
 "I don't believe it," said Kit. "Not 
 a word of it. A set of idle chatter- 
 boxes, how should they know ! " 
 
 "They may be wrong of course," 
 returned the mother, "I can't tell 
 about that, though I don't think it 's at 
 all unlikely that they 're in the right, 
 for the talk is that the old gentleman 
 had put by a little money that nobody 
 knew of, not even that ugly little man 
 you talk to me about what's his 
 name Quilp ; and that he and Miss 
 Nell have gone to live abroad where 
 it can't be taken from them, and they 
 will never be disturbed. That don't 
 seem very far out of the way now, do 
 it!" 
 
 Kit scratched his head mournfully, 
 in reluctant admission that it did not, 
 and clambering up to the old nail took 
 down the cage and set himself to clean 
 it and to feed the bird. His thoughts 
 reverting from this occupation to the 
 little old gentleman who had given 
 him the shilling, he suddenly recol- 
 lected that that was the very day 
 nay, nearly the very hour at which 
 the little old gentleman had said he 
 should be at the Notary's house again. 
 He no sooner remembered this, than 
 he hung up the cage with great preci- 
 pitation, and hastily explaining the 
 nature of his errand, went off at full 
 speed to the appointed place. 
 
 It was some two minutes after the 
 time when he reached the spot, which 
 was a considerable distance from his 
 home, but by great good luck the little 
 old gentleman had not yet arrived ; at 
 least there was no pony-chaise to be 
 seen, and it was not likely that he had 
 come and gone again in so short a 
 space. Greatly relieved to find that 
 he was not too late, Kit leant against
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 a lamp-post to take breath, and waited 
 the advent of the pony and his 
 charge. 
 
 Sure enough, before long the pony 
 came trotting round the corner of the 
 street, looking as obstinate as pony 
 might, and picking his steps as if he 
 were spying about for the cleanest 
 places, and would by no means dirty 
 his feet or hurry himself inconve- 
 niently. Behind the pony sat the little 
 old gentleman, and by the old gentle- 
 man's side sat the little old lady, car- 
 rying just such a nosegay as she had 
 brought before. 
 
 The old gentleman, the old lady, the 
 pony, and the chaise, came up the 
 street in perfect unanimity, until they 
 arrived within some half a dozen doors 
 of the Notary's house, when the pony, 
 deceived by a brass-plate beneath a 
 tailor's knocker, came to a halt, and 
 maintained by a sturdy silence, that 
 that was the house they wanted. 
 
 " Now, sir, will you have the good- 
 ness to go on ; this is not the place," 
 said the old gentleman. 
 
 The pony looked with great attention 
 into a fire-plug which was near him, 
 and appeared to be quite absorbed in 
 contemplating it. 
 
 " Oh dear, such a naughty Whisker !" 
 cried the old lady. " After being so 
 good too, and coming along so well ! 
 I am quite ashamed of him. I don't 
 know what we are to do with him, I 
 really don't." 
 
 The pony having thoroughly satis- 
 fied himself as to the nature and pro- 
 perties of the fire-plug, looked into the 
 air after his old enemies the flies, and 
 as there happened to be one of them 
 tickling his ear at that moment he 
 shook his head and whisked his tail, 
 after which he appeared full of thought 
 but quite comfortable and collected. 
 The old gentleman having exhausted 
 his powers of persuasion, alighted to 
 lead him ; whereupon the pony, perhaps 
 because he held this to be a sufficient 
 concession, perhaps because he hap- 
 pened to catch sight of the other 
 brass-plate, or perhaps because he was 
 in a spiteful humour, darted off with 
 the fid lady and stopped at the right 
 
 house, leaving the old gentleman to 
 come panting on behind. 
 
 It was then that Kit presented him- 
 self at the pony's head, and touched 
 his hat with a smile. 
 
 " Why, bless me," cried the old gen- 
 tleman, " the lad is here ! My dear, 
 do you see ? " 
 
 " I said I 'd be here, sir," said Kit, 
 patting Whisker's neck. " I hope 
 you 've had a pleasant ride, sir. He 's 
 a very nice little pony." 
 
 ' My dear," said the old gentleman. 
 " This is an uncommon lad ; a good 
 lad, I'm sure." 
 
 " I 'm sure he is," rejoined the old 
 lady. " A very good lad, and I am 
 sure he is a good son." 
 
 Kit acknowledged these expressions 
 of confidence by touching his hat 
 again and blushing very much. The 
 old gentleman then handed the old 
 lady out, and after looking at him with 
 an approving smile, they went into the 
 house talking about him as they went, 
 Kit could not help feeling. Presently 
 Mr. Witherden, smelling very hard at 
 the nosegay, came to the window and 
 looked at him, and after that Mr. Abel 
 came and looked at him, and after that 
 the old gentleman and lady came and 
 looked at him again, and after that 
 they all came and looked at him 
 together, which Kit, feeling very much 
 embarrassed by, made a pretence of 
 not observing. Therefore he patted 
 the pony more and more ; and this 
 liberty the pony most handsomely per- 
 mitted. 
 
 The faces had not disappeared from 
 the window many moments, when Mr. 
 Chuckster in his official coat, and with 
 his hat hanging on his head just as it 
 happened to fall from its peg, appeared 
 upon the pavement, and telling him he 
 was wanted inside, bade him go in 
 and he would mind the chaise the 
 while. In giving him this direction 
 Mr. Chuckster remarked that he wish- 
 ed that he might be blessed if he could 
 make out whether he (Kit) was " pre- 
 cious raw" or "precious deep," but 
 intimated by a distrustful shake of the 
 head, that he inclined to the latter 
 opinion.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 95 
 
 Kit entered the office in a great 
 tremor, for he was not used to going 
 among strange ladies and gentlemen, 
 and the tin boxes and bundles of dusty 
 papers had in his eyes an awful and 
 venerable air. Mr. Witherden too 
 was a bustling gentleman who talked 
 loud and fast, and all eyes were upon 
 him, and he was very shabby. 
 
 "Well boy," said Mr. Witherden, 
 " you came to work out that shilling ; 
 not to get another, hey * " 
 
 " No indeed, sir," replied Kit, taking 
 courage to look up. " I never thought 
 of such a thing." 
 
 Father alive 1 " said the Notary. 
 Dead sir." 
 Mother " 
 Yes sir." 
 
 " Married again eh ! " 
 Kit made answer, not without some 
 indignation, that she was a widow with 
 three children, and that as to her mar- 
 rying again, if the gentleman knew her 
 he wouldn't think of such a thing. At 
 this reply Mr. Witherden buried his 
 nose in the flowers again, and whispered 
 behind the nosegay to the old gentle- 
 man that he believed the lad was as 
 honest a lad as need be. 
 
 " Now," said Mr. Garland when they 
 had made some further inquiries of 
 him, " I am not going to give you any- 
 thing " 
 
 " Thank you sir," Kit replied ; and 
 quite seriously too, for this announce- 
 ment seemed to free him from the sus- 
 picion which the Notary had hinted. 
 
 " But," resumed the old gentle- 
 man, " perhaps I may want to know 
 something more about you, so tell me 
 where you live and 1 11 put it down in 
 my pocket-book." 
 
 Kit told him, and the old gentleman 
 wrote down the address with his pencil. 
 He had scarcely done so, when there 
 
 was a great uproar in the street, and 
 the old lady hurrying to the window 
 cried that Whisker had run away, upon 
 which Kit darted out to the rescue, and 
 the others followed. 
 
 It seemed that Mr. Chuckster had 
 been standing with his hands in his 
 pockets looking carelessly at the pony, 
 and occasionally insulting him with 
 such admonitions as " Stand still," 
 "Be quiet," "Woa-a-a," and the like, 
 which by a pony of spirit cannot be 
 borne. Consequently, the pony being 
 deterred by no considerations of duty 
 or obedience, and not having before 
 him the slightest fear of the human 
 eye, had at length started off, and was 
 at that moment rattling down the 
 street, Mr. Chuckster, with his hat 
 off and a pen behind his ear, hanging 
 on in the rear of the chaise and making 
 futile attempts to draw it the other 
 way, to the unspeakable admiration of 
 all beholders. Even in running away, 
 however, Whisker was perverse, for 
 he had not gone very far when he sud- 
 denly stopped, and before assistance 
 could be rendered, commenced back- 
 ing at nearly as quick a pace as he had 
 gone forward. By these means Mr. 
 Chuckster was pushed and hustled to 
 the office again, hi a most inglorious 
 manner, and arrived in a state of great 
 exhaustion and discomfiture. 
 
 The old lady then stepped into her 
 seat, and Mr. Abel (whom they had 
 come to fetch) into his. The old gen- 
 tleman, after reasoning with the pony 
 on the extreme impropriety of his 
 conduct, and making the best amends 
 in his power to Mr. Chuckster, took 
 his place also, and they drove away, 
 waving a farewell to the Notary and 
 his clerk, and more than once turning 
 to nod kindly to Kit as he watched 
 them from the road.
 
 S6 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 KIT turned away and very soon 
 forgot the pony, and the chaise, and 
 the little old lady, and the little old 
 gentleman, and the little young gentle- 
 man to boot, in thinking what could 
 have become of his late master and 
 his lovely grandchild, who were the 
 fountain-head of all his meditations. 
 Still casting about for some plausible 
 means of accounting for their non- 
 appearance, and of persuading himself 
 that they must soon return, he bent 
 his steps towards home, intending to 
 finish the task which the sudden recol- 
 lection of his contract had interrupted, 
 and then to sally forth once more to 
 seek his fortune for the day. 
 
 When he came to the corner of the 
 court in which he lived, lo and behold 
 there was the pony again ! Yes, there 
 he was, looking more obstinate than 
 ever ; and alone in the chaise, keeping 
 a steady watch upon his every wink, 
 sat Mr. Abel, who, lifting up his eyes 
 by chance and seeing Kit pass by, 
 nodded to him as though he would 
 have nodded his head off. 
 
 Kit wondered to see the pony again, 
 80 near his own home too, but it never 
 occurred to him for what purpose the 
 pony might have come there, or where 
 the old lady and the old gentleman 
 had gone, until he lifted the latch of 
 the door, and walking in, found them 
 seated in the room in conversation 
 with his mother, at which unexpected 
 sight he pulled off his hat and made 
 his best bow in some confusion. 
 
 " We are here before you, you 
 see, Christopher," said Mr. Garland 
 smiling. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Kit ; and as he said 
 it, he looked towards his mother for an 
 explanation of the visit. 
 
 " The gentleman 's been kind enough, 
 my dear," said she, in reply to this 
 mute interrogation, " to ask me 
 whether you were in a good place, or 
 in any place at all, and when I told 
 him no, you were not in any, he was 
 so good as to say that " 
 
 " That we wanted a good lad in our 
 house," said the old gentleman and 
 the old lady both together, " and that 
 perhaps we might think of it, if we 
 found everything as we would wish it 
 to be." 
 
 As this thinking of it, plainly meant 
 the thinking of engaging Kit, he 
 immediately partook of his mother's 
 anxiety and fell into a great flutter ; 
 for the little old couple were very 
 methodical and cautious, and asked so 
 many questions that he began to be 
 afraid there was no chance of his 
 success. 
 
 " You see, my good woman," said 
 Mrs. Garland to Kit's mother, "that 
 it 's necessary to be very careful and 
 particular in such a matter as this, for 
 we're only three in family, and are 
 very quiet regular folks, and it would 
 be a sad thing if we made any kind of 
 mistake, and found things different 
 from what we hoped and expected." 
 
 To this, Kit's mother replied, that 
 certainly it was quite true, and quite 
 right, and quite proper, and Heaven 
 forbid that she should shrink, or have 
 cause to shrink, from any inquiry into 
 her character or that of her son, who 
 was a very good son though she was 
 his mother, in which respect, she was 
 bold to say, he took after his father, 
 who was not only a good son to his 
 mother, but the best of husbands and 
 the best of fathers besides, which Kit 
 could and would corroborate she knew, 
 and so would little Jacob and the baby 
 likewise if they were old enough, 
 which unfortunately they were not, 
 though as they didn't know what a 
 loss they had had, perhaps it was a 
 great deal better that they should be 
 as young as they were ; and so Kit's 
 mother wound up a long story by 
 wiping her eyes with her apron, ana 
 patting little Jacob's head, who was 
 rocking the cradle and staring with all 
 his might at the strange lady and 
 | gentleman. 
 I When Kit's mother had done speak-
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 97 
 
 ing, the old lady struck in again, and 
 said that she was quite sure she was a 
 very honest and very respectable per- 
 son or she never would have expressed 
 herself in that manner, and that cer- 
 tainly the appearance of the children 
 and the cleanliness of the house de- 
 served great praise and did her the 
 utmost credit, whereat Kit's mother 
 dropped a curtsey and became con- 
 soled. Then the good woman entered 
 into a long and minute account of 
 Kit's life and history from the earliest 
 period down to that time, not omitting 
 to make mention of his miraculous fall 
 out of a back-parlour window when an 
 infant of tender years, or his uncom- 
 mon sufferings in a state of measles, 
 which were illustrated by correct 
 imitations of the plaintive manner in 
 which he called for toast and water, 
 day and night, and said "don't cry, 
 mother, I shall soon be better ;" for 
 proof of which statements reference 
 was made to Mrs. Green, lodger, at 
 the cheesemonger's round the corner, 
 and divers other ladies and gentlemen 
 in various parts of England and Wales, 
 (and one Mr. Brown who was sup- 
 posed to be then a corporal in the East 
 Indies, and who could of course be 
 found with very little trouble), within 
 whose personal knowledge the circum- 
 stances had occurred. This narration 
 ended, Mr. Garland put some ques- 
 tions to Kit respecting his qualifica- 
 tions and general acquirements, while 
 Mrs. Garland noticed the children, 
 and hearing from Kit's mother certain 
 remarkable circumstances which had 
 attended the birth of each, related cer- 
 tain other remarkable circumstances 
 which had attended the birth of her 
 own son, Mr. Abel, from which it 
 appeared that both Kit's mother and 
 herself had been, above and beyond 
 all other women of what condition or 
 age soever, peculiarly hemmed in with 
 perils and dangers. Lastly, inquiry 
 was made into the nature and extent 
 of Kit's wardrobe, and a small ad- 
 vance being made to improve the 
 same, he was formally hired at an 
 annual income of Six Pounds, over 
 and above his board and lodging, hy 
 No. 70. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Garland, of Abel Cot- 
 tage, Finchley. 
 
 It would be difficult to say which 
 party appeared most pleased with this 
 arrangement, the conclusion of which 
 was hailed with nothing but pleasant 
 looks and cheerful smiles on both 
 sides. It was settled that Kit should 
 repair to his new abode on the next 
 day but one, in the morning ; and 
 finally, the little old couple, after be- 
 stowing a bright half-crown on little 
 Jacob and another on the baby, took 
 their leaves ; being escorted as far as 
 the street by their new attendant, who 
 held the obdurate pony by the bridle 
 while they took their seats, and saw 
 them drive away with a lightened 
 heart. 
 
 " Well, mother," said Kit, hurrying 
 back into the house, " I think my for- 
 tune 's about made now." 
 
 " I should think it was indeed, Kit," 
 rejoined his mother. " Six pound a 
 year! Only think!" 
 
 " Ah!" said Kit, trying to maintain 
 the gravity which the consideration of 
 such a sum demanded, but grinning 
 with delight in spite of himself. 
 " There 's a property! " 
 
 Kit drew a long breath when he 
 had said this, and putting his hands 
 deep into his pockets as if there were 
 one year's wages at least in each, 
 looked at his mother, as though he 
 saw through her, and down an im- 
 mense perspective of sovereigns be- 
 yond. 
 
 " Please God we '11 make such a 
 lady of you for Sundays, mother ! such 
 a scholar of Jacob, such a child of 
 the baby, such a room of the one up 
 stairs! Six pound a year! " 
 
 " Hem! " croaked a strange voice. 
 " What 's that about six pound a year ? 
 What about six pound a year? " And 
 1 as the voice made this inquiry, Daniel 
 Quilp walked in with Richard Swivel- 
 ler at his heels. 
 
 " Who said he was to have six 
 pound a year ? " said Quilp, looking 
 sharply round. " Did the old man 
 say it, or did little Nell say it ? And 
 what's he to have it for, and where 
 are they, eh ! " 
 
 H 7
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 The good woman was so much 
 alarmed by the sudden apparition of 
 this unknown piece of ugliness, that 
 she hastily caught the baby from its 
 cradle and retreated into the furthest 
 corner of the room ; while little Jacob, 
 sitting upon his stool with his hands 
 on his knees, looked full at him in a 
 species of fascination, roaring lustily 
 all the time. Richard Swiveller took 
 an easy observation of the family over 
 Mr. Quilp's head, and Quilp himself 
 with his hands in his pockets, smiled 
 in an exquisite enjoyment of the com- 
 motion he. occasioned. 
 
 " Don't be frightened, mistress," 
 said Quilp after a pause. " Your son 
 knows me ; I don't eat babies ; I 
 don't like 'em. It will be as well to 
 stop that young screamer though, in 
 case I should be tempted to do him a 
 mischief. Holloa, sir ! Will you be 
 quiet ? " 
 
 Little Jacob stemmed the course of 
 two tears which he was squeezing out 
 of his eyes, and instantly subsided into 
 a silent horror. 
 
 " Mind you don't break out again, 
 you villain," said Quilp, looking sternly 
 at him, " or I 'Jl make faces at you 
 and throw you into fits, I will. Now 
 you sir, why haven't you been to me 
 as you promised ? " 
 
 "What should I come forl" re- 
 torted Kit. " I hadn't any business 
 with you, no more than you had with 
 me." 
 
 " Here, mistress," said Quilp, turn- 
 ing quickly away, and appealing from 
 Kit to his mother. " When did his old 
 master come or send here last ? Is 
 he here now ? If not, where 'a he 
 gone ? " 
 
 " He has not been here at all," she 
 replied. " I wish we knew where 
 they have gone, for it would make my 
 Bon a good deal easier in his mind, 
 and me too. If you 're the gentleman 
 named Mr. Quilp, I should have 
 thought you 'd have known, and so I 
 told him only this very day." 
 
 "Humph!" muttered Quilp, evi- 
 dently disappointed to believe that 
 this was true. " That 's what you tell 
 this gentleman too, is it ? " 
 
 " If the gentleman comes to ask the 
 same question, I can't tell him any- 
 thing else, sir ; and I only wish I 
 could, for our own sakes," was the 
 reply. 
 
 Quilp glanced at Richard Swiveller, 
 and observed that having met him on 
 the threshold, he assumed that he had 
 come in search of some intelligence of 
 the fugitives. He supposed he was 
 right? 
 
 "Yes," said Dick, "that was the 
 object of the present expedition. I 
 fancied it possible but let us go ring 
 fancy's knell. I 'II begin it." 
 
 " You seem disappointed," observed 
 Quilp. 
 
 " A baffler, sir, a baffler, that's all," 
 returned Dick. " I have entered 
 upon a speculation which has proved 
 a baffler ; and a Being of brightness 
 and beauty will be offered up a sacri- 
 fice at Cheggs's altar. That 's all sir." 
 
 The dwarf eyed Richard with a sar- 
 castic smile, but' Richard, who had 
 been taking a rather strong lunch with 
 a friend, observed him not, and con- 
 tinued to deplore his fate with mourn- 
 ful and despondent looks. Quilp 
 plainly discerned that there was some 
 secret reason for this visit and his 
 uncommon disappointment, and, in 
 the hope that there might be means 
 of mischief lurking beneath it, resolved 
 to worm it out. He had no sooner 
 adopted this resolution, than he con- 
 veyed as much honesty into his face 
 as it was capable of expressing, and 
 sympathised with Mr. Swiveller ex- 
 ceedingly. 
 
 '' I 'm disappointed myself," said 
 Quilp, " out of mere friendly feeling 
 for them ; but you have real reasons, 
 private reasons I have no doubt, for 
 your disappointment, and therefore it 
 comes heavier than mine." 
 
 ; ' Why, of course it does," Dick ob- 
 served, testily. 
 
 ; < Upon my word, I 'm very sorry, 
 very sorry. I 'm rather cast down 
 myself. As we are companions in 
 adversity, shall we be companions in 
 the surest way of forgetting it ? If 
 you had no particular business, now, 
 to lead you in another direction,"
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 nrged Quilp, plucking him by the 
 sleeve and looking slyly up into his 
 face out of the corners of his eyes, 
 "there is a house by the water-side 
 where they have some of the noblest 
 Schiedam reputed to be smuggled, 
 but that 's between ourselves that 
 can be got in all the world. The 
 landlord knows me. There 's a little 
 summer-house overlooking the river, 
 where we might take a glass of this 
 delicious liquor with a whiff of the 
 best tobacco it 's in this case, and of 
 the rarest quality, to my certain 
 knowledge and be perfectly snug 
 and happy, could we possibly contrive 
 it ; or is there any very particular 
 engagement that peremptorily takes 
 you another way, Mr. Swiveller, eh \ " 
 
 As the dwarf spoke, Dick's face 
 relaxed into a compliant smile, find 
 his brows slowly unbent. By the 
 time he had finished, Dick was looking 
 down at Quilp in the same sly manner 
 as Quilp was looking up at him, and 
 there remained nothing more to be 
 done but to set out for the house in 
 question. This they did, straightway. 
 The moment their backs were turned, 
 little Jacob thawed, and resumed his 
 crying from the point where Quilp 
 had frozen him. 
 
 The summer-house of which Mr. 
 Quilp had spoken was a rugged wooden 
 box, rotten and bare to see, which over- 
 hung the river's mud, and threatened 
 to slide down into it. The tavern to 
 which it belonged was a crazy building, 
 sapped and undermined by the rats, 
 and only upheld by great bars of wood 
 which were reared against its walls, 
 and had propped it up so long that 
 even they were decaying and yielding 
 with their load, and of a windy night 
 might be heard to creak and crack 
 as if the whole fabric were about to 
 come toppling down. The house stood 
 if anything so old and feeble could 
 be said to stand on a piece of waste 
 ground, blighted with the unwhole- 
 some smoke of factory chimneys, and 
 echoing the clank of iron wheels and 
 rush of troubled water. Its internal 
 accommodations amply fulfilled the 
 promise of the outside. The rooms 
 
 were low and damp, the clammy walls 
 were pierced with chinks and holes, 
 the rotten floors had sunk from their 
 level,'the very beams started from their 
 places and warned the timid stranger 
 from their neighbourhood. 
 
 To this inviting spot, entreating him 
 to observe its beauties as they passed 
 along, ME. Quilp led Richard Swivel- 
 ler, and on the table of the summer- 
 house, scored deep with many a gallows 
 and initial letter, there soon appeared a 
 wooden keg, full of the vaunted liquor. 
 Drawing it off into the glasses with 
 the skill of a practised hand, and 
 mixing it with about a third part of 
 water, Mr. Quilp assigned to Richard 
 Swiveller his portion, and lighting his 
 pipe from an end of a candle in a 
 very old and battered lantern, drew 
 himself together upon a seat and puffed 
 away. 
 
 " Is it good 1 " said Quilp, as Richard 
 Swiveller smacked his lips, " is it 
 strong and fiery ? Does it make you 
 wink, and choak, and your eyes water, 
 and your breath come short does 
 it ? " " 
 
 " Does it ? " cried Dick, throwing 
 away part of the contents of his glass, 
 and filling it up with water, " why, 
 man, you don't mean to tell me that 
 you drink such fire as this ? " 
 
 " No ! " rejoined Quilp, " Not drink 
 it ! Look here. And here. And here 
 again. Not drink it ! " 
 
 As he spoke, Daniel Quilp drew off 
 and drank three small glass-fulls of 
 the raw spirit, and then with a horrible 
 grimace took a great many pulls at his 
 pipe, and swallowing the smoke, dis- 
 charged it in a heavy cloud from his 
 nose. This feat accomplished he drew 
 himself together in his former position, 
 and laughed excessively. 
 
 " Give us a toast ! " cried Quilp, 
 rattling on the table in a dexterous 
 manner with his fist and elbow alter- 
 nately, in a kind of tune, " a woman, a 
 beauty. Let 's have a beauty for our 
 toast and empty our glasses to the last 
 drop. Her name, come ! " 
 
 " If you want a name," said Dick, 
 " here 's Sophy Wackles." 
 
 " Sophy Wackles," screamed the
 
 100 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 dwarf, " Miss Sophy Wackles that is 
 Mrs. Richard Swiveller that shall 
 be that shall be ha ha ha !" 
 
 " Ah ! " said Dick, " you might have 
 said that a few weeks ago, but it won't 
 do now, my buck. Immolating herself 
 upon the shrine of Cheggs " 
 
 " Poison Cheggs, cut Cheggs's ears 
 off," rejoined Quilp. " I won't hear 
 of Cheggs. Her name is Swiveller or 
 nothing. I '11 drink her health again, 
 and her father's, and her mother's ; 
 and to all her sisters and brothers 
 the glorious family of the Wackleses 
 all the Wackleses in one glass down 
 with it to the dregs ! " 
 
 " Well," said Richard Swiveller, 
 stopping short in the act of raising the 
 glass to his lips and looking at the 
 dwarf in a species of stupor as he 
 flourished his arms and legs about : 
 "you 're a jolly fellow, but of all the 
 jolly fellows I ever' saw or heard of, 
 you have the queerest and most extra- 
 ordinary way with you, upon my life 
 you have." 
 
 This candid declaration tended 
 rather to increase than restrain Mr. 
 Quilp's eccentricities, ' and Richard 
 Swiveller, astonished to see him in 
 such a roystering vein, and drinking 
 not a little himself, for company, 
 began imperceptibly to become more 
 companionable and confiding, so that, 
 being judiciously led on by Mr. Quilp, 
 he grew at last very confiding indeed. 
 Having once got him into this mood, 
 and knowing now the key-note to 
 strike whenever he was at a loss, 
 Daniel Quilp's task was comparatively 
 an easy one, and he was soon in pos- 
 session of the whole details of the 
 scheme contrived between the easy 
 Dick and his more designing friend. 
 
 " Stop ! " said Quilp. " That 's the 
 thing, that's the thing. It can be 
 brought about, it shall be brought 
 about. There 's my hand upon it ; 
 I 'm your friend from this minute." 
 
 " What ! do you think there 's still 
 a chance ? " enquired Dick, in surprise 
 at this encouragement. 
 
 " A chance ! " echoed the dwarf, " a 
 certainty ! Sophy Wackles, may be- 
 come a Cheggs or anything else she 
 
 likes, but not a Swiveller. Oh you 
 lucky dog ! He 's richer than any 
 Jew alive ; you 're a made man. I 
 see in you now nothing but Nelly's 
 husband, rolling in gold and silver. 
 I '11 help you. It shall be done. Mind 
 my words, it shall be done." 
 
 " But how I " said Dick. 
 
 "There's plenty of time," rejoined 
 the dwarf, " and it shall be done. 
 We '11 sit down and talk it over again 
 all the way through. Fill your glass 
 while I 'm gone. I shall be back 
 directly directly. ' ' 
 
 With these hasty words, Daniel 
 Quilp withdrew into a dismantled 
 skittle-ground behind the public-house, 
 and, throwing himself upon the ground 
 actually screamed and rolled about in 
 uncontrollable delight. 
 
 " Here 's sport ! " he cried, " sport 
 ready to my hand, all invented and 
 arranged, and only to be enjoyed. It 
 was this shallow-pated fellow who 
 made my bones ache t'other day, was 
 it ? It was his friend and fellow- 
 plotter, Mr. Trent, that once made 
 eyes at Mrs. Quilp, and leered and 
 looked, was it ? After labouring for 
 two or three years in their precious 
 scheme, to find that they 've got a 
 beggar at last, and one of them tied 
 for life. Ha ha ha ! He shall marry 
 Nell. He shall have her, and I '11 be 
 the first man, when the knot 's tied 
 hard and fast, to tell 'em what they 've 
 gained and what I 've helped 'em to. 
 Here will be a clearing of old scores, 
 here will be a time to remind 'em 
 what a capital friend I was, and how 
 I helped 'em to the heiress. Ha 
 ha ha ! " 
 
 In the height of his ecstacy, Mr. 
 Quilp had like to have met with a dis- 
 agreeable check, for, rolling very near 
 a broken dog-kennel, there leapt forth 
 a large fierce dog, who, but that his 
 chain was of the shortest, would have 
 given him a disagreeable salute. As 
 it was, the dwarf remained upon his 
 back in perfect safety, taunting the 
 dog with hideous faces, and triumphing 
 over him in his inability to advance 
 another inch, though there were not a 
 couple of feet between them.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 101 
 
 u Why don't you come and bite me, 
 why don't you come and tear me to 
 pieces, you coward ? " said Quilp, 
 hissing and worrying the animal till 
 he was nearly mad. " You 're afraid, 
 you bully, you're afraid, you know 
 you are." 
 
 The dog tore and strained at his 
 chain with starting eyes and furious 
 bark, but there the dwarf lay, snap- 
 ping his fingers with gestures of de- 
 fiance and contempt. When he had 
 
 sufficiently recovered from his delight, 
 he rose, and with his arms a-kimbo, 
 achieved a kind of demon-dance round 
 the kennel, just without the limits of 
 the chain, driving the dog quite wild. 
 Having by this means composed his 
 spirits and put himself in a pleasant 
 train, he returned to his unsuspicious 
 companion, whom he found looking at 
 the tide with exceeding gravity, and 
 thinking of that same gold and silver 
 which Mr. Quilp had mentioned. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE remainder of that day and the 
 whole of the next, were a busy time 
 for the Nubbles family, to whom every- 
 thing connected with Kit's outfit and 
 departure was matter of as great 
 moment as if he had been about to 
 penetrate into the interior of Africa, 
 or to take a cruise round the world. 
 It would be difficult to suppose that 
 there ever was a box which was opened 
 and shut so many times within four- 
 and-twenty hours, as that which con- 
 tained his wardrobe and necessaries ; 
 and certainly there never was one 
 which to two small eyes presented 
 such a mine of clothing, as this mighty 
 chest with its three shirts and propor- 
 tionate allowance of stockings and 
 pocket-handkerchiefs, disclosed to the 
 astonished vision of little Jacob. At 
 last it was conveyed to the carriers, at 
 whose house, at Finchley, Kit was to 
 find it next day ; and the box being 
 gone, there remained but two questions 
 for consideration : firstly, whether the 
 carrier would lose, or dishonestly feign 
 to lose, the box upon the road : and 
 secondly, whether Kit's mother per- 
 fectly understood how to take care of 
 herself in the absence of her son. 
 
 " I don't think there 's hardly a 
 chance of his really losing it, but 
 carriers are under great temptation to 
 pretend they lose things, no doubt," 
 
 said Mrs. Nubbles apprehensively, in 
 reference to the first point. 
 
 " No doubt about it," returned Kit, 
 with a serious look ; " upon my word 
 mother, I don 't think it was right to 
 trust it to itself. Somebody ought to 
 have gone with it, I 'm afraid." 
 
 " We can 't help it now," said his 
 mother ; " but it was foolish and wrong. 
 People oughtn't to be tempted." 
 
 Kit inwardly resolved that he would 
 never tempt a carrier any more, save 
 with an empty box ; and having formed 
 this Christian determination, he turned 
 his thoughts to the second question. 
 
 " You know you must keep up your 
 spirits mother, and not be lonesome 
 because I 'm not at home. I shall very 
 often be able to look in when I come 
 into town I dare say, and I shall send 
 you a letter sometimes, and when the 
 quarter comes round, I can get a 
 holiday of course ; and then see if we 
 don't take little Jacob to the play, and 
 let him know what oysters means." 
 
 " I hope plays mayn't be sinful, 
 Kit, but I 'm a'most afraid," said Mrs. 
 Nubbles. 
 
 " 1 know who has been putting that 
 in your head," rejoined her son dis- 
 consolately ; " that 's Little Bethel 
 again. Now I say, mother, pray don't 
 take to going there regularly, for if I 
 was to see your good-humoured face
 
 102 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 that has always made home cheerful, 
 turned into a grievous one, and the 
 baby trained to look grievous too, and 
 to call itself a young sinner (bless 
 its heart) and a child of the devil 
 (which is calling its dead father 
 names) ; if I was to see this, and see 
 little Jacob looking grievous likewise, 
 I should so take it to heart that I 'm 
 sure I should go and list for a soldier, 
 and run my head on purpose against 
 the first cannon-ball I saw coming my 
 way." 
 
 " Oh, Kit, don't talk like that." 
 " I would indeed, mother, and un- 
 less you want to make me feel very 
 wretched and uncomfortable, you '11 
 keep that bow on your bonnet, which 
 you 'd more than half a mind to pull 
 off last week. Can you suppose there 's 
 any harm in looking as cheerful and 
 being as cheerful as our poor circum- 
 stances will permit \ Do I see any- 
 thing in the way I 'm made, which calls 
 upon me to be a snivelling, solemn, 
 whispering chap, sneaking about as if 
 I couldn't help it, and expressing my- 
 self in a most unpleasant snuffle ? on 
 the contrairy, don't I see every reason 
 why I shouldn't \ Just hear this ! 
 Ha ha ha ! An't that as nat'ral as 
 walking, and as good for the health ? 
 Ha ha ha ! An't that as nat'ral as a 
 sheep's bleating, or a pig's grunting, or 
 a horse's neighing, or a bird's singing ? 
 Ha ha ha ! Isn't it, mother \ " 
 
 There was something contagious in 
 Kit's laugh, for his mother, who had 
 looked grave before, first subsided into 
 a smile, and then fell to joining in it 
 heartily, which occasioned Kit to say 
 that he knew it was natural, and to 
 laugh the more. Kit and his mother, 
 laughing together in a pretty loud key, 
 woke the baby, who, finding that there 
 Was something very jovial and agree- 
 able in progress, was no sooner in its 
 mother's arms than it began to kick 
 and laugh, most vigorously. This new 
 illustration of his argument so tickled 
 Kit, that he fell backward in his chair 
 in a state of exhaustion, pointing at the 
 baby and shaking his sides till he 
 rocked again. After recovering twice 
 or thrice, and as often relapsing, he 
 
 wiped his eyes and said grace ; and a 
 very cheerful meal their scanty supper 
 was. 
 
 With more kisses, and hugs, and 
 tears, than many young gentlemen who 
 start upon their travels, and leave well- 
 stocked homes behind them, would 
 deem within the bounds of probability 
 (if matter so low could be herein set 
 down), Kit left the house at an early 
 hour next morning, and set out to 
 walk to Finchley ; feeling a sufficient 
 pride in his appearance to have war- 
 ranted his excommunication from 
 Little Bethel from that time forth, if 
 he had ever been one of that mournful 
 congregation. 
 
 Lest anybody should feel a curiosity 
 to know how Kit was clad, it may be 
 briefly remarked that he wore no 
 livery, but was dressed in a coat 
 of pepper-and-salt with waistcoat- of 
 canary colour, and nether garments of 
 iron grey ; besides these glories, he 
 shone in the lustre of a new pair of 
 boots and an extremely stiff and shiny 
 hat, which on being struck anywhere 
 with the knuckles, sounded like a 
 drum. And in this attire, rather won- 
 dering that he attracted so little atten- 
 tion, and attributing the circumstance 
 to the insensibility of those who got up 
 early, he made his way towards Abel 
 Cottage. 
 
 Without encountering any more re- 
 markable adventure on the road, than 
 meeting a lad in a brimless hat, the 
 exact counterpart of his old one, on 
 whom he bestowed half the sixpence 
 he possessed, Kit arrived in course of 
 time at the carrier's house, where, to 
 the lasting honour of human nature, he 
 found the box in safety. Receiving 
 from the wife of this immaculate man, 
 a direction to Mr. Garland's, he took 
 the box upon his shoulder and repaired 
 thither directly. 
 
 To be sure, it was a beautiful little 
 cottage with a thatched roof and little 
 spires at the gable-ends, and pieces of 
 stained glass in some of the windows, 
 almost as large as pocket-books. On 
 one side of the house was a little stable, 
 just the size for the pony, with a little 
 room over it, just the size for Kit.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 103 
 
 White curtains were fluttering, and 
 birds in cages that looked as bright as 
 if they were made of gold, were sing- 
 ing, at the windows ; plants were ar- 
 ranged on either side of the path, and 
 clustered about the door ; and the 
 garden was bright with flowers in full 
 bloom, which shed a sweet odour all 
 round, and had a charming and elegant 
 appearance. Everything, within the 
 house and without, seemed to be the 
 perfection of neatness and order. In 
 the garden there was not a weed to be 
 seen, and to judge from some dapper 
 gardening-tools, a basket, and a pair of 
 gloves which were lying in one of the 
 walks, old Mr. Garland had been at 
 work in it that very morning. 
 
 Kit looked about him, and admired, 
 and looked again, and this a great 
 many times before he could make up 
 his mind to turn his head another way 
 and ring the bell. There was abund- 
 ance of time to look about him again 
 though, when he had rung it, for 
 nobody came, so after ringing twice or 
 thrice he sat down upon his box, and 
 waited. 
 
 He rung the bell a great many 
 times, and yet nobody came. But at 
 last, as he was sitting upon the box 
 thinking about giants' castles, and 
 princesses tied up to pegs by the hair 
 of their heads, and dragons bursting 
 out from behind gates, and other inci- 
 dents of the like nature, common in 
 story-books to youths of low degree 
 on their first visit to strange houses, 
 the door was gently opened, and a 
 little servant-girl, very tidy, modest, 
 and demure, but very pretty too, 
 appeared. 
 
 " I suppose you 're Christopher, sir," 
 said the servant-girl. 
 
 Kit got off the box, and said yes, he 
 was. 
 
 " I 'm afraid you 've rung a good 
 many times perhaps," she rejoined, 
 "but we couldn't hear you, because 
 we 've been catching the pony." 
 
 Kit rather wondered what this 
 meant, but as he couldn't stop there, 
 asking questions, he shouldered the 
 box again and followed the girl into 
 the hall, where through a back-door 
 
 he descried Mr. Garland leading 
 Whisker in triumph up the garden, 
 after that self-willed pony had (as he 
 afterwards learned) dodged the family 
 round a small paddock in the rear, for 
 one hour and three quarters. 
 
 The old gentleman received him 
 very kindly and so did the old lady, 
 whose previous good opinion of him 
 was greatly enhanced by his wiping 
 his boots on the mat until the soles of 
 his feet burnt again. He was then 
 taken into the parlour to be inspected 
 in his new clothes ; and when he had 
 been surveyed several times, and had 
 afforded by his appearance unlimited 
 satisfaction, he was taken into the 
 stable (where the pony received him 
 with uncommon complaisance) ; and 
 and thence into the little chamber he 
 had already observed, which was very 
 clean and comfortable ; and thence 
 into the garden, in which the old gen- 
 tleman told him he would be taught to 
 employ himself, and where he told 
 him, besides, what great things he 
 meant to do to make him comfortable, 
 and happy, if he found he deserved it. 
 All these kindnesses, Kit acknowledged 
 with various expressions of gratitude, 
 and so many touches of the new hat, 
 that the brim suffered considerably. 
 When the old gentleman had said all 
 he had to say in the way of promise 
 and advice, and Kit had said all he 
 had to say in the way of assurance 
 and thankfulness, he was handed over 
 again to the old lady, who, sum- 
 moning the little servant-girl (whose 
 name was Barbara) instructed her 
 to take him down stairs and give him 
 something to eat and drink, after his 
 walk. 
 
 Down stairs therefore, Kit went ; 
 and at the bottom of the stairs there 
 was such a kitchen as was never before 
 seen or heard of out of a toy-shop 
 window, with everything in it as 
 bright and glowing, and as precisely 
 ordered too, as Barbara herself. And 
 in this kitchen, Kit sat himself down 
 at a table as white as a table-cloth, to 
 eat cold meat, and drink small ale, 
 and use his knife and fork the more 
 awkwardly, because there was an
 
 104 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 unknown Barbara looking on and 
 observing him. 
 
 It did not appear, however, that 
 there was anything remarkably tre- 
 mendous about this strange Barbara, 
 who having lived a very quiet life, 
 blushed very much and was quite as 
 embarrassed and uncertain what she 
 ought to say or do, as Kit could pos- 
 sibly be. When he had sat for some 
 little time, attentive to the ticking of 
 the sober clock, he ventured to glance 
 curiously at the dresser, and there, 
 among the plates and dishes, were 
 Barbara's little work-box with a 
 sliding lid to shut in the balls of 
 cotton, and Barbara's prayer-book, 
 and Barbara's hymn-book, and Bar- 
 
 bara's Bible. Barbara's little looking- 
 glass hung in a good light near the 
 window, and Barbara's bonnet was on 
 a nail behind the door. From all 
 these mute signs and tokens of her 
 presence, he naturally glanced at Bar- 
 bara herself, who sat as mute as they, 
 shelling peas into a dish ; and just 
 when Kit was looking at her eyelashes 
 and wondering quite in the simplicity 
 of his heart what colour her eyes 
 might be, it perversely happened that 
 Barbara raised her head a little to 
 look at him, when both pair of eyes 
 were hastily withdrawn, and Kit leant 
 over his plate, and Barbara over her 
 pea-shells, each in extreme confusion 
 at having been detected by the other. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 MR. RICHARD SWIVELLER wending 
 homewards from the Wilderness (for 
 such was the appropriate name of Quilp's 
 choice retreat), after a sinuous and cork- 
 screw fashion, with many checks and 
 stumbles ; after stopping suddenly and 
 staring about him, then as suddenly 
 running forward for a few paces, and 
 as suddenly halting again and shaking 
 his head ; doing everything with a 
 jerk and nothing by premeditation ; 
 Mr. Richard Swiveller wending his 
 way homewards after this fashion, 
 which is considered by evil-minded 
 men to be symbolical of intoxication, 
 and is not held by such persons to 
 denote that state of deep wisdom and 
 reflection in which the actor knows 
 himself to be, began to think that pos- 
 sibly he had misplaced his confidence 
 and that the dwarf might not be pre- 
 cisely the sort of person to whom 
 to entrust a secret of such delicacy 
 and importance. And being led and 
 tempted on by this remorseful thought 
 into a condition which the evil-minded 
 class before referred to would term 
 the maudh'n state or stage of drunken- 
 
 ness, it occurred to Mr. Swiveller to 
 cast his hat upon the ground, and 
 moan, crying aloud that he was an un- 
 happy orphan, and that if he had not 
 been an unhappy orphan things had 
 never come to this. 
 
 " Left an infant by my parents, at 
 an early age," said Mr. Swiveller, 
 bewailing his hard lot, " cast upon the 
 world in my tenderest period, and 
 thrown upon the mercies of a deluding 
 dwarf, who can wonder at my weak- 
 ness ! Here 's a miserable orphan 
 for you. Here," said Mr. Swiveller 
 raising his voice to a high pitch, and 
 looking sleepily round, " is a miserable 
 orphan ! " 
 
 " Then," said somebody hard by, 
 " let me be a father to you." 
 
 Mr. Swiveller swayed himself to and 
 fro to preserve his balance, and, look- 
 ing into a kind of haze which seemed 
 to surround him, at last perceived 
 two eyes dimly twinkling through the 
 mist, which he observed after a short 
 time were in the neighbourhood of a 
 nose and mouth. Casting his eyes 
 down towards that quarter in which,
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 105 
 
 with reference to a man's face, his 
 legs are usually to be found, he ob- 
 served that the face had a body at- 
 tached ; and when he looked more 
 intently he was satisfied that the 
 person was Mr. Quilp, who indeed 
 had been in his company all the time 
 but whom he had some vague idea of 
 having left a mile or two behind. 
 
 " You have deceived an orphan sir," 
 said Mr. Swiveller solemnly. 
 
 " I .! I 'm a second father to you," 
 replied Quilp. 
 
 " You my father sir ! " retorted 
 Dick. " Being all right myself sir, I 
 request to be left alone instantly sir." 
 
 " What a funny fellow you are ! " 
 cried Quilp. 
 
 " Go sir," returned Dick, leaning 
 against a post and waving his hand. 
 " Go deceiver go, some day sir, p'r'aps 
 you '11 waken, from pleasure's dream 
 to know, the grief of orphans forsaken. 
 Will you go sir ? " 
 
 The dwarf taking no heed of this 
 adjuration, Mr. Swiveller advanced 
 with the view of inflicting upon him 
 condign chastisement. But forgetting 
 his purpose or changing his mind 
 before he came close to him, he seized 
 his hand and vowed eternal friendship, 
 declaring with an agreeable frankness 
 that from that time forth they were 
 brothers in everything but personal 
 appearance. Then he told his secret 
 all over again, with the addition of 
 being pathetic on the subject of Miss 
 Wackles, who, he gave Mr. Quilp to 
 understand, was the occasion of any 
 slight incoherency he might observe 
 in his speech at that moment, which 
 was attributable solely to the strength 
 of his affection and not to rosy wine or 
 other fermented liquor. And then 
 they went on arm-in-arm, very lovingly 
 together. 
 
 " I 'm as sharp," said Quilp to him, 
 at parting, " as sharp as a ferret, and 
 as cunning as a weazel. You bring 
 Trent to me ; assure him that I 'm his 
 friend though I fear he a little dis- 
 trusts me (I don't know why, I have 
 not deserved it) ; and you 've both of 
 you made your fortunes in perspec- 
 tive." 
 
 " That 'a the worst of it," returned 
 Dick. " These fortunes in perspective 
 look such a long way off." 
 
 " But they look smaller than they 
 really are, on that account," said Quilp 
 pressing his arm. " You '11 have no 
 conception of the value of your prize 
 until you draw close to it. Mark 
 that." 
 
 D 'ye think not ? " said Dick. 
 
 " Aye, I do ; and I am certain of 
 what I say, that's better," returned 
 the dwarf. " You bring Trent to me. 
 Tell him I am his friend and yours 
 why shouldn't I be ? " 
 
 " There 's no reason why you 
 shouldn't certainly," replied Dick, 
 " and perhaps there are a great many 
 why you should at least there would 
 be nothing strange in your wanting to 
 be my friend, if you were a choice 
 spirit, but then you know you 're not a 
 choice spirit." 
 
 " I not a choice spirit ! " cried Quilp. 
 
 "Devil a bit sir," returned Dick. 
 " A man of your appearance couldn't 
 be. If you 're any spirit at all, sir, 
 you 're an evil spirit. Choice spirits," 
 added Dick, smiting himself on the 
 breast, "are quite a different looking 
 sort of people, you may take your oath 
 of that, sir." 
 
 Quilp glanced at his free-spoken 
 friend with a mingled expression of 
 cunning and dislike, and wringing his 
 hand almost at the same moment, 
 declared that he was an uncommon 
 character and had his warmest esteem. 
 With that they parted ; Mr. Swiveller 
 to make the best of his way home and 
 sleep himself sober ; and Quilp to cogi- 
 tate upon the discovery he had made, 
 and exult in the prospect of the rich 
 field of enjoyment and reprisal it 
 opened to him. 
 
 It was not without great reluctance 
 and misgiving that Mr. Swiveller, next 
 morning, his head racked by the fumes 
 of the renowned Schiedam, repaired to 
 the lodging of his friend Trent (which 
 was in the roof of an old house in an 
 old ghostly inn), and recounted by very 
 slow degrees what had yesterday taken 
 place between him and Quilp. Nor 
 was it without great surprise and much
 
 ]OG 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 speculation on Quilp's probable mo- 
 tives, nor without many bitter com- 
 ments on Dick Swiveller's folly, that 
 his friend received the tale. 
 
 *' I don't defend myself, Fred," said 
 the penitent Richard ; " but the fellow 
 has such a queer way with him and is 
 such an artful dog, that first of all he 
 set me upon thinking whether there 
 was any harm in telling him, and while 
 I was thinking, screwed it out of me. 
 If you had seen him drink and smoke, 
 as I did, you couldn't have kept any- 
 thing from him. He 's a Salamander 
 you know, that 's what he is." 
 
 Without inquiring whether Sala- 
 manders were of necessity good confi- 
 dential agents, or whether a fire-proof 
 man was as a matter of course trust- 
 worthy, Frederick Trent threw himself 
 into a chair, and, burying his head in 
 his hands, endeavoured to fathom the 
 motives which had led Quilp to insinu- 
 ate himself into Richard Swiveller's 
 confidence ; for that the disclosure 
 was of his seeking and had not been 
 spontaneously revealed by Dick, was 
 sufficiently plain from Quilp's seeking 
 his company and enticing him away. 
 
 The dwarf had twice encountered 
 him when he was endeavouring to 
 obtain intelligence of the fugitives. 
 This, perhaps, as he had not shown 
 any previous anxiety about them, was 
 enough to awaken suspicion in the 
 breast of a creature so jealous and dis- 
 trustful by nature, setting aside any 
 additional impulse to curiosity that he 
 might have derived from Dick's incau- 
 tious manner. But knowing the 
 scheme they had planned, why should 
 he offer to assist it ? This was a ques- 
 tion more difficult of solution ; but as 
 knaves generally overreach themselves 
 by imputing their own designs to 
 others, the idea immediately presented 
 itself that some circumstances of irri- 
 tation between Quilp and the old man, 
 arising out of their secret transactions 
 and not unconnected perhaps with his 
 sudden disappearance, now rendered 
 the former desirous of revenging him- 
 self upon him by seeking to entrap the 
 sole object of his love and anxiety into 
 a connexion of which he knew he had 
 
 a dread and hatred. As Frederick 
 Trent himself, utterly regardless of hia 
 sister, had this object at heart, only 
 second to the hope of gain, it seemed 
 to him the more likely to be Quilp's 
 main principle of action. Once invest- 
 ing the dwarf with a design of his own 
 in abetting them, which the attainment 
 of their purpose would serve, it was 
 easy to believe him sincere and hearty 
 in the cause ; and as there could be no 
 doubt of his proving a powerful and 
 useful auxiliary, Trent determined to 
 accept his invitation and go to his 
 house that night, and if what he said 
 and did confirmed him in the impres- 
 sion he had formed, to let him share 
 the labour of their plan, but not tho 
 profit. 
 
 Having revolved these things in his 
 mind and arrived at this conclusion, 
 he communicated to Mr. Swiveller as 
 much of his meditations as he thought 
 proper (Dick would have been per- 
 fectly satisfied with less), and giving 
 him the day to recover himself from 
 his late salamandering, accompanied 
 him at evening to Mr. Quilp's house. 
 
 Mightily glad Mr. Quilp was to see 
 them, or mightily glad he seemed to 
 be ; and fearfully polite Mr. Quilp was 
 to Mrs. Quilp and Mrs. Jiniwin ; and 
 very sharp was the look he cast on his 
 wife to observe how she was affected 
 by the recognition of young Trent. 
 Mrs. Quilp was as innocent as her own 
 mother of any emotion, painful or plea- 
 sant, which the sight of him awakened, 
 but as her husband's glance made her 
 timid and confused, and uncertain 
 what to do or what was required of 
 her, Mr. Quilp did not fail to assign 
 her embarrassment to the cause he had 
 in his mind, and while he chuckled at 
 his penetration was secretly exasper- 
 ated by his jealousy. 
 
 Nothing of this appeared, however. 
 On the contrary, Mr. Quilp was all 
 blandness and suavity, and presided 
 over the case-bottle of rum with extra- 
 ordinary open-heartedness. 
 
 " Why, let me see," said Quilp. 
 " It must be a matter of nearly two 
 years since we were first acquainted." 
 
 " Nearer three, I think," said Trent.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 107 
 
 " Nearer three ! " cried Quilp. 
 * How fast time flies. Does it seem as 
 long as that to you, Mrs. Quilp ? " 
 
 " Yes, I think it seems full three 
 years, Quilp," was the unfortunate 
 reply. " Oh indeed ma'am," thought 
 Quilp, " you have been piuing, have 
 you I Very good ma'am." 
 
 " It seems to me but yesterday that 
 you went out to Demerara in the Mary 
 Anne," said Quilp ; " but yesterday, I 
 declare. Well, I like a little wildness. 
 I was wild myself once." 
 
 Mr. Quilp accompanied this admis- 
 sion with such an awful wink, indica- 
 tive of old rovings and backslidings, 
 that Mrs. Jiniwiu was indignant, and 
 could not forbear from remarking 
 under her breath that he might at 
 least put off his confessions until his 
 wife was absent; for which act of 
 boldness and insubordination Mr. Quilp 
 first stared her out of countenance and 
 then drank her health ceremoniously. 
 
 " I thought you 'd come back di- 
 rectly, Fred. I always thought that," 
 said Quilp setting down his glass. 
 u And when the Mary Anne returned 
 with you on board, instead of a letter 
 to say what a contrite heart you had, 
 and how happy you were in the situa- 
 tion that had been provided for you, 
 I was amused exceedingly amused. 
 Ha ha ha ! " 
 
 The young man smiled, but not as 
 though the theme was the most agree- 
 able one that could have been selected 
 for his entertainment ; and for that 
 reason Quilp pursued it. 
 
 "I always will say," he resumed, 
 u that when a rich relation having two 
 young people sisters or brothers, or 
 brother and sister dependent on him, 
 attaches himself exclusively to one, 
 and casts off the other, he does 
 wrong." 
 
 The young man made a movement 
 of impatience, but Quilp went on as 
 calmly as if he were discussing some 
 abstract question in which nobody 
 present had the slightest personal 
 interest 
 
 " It 's very true," said Quilp, " that 
 your grandfather urged repeated for- 
 giveness, ingratitude, riot, and extra- 
 
 vagance, and all that ; but as I told 
 him ' these are common faults.' * But 
 he 's a scoundrel,' said he. ' Granting 
 that,' said I, (for the sake of argument 
 of course), ' a great many young noble- 
 men and gentlemen are scoundrels 
 too ! ' But he wouldn't be con- 
 vinced." 
 
 " I wonder at that, Mr. Quilp," 
 said the young man sarcastically. 
 
 " Well, so did I at the time," re- 
 turned Quilp, " but he was always 
 obstinate. He was in a manner a friend 
 of mine, but he was always obstinate 
 and wrong-headed. Little Nell is a 
 nice girl, a charming girl, but you 're 
 her brother, Frederick. You 're her 
 brother after all ; as you told him 
 the last time you met, he can't alter 
 that." 
 
 " He would if he could, confound 
 him for that and all other kindnesses," 
 said the young man impatiently. " But 
 nothing can come of this subject now, 
 and let us have done with it in the 
 Devil's name." 
 
 " Agreed," returned Quilp, "agreed 
 on my part, readily. Why have I 
 alluded to it ? Just to show you, Fre- 
 derick, that I have always stood your 
 friend. You little knew who was 
 your friend and who your foe ; now 
 did you ? You thought I was against 
 you, and so there has been a coolness 
 between us ; but it was all on your 
 side, entirely on your side. Let's 
 shake hands again, Fred." 
 
 With his head sunk down between 
 his shoulders, and a hideous grin over- 
 spreading his face, the dwarf stood up 
 and stretched his short arm across the 
 table. After a moment's hesitation, 
 the young man stretched out his to 
 meet it ; Quilp clutched his fingers in 
 a grip that for the moment stopped the 
 current of the blood within them, and 
 pressing his other hand upon his lip 
 and frowning towards the unsuspicious 
 Richard, released them and sat down. 
 
 This action was not lost upon Trent, 
 who, knowing that Richard Swiveller 
 was a mere tool in his hands and knew 
 no more of his designs than he thought 
 proper to communicate, saw that the 
 dwarf perfectly understood their rela-
 
 108 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 tire position, and fully entered into the 
 character of his friend. It is some- 
 thing to be appreciated, oven in knav- 
 ery. This silent homage to his supe- 
 rior abilities, no less than a sense of 
 the power with which the dwarf's 
 quick perception had already invested 
 him, inclined the young man towards 
 that ugly worthy, and determined him 
 to profit by his aid. 
 
 It being now Mr. Quilp's cue to 
 change the subject with all convenient 
 expedition, lest Richard Swiveller in 
 his heedlessness should reveal any- 
 thing which it was inexpedient for the 
 women to know, he proposed a game 
 at four-handed cribbage ; and partners 
 being cut for, Mrs. Q,uilp fell to Fre- 
 derick Trent, and Dick himself to 
 Quilp. Mrs. Jiniwin being very fond 
 of cards was carefully excluded by her 
 son-in-law from any participation in 
 the game, and had assigned to her 
 the duty of occasionally replenishing 
 the glasses from the case-bottle ; Mr. 
 Quilp from that moment keeping one 
 eye constantly upon her, lest she 
 should by any means procure a taste 
 of the same, and thereby tantalising 
 the wretched old lady (who was as 
 much attached to the case-bottle as 
 the cards) in a double degree and most 
 ingenious manner. 
 
 But it was not to Mrs. Jiniwin alone 
 that Mr. Quilp's attention was re- 
 stricted, as several other matters re- 
 quired his constant vigilance. Among 
 his various eccentric habits he had a 
 humorous one of always cheating at 
 cards, which rendered necessary on 
 his part, not only a close observance 
 of the game, and a sleight-of-hand in 
 counting and scoring, but also involved 
 the constant correction, by looks, and 
 frowns, and kicks under the table, 
 of Richard Swiveller, who being be- 
 wildered by the rapidity with which 
 his cards were told, and the rate at 
 which the pegs travelled down the 
 % board, could not be prevented from 
 sometimes expressing his surprise and 
 incredulity. Mrs. Quilp too was the 
 partner of young Trent, and for every 
 look that passed between them, and 
 every word they spoke, and every 
 
 card they played, the dwarf had eyes 
 and ears ; not occupied alone with 
 what was passing above the table, but 
 with signals that might be exchanging 
 beneath it, which he laid all kinds of 
 traps to detect ; besides often treading 
 on his wife's toes to see whether she 
 cried out or remained silent under the 
 infliction, in which latter case it would 
 have been quite clear that Trent had 
 been treading on her toes before. 
 Yet, in the most of all these distrac- 
 tions, the one eye was upon the old 
 lady always, and if she so much as 
 stealthily advanced a tea-spoon to- 
 wards a neighbouring glass (which she 
 often did), for the purpose of abstract- 
 ing but one sup of its sweet contents, 
 Quilp's hand would overset it in the 
 very moment of her triumph, and 
 Quilp's mocking voice implore her to 
 regard her precious health. And in 
 any one of these his many cares, from 
 first to last, Quilp never flagged nor 
 faultered. 
 
 At length, when they had played a 
 great many rubbers and drawn pretty 
 freely upon the case-bottle, Mr. Quilp 
 warned his lady to retire to rest, and 
 that submissive wife complying, and 
 being followed by her indignant 
 mother, Mr. Swiveller fell asleep. 
 The dwarf beckoning his remaining 
 companion to the other end of the 
 room, held a short conference with 
 him in whispers. 
 
 " It 's as well not to say more than 
 one can help before our worthy 
 friend," said Quilp, making a grimace 
 towards the slumbering Dick. " Is it 
 a bargain between us Fred ? Shall he 
 marry little rosy Nell bye and bye ? " 
 
 " You have some end of your own 
 to answer of course," returned the 
 other. 
 
 " Of course I have, dear Fred," said 
 Quilp, grinning to think how little he 
 suspected what the real end was. 
 " It 's retaliation perhaps ; perhaps 
 whim. I have influence, Fred, to 
 help or oppose. Which way shall I 
 use it? There are a pair of scales, 
 and it goes into one." 
 
 " Throw it into mine then," said 
 Trent.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 109 
 
 "It's done Fred," rejoined Quilp, 
 stretching out his clenched hand and 
 opening it as if he had let some 
 weight fall out. " It 's in the scale 
 from this time, and turns it Fred. 
 Mind that." 
 
 Where have they gone I " asked 
 Trent. 
 
 Quilp shook his head, and said that 
 point remained to be discovered, 
 which it might be, easily. When it 
 was, they would begin their prelimi- 
 nary advances. He would visit the 
 old man, or even Richard Swiveller 
 might visit him, and by affecting a 
 deep concern in his behalf and im- 
 ploring him to settle in some worthy 
 home, lead to the child's remember- 
 ing him with gratitude and favour. 
 Once impressed to this extent, it 
 would be easy, he said, to win her in 
 a year or two, for she supposed the 
 old man to be poor, as it was a part 
 of his jealous policy (in common with 
 many other misers) to feign to be so, 
 to those about him. 
 
 " He has feigned it often enough to 
 me, of late," said Trent. 
 
 " Oh ! and to me too ! " replied the 
 dwarf. " Which is more extraordi- 
 nary, as I know how rich he really 
 is." 
 
 " I suppose you should," said Trent. 
 
 "I think I should indeed," rejoined 
 the dwarf; and in that, at least, he 
 spoke the truth. 
 
 After a few more whispered words, 
 they returned to the table, and the 
 
 young man rousing Richard Swiveller 
 informed him that he was waiting to 
 depart. This was welcome news to 
 Dick, who started up directly. After 
 a few words of confidence in the 
 result of their project had been ex- 
 changed, they bade the grinning Quilp 
 good night. 
 
 Quilp crept to the window as they 
 passed in the street below, and list- 
 ened. Trent was pronouncing an 
 encomium upon his wife, and they 
 were both wondering by what en- 
 chantment she had been brought to 
 marry such a mis-shapen wretch as 
 he. The dwarf after watching their 
 retreating shadows with a wider grin 
 than his face had yet displayed, stole 
 softly in the dark to bed. 
 
 In this hatching of their scheme, 
 neither Trent nor Quilp had had one 
 thought about the happiness or misery 
 of poor innocent Nell. It would have 
 been strange if the careless profligate, 
 who was the butt of both, had been 
 harassed by any such consideration ; 
 for his high opinion of his own merits 
 and deserts rendered the project 
 rather a laudable one than otherwise ; 
 and if he had been visited by so un- 
 wonted a guest as reflection, he would 
 being a brute only in the gratifica- 
 tion of his appetites have soothed his 
 conscience with the plea that he did 
 not mean to beat or kill his wife, and 
 would tkerefore, after all said and 
 done, be a very tolerable, average 
 husband.
 
 no 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 IT was not until they were quite 
 exhausted and could no longer main- 
 tain the pace at which they had fled 
 from the race-ground, that the old 
 man and the child ventured to stop, 
 and sit down to rest upon the borders 
 of a little wood. Here, though the 
 course was hidden from their view, 
 they could yet faintly distinguish the 
 noise of distant shouts, the hum of 
 voices, and the beating of drums. 
 Climbing the eminence which lay be- 
 tween them and the spot they had 
 left, the child could even discern the 
 fluttering flags and white tops of 
 booths ; but no person was approach- 
 ing towards them, and their resting- 
 place was solitary and still. 
 
 Some time elapsed before she could 
 reassure her trembling companion, or 
 restore him to a state of moderate 
 tranquillity. His disordered imagina- 
 tion represented to him a crowd of 
 persons stealing towards them beneath 
 the cover of the bushes, lurking in 
 every ditch, and peeping from the 
 boughs of every rustling tree. He was 
 haunted by apprehensions of being led 
 captive to some gloomy place where 
 lie would be chained and scourged, 
 and worse than all, where Nell could 
 never come to see him, save through 
 iron bars and gratings in the wall. 
 His terrors affected the child. Separa- 
 tion from her grandfather was the 
 greatest evil she could dread ; and 
 feeling for the time as though, go 
 where they would, they were to be 
 hunted down, and could never be safe 
 but in hiding, her heart failed her, and 
 her courage drooped. 
 
 In one so young, and so unused to 
 the scenes in which she had lately 
 moved, this sinking of the spirit was 
 not surprising. But, Nature often 
 enshrines gallant and noble hearts in 
 weak bosoms oftenest, God bless her, 
 in female breasts and when the child, 
 casting her tearful eyes upon the old 
 man, remembered how weak he was, 
 and how destitute and helpless he 
 
 would be if she failed him, her heart 
 swelled within her, and animated her 
 with new strength and fortitude. 
 
 " We are quite safe now, and have 
 nothing to fear indeed, dear grand- 
 father," she said. 
 
 " Nothing to fear ! " returned the 
 old man. " Nothing to fear if they 
 took me from thee ! Nothing to fear 
 if they parted us ! Nobody is true to 
 me. No, not one. Not even Nell ! " 
 
 " Oh ! do not say that," replied the 
 child, " for if ever anybody was true 
 at heart, and earnest, 1 am. I am sure 
 you know I am." 
 
 " Then how," said the old man, 
 looking fearfully round, " how can you 
 bear to think that we are safe, when 
 they are searching for me everywhere, 
 and may come here, and steal upon 
 us, even while we 're talking ? " 
 
 " Because I 'm sure we have not 
 been followed," said the child. "Judge 
 for yourself dear grandfather ; look 
 round, and see how quiet and still it 
 is. We are alone together, and may 
 ramble where we like. Not safe ! 
 Could I feel easy did I feel at ease 
 when any danger threatened you ? " 
 
 " True, true," he answered, pressing 
 her hand, but still looking anxiously 
 about. " What noise was that ? " 
 
 " A bird," said the child, " flying 
 into the wood, and leading the way for 
 us to follow. You remember that we 
 said we would walk in woods and 
 fields, and by the side of rivers, and 
 how liappy we would be you remem- 
 ber that ? But here, while the sun 
 shines above our heads, and every- 
 thing is bright and happy, we are 
 sitting sadly down, and losing time. See 
 what a pleasant path ; and there 's the 
 bird the same bird now he flies to 
 another tree, and stays to sing. 
 Come ! " 
 
 When they rose up from the ground, 
 and took the shady track which led 
 them through the wood, she bounded 
 on before, printing her tiny footsteps 
 in the moss, which rose elastic from so
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 Ill 
 
 light a pressure and gave it back as 
 mirrors throw off breath ; and thus 
 she lured the old mail on, with many a 
 backward look and merry beck, now 
 pointing stealthily to some lone bird 
 as it perched and twittered on a 
 branch that strayed across their path, 
 now stopping to listen to the songs 
 that broke the happy silence, or watch 
 the sun as it trembled through the 
 leaves, and stealing hi among the ivied 
 trunks of stout old trees, opened long 
 paths of light. As they passed onward, 
 parting the boughs that clustered in 
 their way, the serenity which the child 
 had first assumed, stole into her breast 
 in earnest ; the old man cast no longer 
 fearful looks beliind, but felt at ease 
 and cheerful, for the further they 
 passed into the deep green shade, the 
 more they felt that the tranquil mind 
 of God was there, and shed its peace 
 on them. 
 
 At length the path becoming clearer 
 and less intricate, brought them to 
 the end of the woqd, and into a public 
 road. Taking their way along it for a 
 short distance, they came to a lane, so 
 shaded by the trees on either hand 
 that they met together over-head, and 
 arched the narrow way. A broken 
 finger-post announced that this led to a 
 village three miles off ; and thither 
 they resolved to bend their steps. 
 
 The miles appeared so long that 
 they sometimes thought they must 
 have missed their road. But at last, 
 to their great joy, it led downward in 
 a steep descent, with overhanging 
 banks over which the footpaths led ; 
 and the clustered houses of the village 
 peeped from the woody hollow below. 
 
 It was a very small place. The 
 men and boys were playing at cricket 
 on the green ; and as the other folks 
 were looking on, they wandered up 
 and down, uncertain where to seek a 
 humble lodging. There was but one 
 old man in the little garden before 
 his cottage, and him they were timid 
 of approaching, for he was the school- 
 master, and had " School " written up 
 over his window in black letters on a 
 white board. He was a pale, simple- 
 looking man, of a spare and meagre 
 
 habit, and sat among his flowers and 
 beehives, smoking his pipe, in the little 
 porch before his door. 
 
 " Speak to him, dear," the old man 
 whispered. 
 
 "I am almost afraid to disturb 
 him," said the child timidly. " He 
 does not seem to see us. Perhaps if 
 we wait a little, he may look this way." 
 
 They waited, but the schoolmaster 
 cast no look towards them, and still 
 sat, thoughtful and silent, in the little 
 porch. He had a kind face. In his 
 plain old suit of black, he looked pale 
 and meagre. They fancied, too, a 
 lonely air about him and his house, 
 but perhaps that was because the 
 other people formed a merry company 
 upon the green, and he seemed the 
 only solitary man in all the place. 
 
 Thny were very tired, and the child 
 would have been bold enough to 
 address even a schoolmaster, but for 
 something in his manner which seemed 
 to denote that he was uneasy or dis- 
 tressed. As they stood hesitating at a 
 little distance, they saw that he sat for 
 a few minutes at a time like one in a 
 brown study, then laid aside his pipe 
 and took a few turns in his garden, 
 then approached the gate and looked 
 towards the green, then took up his 
 pipe again with a sigh, and sat down 
 thoughtfully as before. 
 
 As nobody else appeared and it 
 would soon be dark, Nell at length 
 took courage, and when he had re- 
 sumed his pipe and seat, ventured to 
 draw near, leading her grandfather by 
 the hand. The slight noise they made 
 in raising the latch of the wicket-gate, 
 caught his attention. He looked at 
 ihem kindly but seemed disappointed 
 too, and slightly shook his head. 
 
 Nell dropped a curtsey, and told 
 him they were poor travellers who 
 sought a shelter for the night which 
 they wotdd gladly pay for, so far as 
 their means allowed. The school- 
 master looked earnestly at her as she 
 spoke, laid aside his pipe, and rose 
 up directly. 
 
 " If you could direct us anywhere, 
 sir," said the child, " we should take 
 it very kindly."
 
 112 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 "Yju have been walking a long 
 way," said the schoolmaster. 
 
 " A long way, sir," the child replied. 
 
 "You're a young traveller, my 
 child," he said, laying his hand gently 
 on her head. " Your grandchild, 
 friend?" 
 
 " Aye, sir," cried the old man, "and 
 the stay and comfort of my life." 
 
 " Come in," said the schoolmaster. 
 
 Without further preface he con- 
 ducted them into his little school-room, 
 which was parlour and kitchen like- 
 wise, and told them they were welcome 
 to remain under his roof till morning. 
 Before they had done thanking him, 
 he spread a coarse white cloth upon 
 the table, with knives and platters ; 
 and bringing out some bread and cold 
 meat and a jug of beer, besought 
 them to eat and drink. 
 
 The child looked round the room as 
 she took her seat. There were a 
 couple of forms, notched and cut and 
 inked all over ; a small deal desk 
 perched on four legs, at which no 
 doubt the master sat ; a few dog's- 
 eared books upon a high shelf ; and 
 beside them a motley collection of peg- 
 tops, balls, kites, fishing-lines, marbles, 
 half-eaten apples, and other confiscated 
 property of idle urchins. Displayed 
 on hooks upon the wall in all their 
 terrors, were the cane and ruler ; and 
 near them, on a small shelf of its own, 
 the dunce's cap, made of old news- 
 papers and decorated with glaring 
 wafers of the largest size. But, the 
 great ornaments of the walls were 
 certain moral sentences fairly copied 
 in good round text, and well-worked 
 sums in simple addition and multipli- 
 cation, evidently achieved by the same 
 hand, which were plentifully pasted all 
 round the room : for the double pur- 
 pose, as it seemed, of bearing testi- 
 mony to the excellence of the school, 
 and kindling a worthy emulation in 
 the bosoms of the scholars. 
 
 " Yes," said the old schoolmaster, 
 observing that her attention was 
 caught by these latter specimens. 
 " That 's beautiful writing, my dear." 
 " Very, sir," replied the child 
 modestly, " is it yours ? " 
 
 " Mine ! " he returned, taking out 
 his spectacles and putting them on, to 
 have a better view of the triumphs so 
 dear to his heart. " / couldn't write 
 like that, now-a-days. No. They're 
 all done by one hand ; a little hand it 
 is, not so old as yours, but a very 
 clever one." 
 
 As the schoolmaster said this, he 
 saw that a small blot of ink had been 
 thrown on one of the copies, so he 
 took a penknife from his pocket, and 
 going up to the wall, carefully scraped 
 it out. When he had finished, he 
 walked slowly backward from the 
 writing, admiring it as one might con- 
 template a beautiful picture, but with 
 something of sadness in his voice and 
 manner which quite touched the child, 
 though she was unacquainted with its 
 cause. 
 
 "A little hand indeed," said the 
 poor schoolmaster. "Far beyond all 
 his companions, in his learning and 
 his sports too, how did he ever come 
 to be so fond of me ! That I should 
 love him is no wonder, but that he 
 should love me " and there the 
 schoolmaster stopped, and took off his 
 spectacles to wipe them, as though 
 they had grown dim. 
 
 " I hope there is nothing the matter, 
 sir," said Nell anxiously. 
 
 " Not much my dear," returned the 
 schoolmaster. " I hoped to have seen 
 him on the green to-night. He was 
 always foremost among them. But 
 he '11 be there to-morrow." 
 
 "Has he been ill ?" asked the child, 
 with a child's quick sympathy. 
 
 " Not very. They said he was 
 wandering in his head yesterday, dear 
 boy, and so they said the day before. 
 But that's a part of that kind of 
 disorder ; it 's not a bad sign not at 
 all a bad sign." 
 
 The child was silent. He walked 
 to the door, and looked wistfully out. 
 The shadows of night were gathering, 
 and all was still. 
 
 " If he could lean upon anybody's 
 arm, he would come to me, 1 know," 
 he said, returning into the room. 
 " He always came into the garden to 
 say good night. But perhaps his illness
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 113 
 
 has only just taken a favourable turn, 
 and it 's too late for him to come out, 
 for it 's very damp and there's a heavy 
 dew. It's much better he shouldn't 
 come to-night." 
 
 The schoolmaster h'ghted a candle, 
 fastened the window-shutter, and closed 
 the door. But after he had done this, 
 and sat silent a little time, he took 
 down his hat, and said he would go 
 and satisfy himself, if Nell would sit 
 up till he returned. The child readily j 
 complied, and he went out. 
 
 She sat there half-an-hour or more, 
 feeling the place very strange and 
 lonely, for she had prevailed upon the 
 old man to go to bed, and there was 
 
 nothing to be heard but the ticking of 
 an old clock, and the whistling of the 
 wind among the trees. When he re- 
 turned, he took his seat in the 
 chimney-corner, but remained silent 
 for a long time. At length he turned 
 to her, and speaking very gently, 
 hoped she would say a prayer that 
 night for a sick child. 
 
 " My favourite scholar ! " said the 
 poor schoolmaster, smoking a pipe he 
 had forgotten to light, and looking 
 mournfully round upon the walls. " It 
 is a little hand to have done all that, 
 and waste away with sickness. It is a 
 very, very li ttle hand ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 AFTER a sound night's rest in a 
 chamber in the thatched roof, in which 
 it seemed the sexton had for some 
 years been a lodgei, but which he had 
 lately deserted for a wife and a cottage 
 of his own, the child rose early in the 
 morning and descended to the room 
 where she had supped last night. As 
 the schoolmaster had already left his 
 bed and gone out, she bestirred her- 
 self to make it neat and comfortable, 
 and had just finished its arrangement 
 when the kind host returned. 
 
 He thanked her many times, and 
 said that the old dame who usually did 
 such offices for him had gone to nurse 
 the little scholar whom he had told 
 her of. The child asked how he was, 
 and. hoped he was better. 
 
 "No," rejoined the schoolmaster 
 shaking his head sorrowfully, "no 
 better. They even say he is worse." 
 
 " I am very sorry for that, sir," said 
 the child. 
 
 The poor schoolmaster appeared to 
 be gratified by her earnest manner, 
 but yet rendered more uneasy by it, 
 for he added hastily that anxious 
 people often mainlined an evil and 
 
 No. 71. 
 
 thought it greater than it was ; " for 
 my part," he said, in his quiet, patient 
 way, "I hope it's not so. I don't 
 think he can be worse." 
 
 The child asked his leave to prepare 
 breakfast, and her grandfather coming 
 down stairs they all three partook of 
 it together. While the meal was in 
 progress, their host remarked that the 
 old man seemed much fatigued, and 
 evidently stood hi need of rest. 
 
 "If the journey you have before 
 you is a long one," he said, " and don't 
 press you for one day, you 're very 
 welcome to pass another night here. 
 I should really be glad if you would, 
 friend." 
 
 He saw that the old man looked 
 at Nell, uncertain whether to accept or 
 decline his offer ; and added, 
 
 " I shall be glad to have your young 
 companion with me for one day. If 
 you can do a charity to a lone man, 
 and rest yourself at the same time, 
 do so. If you must proceed upon your 
 journey, I wish you well through it, 
 and will walk a little way with you 
 before school begins. 
 
 What are we to do, Nell," said 
 
 i 8
 
 114 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 the old man irresolutely, "say what 
 we 're to do, dear." 
 
 It required no great persuasion to 
 induce the child to answer that they 
 had better accept the invitation and 
 remain. She was happy to show her 
 gratitude to the kind schoolmaster by 
 busying herself in the performance of 
 such household duties as his little 
 cottage stood in need of. When these 
 were done, she took some needle-work 
 from her basket, and sat herself down 
 upon a stool beside the lattice, where 
 the honeysuckle and woodbine en- 
 twined their tender stems, and steal- 
 ing into the room filled it with their 
 delicious breath. Her grandfather was 
 basking in the sun outside, breathing 
 the perfume of the flowers, and idly 
 watching the clouds as they floated on 
 before the light summer wind. 
 
 As the schoolmaster, after arranging 
 the two forms in due order, took his 
 seat behind his desk and made other 
 preparations for school, the child was 
 apprehensive that she might be in 
 the way, and offered to withdraw to 
 her little bedroom. But this he would 
 not allow, and as he seemed pleased to 
 have her there, she remained, busying 
 herself with her work. 
 
 " Have you many scholars, sir ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 The poor schoolmaster shook his 
 head, and said that they barely filled 
 the two forms. 
 
 " Arc the others clever, sir ? " asked 
 the child, glancing at the trophies on 
 the wall. 
 
 " Good boys," returned the school- 
 master, " good boys enough, my dear, 
 but they '11 never do like that." 
 
 A small white-headed boy with a 
 sunburnt face appeared at the door 
 while he was speaking, and stopping 
 there to make a rustic bow, came in 
 and took his seat upon one of the 
 forms. The white-headed boy then 
 put an open book, astonishingly dog's- 
 eared, upon his knees, and thrusting 
 his hands into his pockets began count- 
 ing the marbles with which they were 
 filled ; displaying in the expression of 
 his face a remarkable capacity of 
 totally abstracting his mind from the 
 
 spelling on which his eyes were fixed. 
 Soon afterwards another white-headed 
 little boy came straggling in, and after 
 him a red-headed lad, and after him 
 two more with white heads, and then 
 one with a flaxen poll, and so on until 
 the forms were occupied by a dozen 
 boys or thereabouts, with heads of 
 every colour but grey, and ranging in 
 their ages from four years old to four- 
 teen years or more ; for the legs of 
 the youngest were a long way from the 
 floor when he sat upon the form, and 
 the eldest was a heavy good-tempered 
 foolish fellow, about half a head taller 
 than the schoolmaster. 
 
 At the top of the first form the 
 post of honour in the school was the 
 vacant place of the- little sick scholar, 
 and at the head of the row of pegs on 
 which those who came in hats or caps 
 were wont to hang them up, one was 
 left empty. No boy attempted to 
 violate the sanctity of seat or peg, but 
 many a one looked from the empty 
 spaces to the schoolmaster, and whis- 
 pered his idle neighbour behind his 
 hand. 
 
 Then began the hum of conning 
 over lessons and getting them by heart, 
 the whispered jest and stealthy game, 
 and all the noise and drawl of school ; 
 and in the midst of the din sat the 
 poor schoolmaster, the very image of 
 meekness and simplicity, vainly at- 
 tempting to fix his mind upon the 
 duties of the day, and to forget his 
 little friend. But the tedium of his 
 office reminded him more strongly of 
 the willing scholar, and his thoughts 
 were rambling from his pupils it was 
 plain. 
 
 None knew this better than the 
 idlest boys, who, growing bolder with 
 impunity, waxed louder and more 
 daring ; playing odd-or-even under the 
 master's eye, eating apples openly and 
 without rebuke, pinching each other in 
 sport or malice without the least 
 reserve, and cutting their autographs 
 in the very legs of his desk. The 
 puzzled dunce, who stood beside it to 
 say his lesson out of book, looked no 
 longer at the ceiling for forgotten 
 words, but drew closer to the master's
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 elbow and boldly cast his eye upon 
 the page ; the wag of the little troop 
 squinted and made grimaces (at the 
 smallest boy of course), holding no 
 book before his face, and his approving 
 audience knew no constraint in their 
 delight. If the master did chance to 
 rouse himself and seem alive to what 
 was going on, the noise subsided for a 
 moment and no eyes met his but 
 wore a studious and a deeply humble 
 look ; but the instant he relapsed again, 
 it broke out afresh, and ten times 
 louder than before. 
 
 Oh ! how some of those idle fellows 
 longed to be outside, and how they 
 looked at the open door and window, 
 as if they half _ meditated rushing 
 violently out, plunging into the woods, 
 and being wild boys and savages from 
 that time forth. What rebellious 
 thoughts of the cool river, and some 
 shady bathing-place beneath willow 
 trees with branches dipping in the 
 water, kept tempting and urging that 
 sturdy boy, who, with his shirt-collar 
 unbuttoned and flung back as far as it 
 could go, sat fanning his flushed face 
 with a spelling-book, wishing himself 
 a whale, or a tittlebat, or a fly, or any- 
 thing but a boy at school on that hot, 
 broiling day ! Heat ! ask that other 
 boy, whose seat being nearest to the 
 door, gave him opportunities of gliding 
 out into the garden and driving his 
 companions to madness by dipping his 
 face into the bucket of the well and 
 then rolling on the grass ask him if 
 there were ever such a day as that, 
 when even the bees were diving deep 
 down into the cups of flowers and 
 stopping there, as if they had made 
 up their minds to retire from business 
 and be manufacturers of honey no 
 more. The day was made for lazi- 
 ness, and lying on one's back in green 
 places, and staring at the sky till its 
 brightness forced one to shut one's 
 eyes and go to sleep ; and was this a 
 time to be poring over musty books in 
 a dark room, slighted by the very sun 
 itself ? Monstrous ! 
 
 Nell sat by the window occupied 
 with her work, but attentive still to all 
 that passed, though sometimes rather 
 
 timid of the boisterous boys. The 
 lessons over, writing time began ; and 
 there being but one desk and that the 
 master's, each boy sat at it in turn 
 and laboured at his crooked copy, 
 while the master walked about. This 
 was a quieter time ; for he would 
 come and look over the writer's 
 shoulder, and tell him mildly to ob- 
 serve how such a letter was turned in 
 such a copy on the wall, praise such 
 an up-stroke here and such a down- 
 stroke there, and bid him take it for 
 his model. Then he would stop and 
 tell them what the sick child had said 
 last night, and how he had longed to 
 be among them once again ; and such 
 was the poor schoolmaster's gentle 
 and affectionate manner, that the boys 
 seemed quite remorseful that they had 
 worried him so much, and were abso- 
 lutely quiet ; eating no apples, cutting 
 no names, inflicting no pinches, and 
 making no grimaces, for full two 
 minutes afterwards. 
 
 "I think, boys," said the school- 
 master when the clock struck twelve, 
 "that I shall give an extra half-holiday 
 this afternoon." 
 
 At this intelligence, the boys, led on 
 and headed by the tall boy, raised a 
 great shout, in the midst of which the 
 master was seen to speak, but could 
 not be heard. As he held up his 
 hand, however, in token of his wish 
 that they should be silent, they were 
 considerate enough to leave off, as 
 soon as the longest-winded among 
 them were quite out of breath. 
 
 " You must promise me first," said 
 the schoolmaster, " that you '11 not be 
 noisy, or at least, if you are, that 
 you '11 go away and be so away out 
 of the village I mean. I 'm sure you 
 wouldn't disturb your old playmate 
 and companion," 
 
 There was a general murmur, (and 
 perhaps a very sincere one, for they 
 were but boys) in the negative ; and 
 the tall boy, perhaps as sincerely as 
 any of them, called those about him 
 to witness that he had only shouted in 
 a whisper. 
 
 "Then pray don't forget, there's 
 my dear scholars," said the school- 
 i 2
 
 116 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 master, " what I have asked you, and 
 do it as a favour to me. Be as happy 
 as you can, and don't be unmindful 
 that you are blessed with health. 
 Good bye all ! " 
 
 " Thank'ee sir," and "good bye sir," 
 were said a great many times in a 
 variety of voices, and the boys went 
 out very slowly and softly. But there 
 was the sun shining and there were 
 the birds singing, as the sun only 
 shines and the birds only sing on 
 holidays and half-holidays ; there were 
 the trees waving to all free boys to 
 climb and nestle among their leafy 
 branches ; the hay, entreating them 
 to come and scatter it to the pure air ; 
 the green corn, gently beckoning to- 
 wards wood and stream ; the smooth 
 ground, rendered smoother still by 
 blending lights and shadows, inviting 
 to runs and leaps, and long walks God 
 knows whither. It was more than boy 
 could bear, and with a joyous whoop 
 the whole cluster took to their heels 
 and spread themselves about, shouting 
 and laughing as they went. 
 
 " It 's natural, thank Heaven ! " said 
 the poor schoolmaster looking after 
 them. "I 'm very glad they didn't 
 mind me ! " 
 
 It is difficult, however, to please 
 everybody, as most of us would have 
 discovered, even without the fable 
 which bears that moral ; and in the 
 course of the afternoon several mothers 
 and aunts of pupils looked in to ex- 
 press their entire disapproval of the 
 schoolmaster's proceeding. A few 
 confined themselves to hints, such as 
 politely inquiring what red-letter day 
 or saint's day the almanack said it 
 was ; a few (these were the profound 
 village politicians) argued that it was 
 a slight to the throne and an affront to 
 church and state, and savoured of re- 
 volutionary principles, to grant a half- 
 holiday upon any lighter occasion than 
 the birth-day of the Monarch ; but the 
 majority expressed their displeasure 
 on private grounds and in plain terms, 
 arguing that to put the pupils on this 
 short allowance of learning was nothing 
 but an act of downright robbery and 
 fraud : and one old lady, finding that 
 
 she could not inflame or irritate the 
 peaceable schoolmaster by talking to 
 him, bounced out of his house and 
 talked at him for half-an-hour outside 
 his own window, to another old lady, 
 saying that of course he would deduct 
 this half-holiday from his weekly 
 charge, or of course he would natur- 
 ally expect to have an opposition 
 started against him ; there was no 
 want of idle chaps in that neighbour- 
 hood (here the old lady raised her 
 voice), and some chaps who were too 
 idle even to be schoolmasters, might 
 soon find that there were other chaps 
 put over their heads, and so she would 
 have them take care, and look pretty 
 sharp about them. But all these 
 taunts and vexations failed to elicit 
 one word from the meek schoolmaster, 
 who sat with the child by his side, a 
 little more dejected perhaps, but quite 
 silent and uncomplaining. 
 
 Towards night an old woman came 
 tottering up the garden as speedily as 
 she could, and meeting the school- 
 master at the door, said he was to go 
 to Dame West's directly, and had best 
 run on before her. He and the child 
 were on the point of going out together 
 for a walk, and without relinquishing 
 her hand, the schoolmaster hurried 
 away, leaving the messenger to follow 
 as she might. 
 
 They stopped at a cottage-door, and 
 the schoolmaster knocked softly at it 
 with his hand. It was opened without 
 loss of time. They entered a room 
 where a little group of women were 
 gathered about one, older than the 
 rest, who was crying very bitterly, 
 and sat wringing her hands and rock- 
 ing herself to and fro. 
 
 " Oh dame ! " said the schoolmaster, 
 drawing near her chair, " is it so bad 
 as this ? " 
 
 " He 's going fast," cried the old 
 woman ; "my grandson 's dying. It 's 
 all along of you. You shouldn 't see 
 him now, but for his being so earnest 
 on it. This is what his learning has 
 brought him to. Oh dear, dear, dear, 
 what can I do ! " 
 
 ' Do not gay that I am in any fault," 
 urged the gentle schoolmaster. "I
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 117 
 
 am not hurt, dame. No, no. You 
 arc in great distress of mind, and 
 don't mean what you say. I am sure 
 you don't." 
 
 "I do," returned the old woman. 
 "I mean it all. If he hadn't been 
 poring over his books out of fear of 
 you, he would have been well and 
 merry now, I know he would." 
 
 The schoolmaster looked round upon 
 the other women as if to entreat some 
 one among them to say a kind word 
 for him, but they shook their heads, 
 and murmured to each other that they 
 never thought there was much good in 
 learning, and that this convinced them. 
 Without say-ing a word in reply, or 
 giving them a look of reproach, he 
 followed the old woman who had sum- 
 moned him (and who had now rejoined 
 them) into another room, where his 
 infant friend,half-dressed, lay stretched 
 upon a bed. 
 
 He was a very young boy ; quite a 
 little child. His hair still hung in 
 curls about his face, and his eyes 
 were very bright ; but their light was 
 of Heaven, not earth. The school- 
 master took a seat beside him, and 
 stooping over the pillow, whispered 
 his name. The boy sprung up, stroked 
 his face with his hand, and threw his 
 wasted arms around his neck, crying 
 out that he was his dear kind friend. 
 
 ** I hope I always was. I meant to 
 be, God knows," said the poor school- 
 master. 
 
 " Who is that ? " said the boy, seeing 
 Nell. " I am afraid to kis her, lest 
 I should make her ill. Ask her to 
 shake hands with me." 
 
 The sobbing child came closer up, 
 and took the little languid hand in 
 hers. Releasing his again after a 
 time, the sick boy laid him gently 
 down. 
 
 " You remember the garden, Harry," 
 whispered the schoolmaster, anxious to 
 rouse him, for a dullness seemed 
 gathering upon the child, "and how 
 pleasant it used to be in the evening 
 
 time ? You must make haste to visit 
 it again, for I think the very flowers 
 have missed you, and are less gay 
 than they used to be. You will come 
 soon, my dear, very soon now, won't 
 you ? " 
 
 The boy smiled faintly so very, 
 very faintly and pu,t his hand upon 
 his friend's grey head. He moved his 
 lips too, but no voice came from them ; 
 no, not a sound. 
 
 In the silence that ensued, the hum 
 of distant voices borne upon the even- 
 ing air came floating through the open 
 window. "What's that?" said the 
 sick child, opening his eyes. 
 
 " The boys at play upon the green." 
 
 He took a handkerchief from his 
 pillow, and tried to wave it above his 
 head. But the feeble arm dropped 
 powerless down. 
 
 Shall I do it 1 " said the school- 
 master. 
 
 " Please wave it at the window," 
 was the faint reply. " Tie it to the 
 lattice. Some of them may see it 
 there. Perhaps they '11 think of me, 
 and look this way." 
 
 He raised his head, and glanced 
 from the fluttering signal to his idle 
 bat, that lay with slate and book and 
 other boyish property upon a table in 
 the room. And then he laid him 
 softly down once more, and asked if 
 the h'ttle girl were there, for he could 
 not see her. 
 
 She stepped forward, and pressed 
 the passive hand that lay upon the 
 coverlet. The two old friends and 
 companions for such they were, 
 though they were man and child 
 held each other in a long embrace, and 
 then the little scholar turned his face 
 towards the wall, and fell asleep. 
 
 The poor schoolmaster sat in the 
 same place, holding the small cold 
 hand in his, and chafing it. It was 
 but the hand of a dead child. He felt 
 that ; and yet he chafed it still, and 
 could not lay it down.
 
 118 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 ALMOST broken-hearted, Nell with- 
 drew with the schoolmaster from the 
 bedside and returned to his cottage. 
 In the midst of her grief and tears she 
 was yet careful to conceal their real 
 cause from the old man, for the dead 
 boy had been a grandchild, and left 
 but one aged relative to mourn his 
 premature decay. 
 
 She stole away to bed as quickly as 
 ehe could, and when she was alone, 
 gave free vent to the sorrow with 
 which her breast was overcharged. 
 But the sad scene she had witnessed, 
 was not without its lesson of content 
 and gratitude ; of content with the lot 
 which left her health and freedom; 
 and gratitude that she was spared to 
 the one relative and friend she loved, 
 and to live and move in a beautiful 
 world, when so many young creatures 
 as young and full of hope as she 
 were stricken down and gathered to 
 their graves. How many of the 
 mounds hi that old churchyard where 
 she had lately strayed, grew green 
 above the graves of children ! And 
 though she thought as a child herself, 
 and did not perhaps sufficiently con- 
 sider to what a bright and happy 
 existence those who die young are 
 borne, and how in death they lose the 
 pain of seeing others die around them, 
 bearing to the tomb some strong affec- 
 tion of their hearts (which makes the 
 old die many times in one long life), 
 still she thought wisely enough, to 
 draw a plain and easy moral from 
 what she had seen that night, and to 
 store it, deep in her mind. 
 
 Her dreams were of the little 
 scholar : not coffined and covered up, 
 but mingling with angels, and smiling 
 happily. The sun darting his cheerful 
 rays into the room, awoke her ; and 
 now there remained but to take leave 
 of the poor schoolmaster and wander 
 forth once more. 
 
 By the time they were ready to 
 depart, school had begun. In the 
 darkened room, the din of yesterday 
 
 was going on again : a little sobered 
 and softened down, perhaps, but only 
 a very little, if at all The school- 
 master rose from his desk and walked 
 with them to the gate. 
 
 It was with a trembling and re- 
 luctant hand, that the child held out 
 to him the money which the lady had 
 given her at the races for her flowers: 
 faltering in her thanks as she thought 
 how small the sum was, and blushing 
 as she offered it. But he bade her 
 put it up, and stooping to kiss her 
 cheek, turned back into his house. 
 
 They had not gone half-a-dozen 
 paces when he was at the door again ; 
 the old man retraced his steps to shake 
 hands, and the child did the same. 
 
 " Good fortune and happiness go 
 with you ! " said the poor school- 
 master. " I am quite a solitary man 
 now. If you ever pass this way again, 
 you '11 not forget the little village- 
 school." 
 
 " We shall never forget it, sir," 
 rejoined Nell ; " nor ever forget to be 
 grateful to you for your kindness to 
 us." 
 
 " I have heard such words from the 
 lips of children very often," said the 
 schoolmaster, shaking his head, and 
 smiling thoughtfully, " but they were 
 soon forgotten. I had attached one 
 young friend to me, the better friend 
 for being young but that's over 
 God bless you ! " 
 
 They bade him farewell very many 
 times, and turned away, walking 
 slowly and often looking back, until 
 they could see him no more. At 
 length they had left the village far 
 behind, and even lost sight of the 
 smoke among the trees. They trudged 
 onward now, at a quicker pace, re- 
 solving to keep the main road, and go 
 wherever it might lead them. 
 
 But main roads stretch a long, long 
 way. With the exception of two or 
 three inconsiderable clusters of cot- 
 tages which they passed, without 
 stopping, and one lonely road-side
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 119 
 
 public-house where they had some 
 bread and cheese, this highway had 
 led them to nothing late in the after- 
 noon and still lengthened out, far in 
 the distance, the same dull, tedious, 
 winding course, that they had been 
 pursuing all day. As they had no 
 resource, however, but to go forward, 
 they still kept on, though at a much 
 slower pace, being very weary and 
 fatigued. 
 
 The afternoon had worn away into 
 a beautiful evening, when they arrived 
 at a point where the road made a 
 sharp turn and struck across a com- 
 mon. On the border of this common, 
 and close to the hedge which divided 
 it from the cultivated fields, a caravan 
 was drawn up to rest; upon which, 
 by reason of its situation, they came 
 so suddenly that they could not have 
 avoided it if they would. 
 
 It was not a shabby, dingy, dusty 
 cart, but a smart little house upon 
 wheels, with white dimity curtains 
 festooning the windows, and window- 
 shutters of green picked out with 
 panels of a staring red, in which 
 happily-contrasted colours the whole 
 concern shone brilliant. Neither was 
 it a poor caravan drawn by a single 
 donkey or emaciated horse, for a pair 
 of horses in pretty good condition 
 were released from the shafts and 
 grazing on the frouzy grass. Neither 
 was it a gipsy caravan, for at the open 
 door (graced with a bright brass 
 knocker) sat a Christian lady, stout 
 and comfortable to look upon, who 
 wore a large bonnet trembling with 
 bows. And that it was not an unpro- 
 vided or destitute caravan was clear 
 from this lady's occupation, which 
 was the very pleasant and refreshing 
 one of taking tea. The tea-things, in- 
 cluding a bottle of rather suspicious 
 character .and a cold knuckle of ham, 
 were set.^&rth upon a drum, covered 
 with a white napkin ; and there, as if 
 at the most convenient round-table in 
 all the world, sat this roving lady, tak- 
 ing her tea and enjoying the prospect. 
 
 It happened that at that moment 
 the lady of the caravan had her cup 
 (which, that every thing about her might 
 
 be of a stout and comfortable kind, was 
 a breakfast cup) to her lips, and that 
 having her eyes lifted to the sky in her 
 enjoyment of the full flavour of the 
 tea, not unmingled possibly with just 
 the slightest dash or gleam of some- 
 thing out of the suspicious bottle but 
 this is mere speculation and not dis- 
 tinct matter of history it happened 
 that being thus agreeably engaged, she 
 did not see the travellers when they 
 first came up. It was not until she 
 was in the act of setting down the cup, 
 and di awing a long breath after the 
 exertion of causing its contents to dis- 
 appear, that the lady of the caravan 
 beheld an old man and a young child 
 walking slowly by, and glancing at her 
 proceedings with eyes of modest but 
 hungry admiration. 
 
 " Hey ! " cried the lady of the cara- 
 van, scooping the crumbs out of her 
 lap and swallowing the same before 
 wiping her lips. " Yes, to be sure. 
 Who won the Helter-Skelter Plate, 
 child ! " 
 
 " Won what, ma'am ? " asked Nell. 
 
 "The Helter-Skelter Plate at the 
 races, child the plate that was run for 
 on the second day." 
 
 " On the second day, ma'am t " 
 
 " Second day ! Yes, second day," 
 repeated the lady with an air of impa- 
 tience. K Can't you say who won the 
 Helter-Skelter Plate when you 're 
 asked the question civilly ! " 
 
 " I don't know, ma'am." 
 
 " Don't know !" repeated the lady 
 of the caravan ; " why, you were there. 
 I saw you with my own eyes." 
 
 Nell was not a little alarmed to hear 
 this, supposing that the lady might be 
 intimately acquainted with the firm of 
 Short and Codlin ; but what followed 
 tended to reassure her. 
 
 " And very sorry I was," said the 
 lady of the caravan, "to see you in 
 company with a Punch ; a low, prac- 
 tical, wulgar wretch, that people should 
 scorn to look at." 
 
 u I was not there by choice," re- 
 turned the child ; " we didn't know our 
 way, and the two men were very kind 
 to us, and let us travel with them. Do 
 you do you know them, ma'am 1 "
 
 120 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 " Know 'em, child ! " cried the lady 
 of the caravan in a sort of shriek. 
 " Know them t But you 're young and 
 inexperienced, and that 'a your excuse 
 for asking sich a question. Do I look 
 as if I know'd 'em, does the caravan 
 look as if it know'd 'em ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am, no," said the child, 
 fearing she had committed some 
 grievous fault. " I beg your pardon." 
 
 It was granted immediately, though 
 the lady still appeared much ruffled and 
 discomposed by the degrading suppo- 
 sition. The child then explained that 
 they had left the races on the first day, 
 and were travelling to the next town on 
 that road, where they purposed to 
 spend the night. As the countenance 
 of the stout lady began to clear up, she 
 ventured to inquire how far it was. 
 The reply which the stout lady did 
 not come to, until she had thoroughly 
 explained that she went to the races 
 on the first day in a gig, and as an 
 expedition of pleasure, and that her 
 presence there had no connexion with 
 any matters of business or profit was, 
 that the town was eight miles off. 
 
 This discouraging information a little 
 dashed the child, who could scarcely 
 repress a tear as she glanced along the 
 darkening road. Her grandfather 
 made no complaint, but he sighed 
 heavily as he leaned upon his staff, and 
 vainly tried to pierce the dusty dis- 
 tance. 
 
 The lady of the caravan was in the 
 act of gathering her tea equipage 
 together preparatory to clearing the 
 table, but noting the child's anxious 
 manner she hesitated and stopped. 
 The child curtseyed, thanked her for 
 her information, and giving her hand 
 to the old man had already got some 
 fifty yards or so, away, when the lady 
 of the caravan called to her to return. 
 
 "Come nearer, nearer still" said 
 she, beckoning to her to ascend the 
 steps. " Are you hungry, child ? " 
 
 " Not very, but we are tired, and 
 it ' it is a long way " 
 
 "Well, hungry or not, you had 
 better have some tea," rejoined her 
 new acquaintance. " I suppose you are 
 agreeable to that, old gentleman ! " 
 
 The grandfather humbly pulled off 
 his hat and thanked her. The lady 
 of the caravan then bade him come 
 up the steps likewise, but the drum 
 proving an inconvenient table for two, 
 they descended again, and sat upon 
 the grass, where she handed down to 
 them the tea-tray, the bread and 
 butter, the knuckle of ham, and in 
 short everything of which she had 
 partaken herself, except the bottle 
 which she had already embraced an 
 opportunity of slipping into her 
 pocket. 
 
 " Set 'em out near the hind wheels, 
 child, that 's the best place " said 
 their friend, superintending the ar- 
 rangements from above. " Now hand 
 up the teapot for a little more hot 
 water, and a pinch of fresh tea, and 
 then both of you eat and drink as 
 much as you can, and don't spare any- 
 thing ; that 's all I ask of you." 
 
 They might perhaps have carried 
 out the lady's wish, if it had been less 
 freely expressed, or even if it had not 
 been expressed at all. But as this 
 direction relieved them from any 
 shadow of delicacy or uneasiness, they 
 made a hearty meal and enjoyed it to 
 the utmost. 
 
 While they were thus engaged, the 
 lady of the caravan alighted on the 
 earth, and with her hands clasped 
 behind her, and her large bonnet 
 trembling excessively, walked up and 
 down in a measured tread and very 
 stately manner, surveying the caravan 
 from time to time with an air of calm 
 delight, and deriving particular grati- 
 fication from the red panels and the 
 brass knocker. When she had taken 
 this gentle exercise for some time, she 
 sat down upon the steps and called 
 " George ; " whereupon a man in a 
 carter's frock, who had been so 
 shrouded in a hedge up to this time 
 as to see everything that passed with- 
 out being seen himself, parted the 
 twigs that concealed him, and ap- 
 peared in a sitting attitude, support- 
 ing on his legs a baking-dish and a 
 half-gallon stone bottle, and bearing 
 in his right hand a knife, and in his 
 left a fork.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 121 
 
 " Yes, Missus " said George. 
 
 " How did you find the cold pie, 
 George ! " 
 
 " It warn't amiss, mum." 
 
 "And the beer," said the lady of 
 the caravan, with an appearance of 
 being more interested in this ques- 
 tion than the last ; " is it passable, 
 George ? " 
 
 " It 's more flatterer than it might 
 be," George returned, " but it an't so 
 bad for all that." 
 
 To set the mind of his mistress at 
 rest, he took a sip (amounting in 
 quantity to a pint or thereabouts) 
 from the stone bottle, and then 
 smacked his lips, winked his eye, and 
 nodded his head. No doubt with the 
 same amiable desire, he immediately 
 resumed his knife and fork, as a 
 practical assurance that the beer 
 had wrought no bad effect upon his 
 appetite. 
 
 The lady of the caravan looked on 
 approvingly for some time, and then 
 said, 
 
 " Have you nearly finished ! " 
 
 " Wery nigh, Mum." And indeed, 
 after scraping the dish all round with 
 his knife and carrying the choice 
 brown morsels to his mouth, and after 
 taking such a scientific pull at the stone 
 bottle that, by degrees almost imper- 
 ceptible to the sight, his head went 
 further and further back until he lay 
 nearly at his full length upon the 
 ground, this gentleman declared him- 
 self quite disengaged, and came forth 
 from his retreat. 
 
 "I hope I haven't hurried you, 
 George," said his mistress, who ap- 
 peared to have a great sympathy with 
 his late pursuit. 
 
 "If you have," returned the fol- 
 lower, wisely reserving himself for 
 any favourable contingency that might 
 occur, " we must make up for it next 
 time, that 's all." 
 
 " We are not a heavy load, 
 George ? " 
 
 " That 's always what the ladies 
 say," replied the man, looking a long 
 way round, as if he were appealing to 
 Nature in general against such mon- 
 strous propositions. "If you see a 
 
 woman a driving, you'll always per- 
 ceive that she never will keep her 
 whip still ; the horse can't go fast 
 enough for her. If cattle have got 
 their proper load, you never can 
 persuade a woman that they '11 not 
 bear something more. What is the 
 cause of this here ! " 
 
 " Would these two travellers make 
 much difference to the horses, if we 
 took them with us ? " asked his mis- 
 tress, offering no reply to the philo- 
 sophical inquiry, and pointing to Nell 
 and the old man who were painfully 
 preparing to resume their journey on 
 foot. 
 
 " They 'd make a difference in 
 course," said George doggedly. 
 
 " Would they make much differ- 
 ence?" repeated his mistress. "They 
 can't be very heavy." 
 
 "The weight o' the pair, Mum," 
 said George, eyeing them with the 
 look of a man who was calculating 
 within half an ounce or so, "would 
 be a trifle under that of Oliver 
 Cromwell. 
 
 Nell was very much surprised that 
 the man should be so accurately 
 acquainted with the weight of one 
 whom she had read of in books as 
 having lived considerably before their 
 time, but speedily forgot the subject 
 in the joy of hearing that they were 
 to go forward in the caravan, for 
 which she thanked its lady with 
 unaffected earnestness. She helped 
 with great readiness and alacrity to 
 put away the tea-things and other 
 matters that were lying about, and, 
 the horses being by that time har- 
 nessed, mounted into the vehicle, 
 followed by her delighted grandfather. 
 Their patroness then shut the dooi 
 and sat herself down by her drum a< 
 an open window ; and, the steps 
 being struck by George and stowed 
 under the carriage, away they went, 
 with a great noise of flapping and 
 creaking and straining ; and the 
 bright brass knocker, which nobody 
 ever knocked at, knocking one per- 
 petual double knock of its own accord 
 as they jolted heavily along.
 
 122 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 WHEN they had travelled slowly 
 forward for some short distance, Nell 
 ventured to steal a look round the 
 caravan and observe it more closely. 
 One half of it that moiety in which 
 the comfortable proprietress was then 
 seated was carpeted, and so par- 
 titioned off at the further end as to 
 accommodate a sleeping-place, con- 
 structed after the fashion of a berth 
 on board ship, which was shaded, like 
 the little windows, with fair white cur- 
 tains, and looked comfortable enough, 
 though by what kind of gymnastic 
 exercise the lady of the caravan ever 
 contrived to get into it, was an un- 
 fathomable mystery. The other half 
 served for a kitchen, and was fitted up 
 with a stove whose small chimney 
 passed through the roof. It held also 
 a closet or larder, several chests, a 
 great pitcher of water, and a few cook- 
 ing-utensils and articles of crockery. 
 These latter necessaries hung upon 
 the walls, which, in that portion of the 
 establishment devoted to the lady of 
 the caravan, were ornamented with 
 such gayer and lighter decorations as a 
 triangle and a couple of well-thumbed 
 tambourines. 
 
 The lady of the caravan sat at one 
 window in all the pride and poetry of 
 the musical instruments, and little 
 Nell and her grandfather sat at the 
 other in all the humility of the kettle 
 and saucepans, while the machine 
 jogged on and shifted the darkening 
 prospect very slowly. At first the two 
 travellers spoke little, and only in 
 whispers, but as they grew more 
 familiar with the place they ventured 
 to converse with greater freedom, and 
 talked about the country through 
 which they were passing, and the 
 different objects that presented them- 
 selves, until the old man fell asleep ; 
 which the lady of the caravan observ- 
 ing, invited Nell to come and sit beside 
 her. 
 
 "Well, child," she said, "how do 
 you like this way of travelling ? " 
 
 Nell replied that she thought it was 
 very pleasant indeed, to which the 
 lady assented in the case of people 
 who had their spirits. For herself, 
 she said, she was troubled with a low- 
 ness in that respect which required a 
 constant stimulant ; though whether 
 the aforesaid stimulant was derived 
 from the suspicious bottle of which 
 mention has been already made, or 
 from other sources, she did not say. 
 
 " That 's the happiness of you young 
 people," she continued. "You don't 
 know what it is to be low in your feel- 
 ings. You always have your appetites 
 too, and what a comfort that is." 
 
 Nell thought that she could some- 
 times dispense with her own appetite 
 very conveniently ; and thought, more- 
 over, that there was nothing either in 
 the lady's personal appearance or in 
 her manner of taking tea, to lead to 
 the conclusion that her natural relish 
 for meat and drink had at all failed 
 her. She silently assented, however, 
 as in duty bound, to what the lady had 
 said, and waited until she should speak 
 again. 
 
 Instead of speaking, however, she 
 sat looking at the child for a long time 
 in silence, and then getting up, brought 
 out from a corner a large roll of canvas 
 about a yard in width, which she laid 
 upon the floor and spread open with 
 her foot until it nearly reached from 
 one end of the caravan to the other. 
 
 " There, child," she said, " read 
 that." 
 
 Nell walked down it, and read aloud, 
 in enormous black letters, the inscrip- 
 tion, "JARLEY'S WAX- WORK." 
 
 " Read it again," said the lady, 
 complacently. 
 
 " Jarley's Wax- Work," repeated 
 Nell. 
 
 "That's me," said the lady. "I 
 am Mrs. Jarley." 
 
 Giving the child an encouraging 
 look, intended to reassure her and let 
 her know, that, although she stood in 
 the presence of the original Jarley, she
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 123 
 
 must not allow herself to be utterly 
 overwhelmed and borne down, the 
 lady of the caravan unfolded another 
 scroll, whereon was the inscription, 
 " One hundred figures the full size of 
 life," and then another scroll, on which 
 was written, " The only stupendous 
 collection of real wax-work in the 
 world," and then several smaller 
 scrolls with such inscriptions as " Now 
 exhibiting within" " The genuine and 
 only Jarley" "Jarley's unrivalled 
 collection" Jarley is the delight of 
 the Nobility and Gentry" "The 
 Royal Family are the patrons of Jar- 
 ley." When she had exhibited these 
 leviathans of public announcement to 
 the astonished child, she brought forth 
 specimens of the lesser fry in the 
 shape of hand-bills, some of which 
 were couched in the form of parodies 
 on popular melodies, as " Believe me 
 if all Jarley's wax-work so rare" "I 
 saw thy show hi youthful prime" 
 " Over the water to Jarley ;" while, 
 to consult all tastes, others were com- 
 posed with a view to the lighter and 
 more facetious spirits, as a parody on 
 the favourite air of " If I had a don- 
 key," beginning 
 
 If I know'd a donkey wot wouldn't go 
 To see Mrs. J ABLET'S wax-work show 
 Do you think I 'd acknowledge him ? 
 Oh no no ! 
 
 Then run to Jarley's 
 
 besides several compositions in 
 prose, purporting to be dialogues 
 between the Emperor of China and an 
 oyster, or the Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury and a dissenter on the subject of 
 church-rates, but all having the same 
 moral, namely, that the reader must 
 make haste to Jarley's, and that chil- 
 dren and servants were admitted at 
 half-price. When she had brought all 
 these testimonials of her important 
 position in society to bear upon her 
 young companion, Mrs. Jarley rolled 
 them up, and having put them care- 
 fully away, sat down again, and looked 
 at the child in triumph. 
 
 " Never go into the company of a 
 filthy Punch any more," said Mrs. 
 Jarley, " after this." 
 
 " I never saw any wax-work, 
 ma'am," said Nell. " Is it funnier than 
 Punch?" 
 
 " Funnier ! " said Mrs. Jarley in a 
 shrill voice. " It is not funny at all." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Nell, with all possible 
 humility. 
 
 " It isn't funny at all," repeated 
 Mri,. Jarley. " It 's calm and what 's 
 that word again critical ! no clas- 
 sical, that 's it it 's calm and classical. 
 No low beatings and knockings about, 
 no jokings and squeakings like your 
 precious Punches, but always the 
 same, with a constantly unchanging 
 air of coldness and gentility ; and so 
 like life, that if wax-work only spoke 
 and walked about, you 'd hardly know 
 the difference. I won't go so far as 
 to say, that, as it is, I 've seen wax- 
 work quite like life, but I 've certainly 
 seen some life that was exactly like 
 wax-work." 
 
 " Is it here, ma'am ? " asked Nell, 
 whose curiosity was awakened by this 
 description. 
 
 Is what here, child ! " 
 
 " The wax-work, ma'am." 
 
 "Why, bless you, child, what are 
 you thinking of how could such a 
 collection be here, where you see 
 everything except the inside of one 
 little cupboard and a few boxes ? It 's 
 gone on in the other wans to the 
 assembly-rooms, and there it '11 be 
 exhibited the day after to-morrow. 
 You are going to the same town, and 
 you '11 see it I dare say. It's natural 
 to expect that you '11 see it, and I 've 
 no doubt you will. I suppose you 
 couldn't stop away if you was to try 
 ever so much." 
 
 " I shall not be in the town, I think, 
 ma'am," said the child. 
 
 " Not there ! " cried Mrs. Jarley. 
 " Then where will you be ? " 
 
 "I I don't quite know. I am 
 not certain." 
 
 " You don't mean to say that you 're 
 travelling about the country without 
 knowing where you 're going to ! " 
 said the lady of the caravan. " What 
 curious people you are ! What line 
 are you in ! You looked to me at the 
 races, child, as if you were quite out
 
 124 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP 
 
 of your element, and had got there by 
 accident." 
 
 We were there quite by accident," 
 returned Nell, confused by this abrupt 
 questioning. "We are poor people, 
 ma'am, and are only wandering about. 
 We have nothing to do ; I wish we 
 had." 
 
 " You amaze me more and more," 
 said Mrs. Jarley, after remaining for 
 some time as mute as one of her own 
 figures. " Why, what do you call 
 yourselves I Not beggars ? " 
 
 " Indeed, ma'am, I don't know what 
 else we are," returned the child. 
 
 "Lord bless me," said the lady of 
 the caravan. " I never heard of such 
 a thing. Who 'd have thought it ! " 
 
 She remained so long silent after 
 this exclamation, that Nell feared she 
 felt her having been induced to bestow 
 her protection and conversation upon 
 one so poor, to be an outrage upon 
 her dignity that nothing could repair. 
 This persuasion was rather confirmed 
 than otherwise by the tone in which 
 she at length broke silence and 
 said, 
 
 "And yet you can read. And write 
 too, I shouldn't wonder ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," said the child, fear- 
 ful of giving new offence by the 
 confession. 
 
 " Well, and what a thing that is," 
 returned Mrs. Jarley. " / can't ! " 
 
 Nell said " indeed " in a tone which 
 mifjht imply, either that she was rea- 
 sonably surprised to find the genuine 
 and only Jarley, who was the delight 
 of the Nobility and Gentry and the 
 peculiar pet of the Royal Family, des- 
 titute of these familiar arts ; or that 
 she presumed so great a lady could 
 scarcely stand in need of such ordi- 
 nary accomplishments. In whatever 
 way Mrs. Jarley received the response, 
 it did not provoke her to further 
 questioning, or tempt her into any 
 more remarks at the time, for she 
 relapsed into a thoughtful silence, and 
 remained in that state so long that 
 Nell withdrew to the other window 
 and rejoined her grandfather, who 
 was now awake. 
 
 At length the lady of the caravan 
 
 shook off her fit of meditation, and, 
 summoning the driver to come under 
 the window at which she was seated, 
 held a long conversation with him in 
 a low tone of voice, as if she were 
 asking his advice on an important 
 point, and discussing the pros and cons 
 of some very weighty matter. This 
 conference at length concluded, she 
 drew in her head again, and beckoned 
 Nell to approach. 
 
 " And the old gentleman too," said 
 Mrs. Jarley ; " for I want to have a 
 word with him. Do you want a good 
 situation for your grand -daughter, 
 master ? If you do, I can put her in 
 the way of getting one. What do you 
 say?" 
 
 "I can't leave her," answered the 
 old man. " We can't separate. What 
 would become of me without her ! " 
 
 " I should have thought you were 
 old enough to take care of yourself, if 
 you ever will be," retorted Mrs. Jarley 
 sharply. 
 
 "But he never will be," said the 
 child in an earnest whisper. " I fear 
 he never will be again. Pray do not 
 speak harshly to him. We are very 
 thankful to you," she added aloud ; 
 " but neither of us could part from the 
 other if all the wealth of the world 
 were halved between us." 
 
 Mrs. Jarley was a little disconcerted 
 by this reception of her proposal, and 
 looked at the old man, who tenderly 
 took Nell's hand and detained it in his 
 own, as if she could have very well 
 dispensed with his company or even 
 his earthly existence. After an awk- 
 ward pause, she thrust her head out of 
 the window again, and had another 
 conference with the driver upon some 
 point on which they did not seem to 
 agree quite so readily as on their 
 former topic of discussion ; but they 
 concluded at last, and she addressed 
 the grandfather again. 
 
 "If you're really disposed to em- 
 ploy yourself," said Mrs. Jarley, 
 " there would be plenty for you to do 
 in the way of helping to dust the 
 figures, and take the checks, and so 
 forth. What I want your grand- 
 daughter for, is to point 'em out to the
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 125 
 
 company ; they would be soon learnt, 
 and she has a way with her that 
 people wouldn't think unpleasant, 
 though she does come after me ; for 
 I 've been always accustomed to go 
 round with visitors myself, which I 
 should keep on doing now, only that 
 my spirits make a little ease absolutely 
 necessary. It's not a common offer, 
 bear in mind," said the lady, rising 
 into the tone and manner in which 
 she was accustomed to address her 
 audiences ; " it 's Jarley's wax-work, 
 remember. The duty 's very light and 
 genteel, the company particular select, 
 the exhibition takes place in assembly 
 rooms, town-halls, large rooms at inns, 
 or auction galleries. There is none of 
 your open-air wagrancy at Jarley's, 
 recollect ; there is no tarpaulin and 
 sawdust at Jarley's, remember. Every 
 expectation held out in the handbills 
 is realised to the utmost, and the 
 whole forms an effect of imposing 
 brilliancy hitherto unrivalled in this 
 kingdom. Remember that the price 
 of admission is only sixpence, and that 
 this is an opportunity which may 
 never occur again ! " 
 
 Descending from the sublime when 
 she had reached this point, to the 
 details of common life, Mrs. Jarley 
 remarked that with reference to salary 
 she could pledge herself to no specific 
 sum until she had sufficiently tested 
 Nell's abilities, and narrowly watched 
 her in the performance of her duties. 
 But board and lodging, both for her 
 and her grandfather, she bound her- 
 self to provide, and she furthermore 
 passed her word that the board should 
 always be good in quality, and in 
 quantity plentiful. 
 
 Nell and her grandfather consulted 
 together, and while they were so en- 
 gaged, Mrs. Jarley with her hands 
 behind her walked up and down the 
 caravan, as she had walked after tea 
 on the dull earth, with uncommon 
 dignity and self-esteem. Nor will this 
 appear so slight a circumstance as to 
 be unworthy of mention, when it is 
 remembered that the caravan was in 
 uneasy motion all the time, and that 
 none but a person of great natural 
 
 stateliness and acquired grace could 
 have forborne to stagger. 
 
 " Now, child," cried Mrs. Jarley, 
 coming to a halt as Nell turned 
 towards her. 
 
 " We are very much obliged to you, 
 ma'am," said Nell, "and thankfully 
 accept your offer." 
 
 " And you '11 never be sorry for it," 
 returned Mrs. Jarley. " I 'm pretty 
 sure of that. So as that 's all settled, 
 let us have a bit of supper." 
 
 In the meanwhile, the caravan 
 blundered on as if it too had been 
 drinking strong beer and was drowsy, 
 and came at last upon the paved 
 streets of a town which were clear of 
 passengers, and quiet, for it was by 
 this time near midnight and the towns- 
 people were all abed. As it was too 
 late an hour to repair to the exhibi- 
 tion room, they turned aside into a 
 piece of waste ground that lay just 
 within the old town-gate, and drew up 
 there for the night, near to another- 
 caravan, which, notwithstanding that 
 it bore on the lawful panel the great 
 name of Jarley, and was employed 
 besides in conveying from place to 
 place the wax-work which was its- 
 country's pride, was designated by a 
 grovelling stamp-office as a " Common 
 Stage Waggon," and numbered too 
 seven thousand odd hundred as 
 though its precious freight were mere 
 flour or coals ! 
 
 This ill-used machine being empty 
 (for it had deposited its burden at the 
 place of exhibition, and lingered here 
 until its services were again required) 
 was assigned to the old man as his 
 sleeping-place for the night ; and 
 within its wooden walls, Nell made 
 him up the best bed she could, from 
 the materials at hand. For herself, 
 she was to sleep in Mrs. Jarley's own 
 travelling-carriage, as a signal mark of 
 that lady's favour and confidence. 
 
 She had taken leave of her grand- 
 father and was returning to the other 
 waggon, when she was tempted by the 
 pleasant coolness of the night to linger 
 for a little while in the air. The 
 moon was shining down upon the old 
 gateway of the town, leaving the low
 
 126 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 archway very black and dark ; and 
 with a mingled sensation of curiosity 
 and fear, she slowly approached the 
 gate, and stood still to look up at it, 
 wondering to see how dark, and grim, 
 and old, and cold, it looked. 
 
 There was an empty niche from 
 which some old statue had fallen or 
 been carried away hundreds of years 
 ago, and she was thinking what strange 
 people it must have looked down upon 
 when it stood there, and how many 
 hard struggles might have taken place, 
 and how many murders might have 
 been done, upon that silent spot, when 
 there suddenly emerged from the black 
 shade of the arch, a man. The instant 
 he appeared, she recognised him 
 Who could have failed to recognise, in 
 that instant, the ugly mis-shapen Quilp ! 
 
 The street beyond was so narrow, 
 and the shadow of the houses on one 
 side of the way so deep, that he 
 seemed to have risen out of the earth. 
 But there he was. The child with- 
 drew into a dark corner, and saw him 
 pass close to her. He had a stick in 
 his hand, and, when he had got clear 
 of the shadow of the gateway, he leant 
 upon it, looked back directly, as it 
 seemed, towards where she stood 
 and beckoned. 
 
 To her? oh no, thank God, not to 
 her ; for as she stood, in an extremity 
 of fear, hesitating whether to scream 
 for help, or come from her hiding- 
 place and fly, before he should draw 
 nearer, there issued slowly forth from 
 the arch another figure that of a boy 
 who carried on his back a trunk. 
 
 Faster, sirrah ! " said Quilp, look- 
 ing up at the old gateway, and showing 
 in the moonlight like some monstrous 
 image that had come down from its 
 niche and was casting a backward 
 glance at its old house, " faster ! " 
 
 " It 's a dreadful heavy load, sir," 
 the boy pleaded. " I 've come on very 
 fast, considering." 
 
 " You have come fast, considering !" 
 retorted Quilp ; " you creep, you dog, 
 you crawl, you measure distance like 
 a worm. There are the chimes now, 
 half-past twelve." 
 
 He stopped to listen, and then turn- 
 
 ing upon the boy with a suddenness 
 and ferocity that made him start, 
 asked at what hour that London coach 
 passed thn corner of the road. The 
 boy replied, at one. 
 
 "Come on then," said Quilp, "or 
 I shall be too late. Faster do you 
 hear me ? Faster." 
 
 The boy made all the speed he could, 
 and Quilp led onward, constantly turn- 
 ing back to threaten him, and urge him 
 to greater haste. Nell did not dare to 
 move until they were out of sight and 
 hearing, and then hurried to where she 
 had left her grandfather, feeling as if 
 the very passing of the dwarf so near 
 him must have filled him with alarm 
 and terror. But he was sleeping 
 soundly, and she softly withdrew. 
 
 As she was making her way to her 
 own bed, she determined to say nothing 
 of this adventure, as upon whatever 
 errand the dwarf had come (and she 
 feared it must have been in search of 
 them) it was clear by his inquiry about 
 the London coach that he was on his 
 way homeward, and as he had passed 
 through that place, it was but reason- 
 able to suppose that they were safer 
 from his inquiries there, than they 
 could be elsewhere. These reflections 
 did not remove her own alarm, for she 
 had been too much terrified to be 
 easily composed, and felt as if she were 
 hemmed in by a legion of Quilps, and 
 the very air itself were filled with 
 them. 
 
 The delight of the Nobility and 
 Gentry and the patronised of Royalty 
 had, by some process of self -abridg- 
 ment known only to herself, got into 
 her travelling bed, where she was 
 snoring peacefully, while the large 
 bonnet, carefully disposed upon the 
 drum, was revealing its glories by the 
 light of a dim lamp that swung from 
 the roof. The child's bed was already 
 made upon the floor, and it was a great 
 comfort to her to hear the steps 
 removed as soon as she had entered, 
 and to know that all easy communica- 
 tion between persons outside and the 
 brass knocker was by this means effec- 
 tually prevented. Certain guttural 
 sounds, too, which from time to time
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 127 
 
 ascended through the floor of the cara- 
 van, and a rustling of straw in the 
 same direction, apprised her that the 
 driver was couched upon the ground 
 beneath, and gave her an additional 
 feeling of security. 
 
 Notwithstanding these protections, 
 she could get none but broken sleep 
 by fits and starts all night, for fear of 
 Quilp, who throughout her uneasy 
 dreams was somehow connected with 
 
 the wax-work, or was wax-work him- 
 self, or was Mrs. Jarley and wax-work 
 too, or was himself, Mrs. Jarley, wax- 
 work, and a barrel organ all in one, 
 and yet not exactly any of them either. 
 At length, towards break of day, that 
 deep sleep came upon her which suc- 
 ceeds to weariness and over-watching, 
 and which has no consciousness but 
 one of overpowering and irresistible 
 enjoyment. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 SLEEP hung upon the eyelids of the 
 child so long, that, when she awoke, 
 Mrs. Jarley was already decorated 
 with her large bonnet, and actively 
 engaged in preparing breakfast. She 
 received Nell's apology for being so 
 late with perfect good-humour, and 
 said that she should not have roused 
 her if she had slept on until noon. 
 
 " Because it does you good," said 
 the lady of the caravan, " when you 're 
 tired, to sleep as long as ever you can, 
 and get the fatigue quite off ; and 
 that 's another blessing of your time of 
 life you can sleep so very sound." 
 
 " Have you had a bad night, ma'am ? " 
 asked NelL 
 
 " I seldom have anything else, 
 child," replied Mrs. Jarley, with the 
 air of a martyr. " I sometimes won- 
 der how I bear it." 
 
 Remembering the snores which had 
 proceeded from that cleft hi the cara- 
 van in which the proprietress of the 
 wax- work passed the night, Nell rather 
 thought she must have been dreaming 
 of lying awake. However, she ex- 
 pressed herself very sorry to hear such 
 a dismal account of her state of health, 
 and shortly afterwards sat down with 
 her grandfather and Mrs. Jarley to 
 breakfast. The meal finished, Nell 
 assisted to wash the cups and saucers, 
 and put them in their proper places, 
 and these household duties performed, 
 
 Mrs. Jarley arrayed herself in an ex- 
 ceedingly bright shawl for the purpose 
 of making a progress through the 
 streets of the town. 
 
 " The wan will come on to bring the 
 boxes," said Mrs. Jarley, "and you 
 had better come in it, child. I am 
 obliged to walk, very much against my 
 will ; but the people expect it of me, 
 and public characters can't be their 
 own masters and mistresses in such 
 matters as these. How do I look, 
 child?" 
 
 Nell returned a satisfactory reply, 
 and Mrs. Jarley, after sticking a great 
 many pins into various parts of her 
 figure, and making several abortive 
 attempts to obtain a full view of her 
 own back, was at last satisfied with her 
 appearance, and went forth majesti- 
 cally. 
 
 The caravan followed at no great 
 distance. As it went jolting through 
 the streets, Nell peeped from the win- 
 dow, curious to see in what kind of 
 place they were, and yet fearful of 
 encountering at every turn the dreaded 
 face of Quilp. It was a pretty large 
 town, with an open square which they 
 were crawling slowly across, and in 
 the middle of which was the Town- 
 Hall, with a clock-tower and a weather- 
 cock. There were houses of stone, 
 houses of red brick, houses of yellow 
 brick, houses of lath and plaster ; and
 
 128 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 houses of wood, many of them very 
 old, with withered faces carved upon 
 the beams, and staring down into the 
 street. These had very little winking 
 windows, and low-arched doors, and, 
 in some of the narrower ways, quite 
 overhung the pavement. The streets 
 were very clean, very sunny, very 
 empty, and very dull. A few idle 
 men lounged about the two inns, and 
 the empty market-place, and the 
 tradesmen's doors, and some old people 
 were dozing in chairs outside an alms- 
 house wall ; but scarcely any pas- 
 sengers who seemed bent on going 
 anywhere, or to have any object in 
 view, went by ; and if perchance some 
 straggler did, his footsteps echoed on 
 the hot bright pavement for minutes 
 afterwards. Nothing seemed to be 
 going on but the clocks, and they had 
 such drowsy faces, such heavy lazy 
 hands, and such cracked voices, that 
 they surely must have been too slow. 
 The very dogs were all asleep, and the 
 flies, drunk with moist sugar in the 
 grocer's shop, forgot their wings and 
 briskness, and baked to death in dusty 
 corners of the window. 
 
 Rumbling along with most un- 
 wonted noise, the caravan stopped at 
 last at the place of exhibition, where 
 Nell dismounted amidst an admiring 
 group of children, who evidently sup- 
 posed her to be an important item of 
 the curiosities, and were fully im- 
 pressed with the belief that her grand- 
 father was a cunning device in wax. 
 The chests were taken out with all 
 convenient despatch, and taken in to 
 be unlocked by Mrs. Jarley, who, 
 attended by George and another man 
 in velveteen shorts and a drab hat 
 ornamented with turnpike tickets, 
 were waiting to dispose their contents 
 (consisting of red festoons and other 
 ornamental devices in upholstery 
 work) to the best advantage in the 
 decoration of the room. 
 
 They all got to work without loss 
 of time, and very busy they were. 
 As the stupendous collection were yet 
 concealed by cloths, lest the envious 
 dust should injure their complexions, 
 Nell bestirred herself to assist in the 
 
 embellishment of- the room, in which 
 her grandfather also was of great 
 service. The two men being well 
 used to it, did a great deal in a short 
 time ; and Mrs, Jarley served out the 
 tin tacks from a linen pocket like a 
 toll-collector's which she wore for the 
 purpose, and encouraged her assist- 
 ants to renewed exertion. 
 
 While they were thus employed, a 
 tallish gentleman with a hook nose 
 and black hair, dressed in a military 
 surtout very short and tight in the 
 sleeves, and which had once been 
 frogged and braided all over, but was 
 now sadly shorn of its garniture and 
 quite threadbare dressed too hi 
 ancient grey pantaloons fitting tight 
 to the leg, and a pair of pumps in the 
 winter of their existence looked in 
 at the door, and smiled affably. Mrs. 
 Jarley's back being then towards 
 him, the military gentleman shook 
 his fore-finger as a sign that her 
 myrmidons were not to apprise her 
 of his presence, and stealing up close 
 behind her, tapped her on the neck, 
 and cried playfully " Boh ! " 
 
 " What, Mr. Slum ! " cried the 
 lady of the wax- work. " Lor ! whb'd 
 have thought of seeing you here ! " 
 
 "'Pon my soul and honour," said 
 Mr. Slum, " that 's a good remark. 
 'Pou my soul and honour that 's a 
 wise remark. Who would have 
 thought it ! George, my faithful 
 feller, how are you 1 " 
 
 George received this advance with 
 a surly indifference, observing that 
 he was well enough for the matter 
 of that, and hammering lustily all the 
 time. 
 
 " I came here," said the military 
 gentleman turning to Mrs. Jarley, 
 " 'pon my soul and honour I hardly 
 know what I came, here for. It 
 would puzzle me to tell you, it would 
 by Gad. I wanted a little inspiration, 
 a little freshening up, a little change 
 
 of ideas, and 'Pon my soul and 
 
 honour," said the military gentleman, 
 checking himself and looking round 
 the room, "what a devilish classical 
 thing this is! By Gad, it's quite 
 Minervian ! "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 129 
 
 "It'll look well enough when it 
 comes to be finished," observed Mrs. 
 Jarley. 
 
 " Well enough ! " said Mr. Slum. 
 " Will you believe me when I say 
 it's the delight of my life to have 
 dabbled hi poetry, when I think I 've 
 exercised my pen upon this charming 
 theme ? By the way any orders ? Is 
 there any little thing I can do for you I " 
 
 lc It comes so very expensive, sir," 
 replied Mrs. Jarley, "and I really 
 don't think it does much good." 
 
 " Hush ! No, no ! " returned Mr. 
 Slum, elevating his hand. " No fibs. 
 I '11 not hear it. Don't say it don't 
 do good. Don't say it. I know 
 better ! " 
 
 " I don't think it does," said Mrs. 
 Jarley. 
 
 Ha, ha ! " cried Mr. Slum, 
 " you 're giving way, you 're coming 
 down. Ask the perfumers, ask the 
 blacking-makers, ask the hatters, ask 
 the old lottery-office-keepers ask 
 any man among 'em what my poetry 
 has done for him, and mark my 
 words, he blesses the name of Slum. 
 If he 's an honest man, he raises his 
 eyes to heaven, and blesses the name 
 of Slum mark that ! You are 
 acquainted with Westminster Abbey, 
 Mrs. Jarley ? " 
 
 " Yes, surely." 
 
 " Then upon my soul and honour, 
 ma'am, you '11 find in a certain angle 
 of that dreary pile, called Poets' 
 Corner, a few smaller names than 
 Slum," retorted that gentleman, tap- 
 ping himself expressively on the fore- 
 head to imply that there was some 
 slight quantity of brains behind it. 
 "I've got a little trifle here, now," 
 said Mr. Slum, taking off his hat 
 which was full of scraps of paper, 
 " a little trifle here, thrown off in the 
 heat of the moment, which I should 
 say was exactly the thing you wanted 
 to set this place on fire with. It 's an 
 acrostic the name at this moment 
 is Warren, but the idea's a conver- 
 tible one, and a positive inspiration 
 for Jarley. Have the acrostic." 
 
 " I suppose it 's very dear," said 
 Mrs. Jarley. 
 
 No. 72. 
 
 " Five shillings," returned Mr. 
 Slum, using his pencil as a tooth-pick. 
 " Cheaper than any prose." 
 
 " I couldn't give more than three," 
 said Mrs. Jarley. 
 
 " And six," retorted Slum. 
 " Come. Three-and-six." 
 
 Mrs. Jarley was not proof against 
 the poet's insinuating manner, and 
 Mr. Slum entered the order in a 
 small note-book as a three-and-six- 
 penny one. Mr. Slum then withdrew 
 to alter the acrostic, after taking a 
 most affectionate leave of his patroness, 
 and promising to return, as soon as 
 he possibly could, with a fair copy for 
 the printer. 
 
 As his presence had not interfered 
 with or interrupted the preparations, 
 they were now far advanced, and 
 were completed shortly after his 
 departure. When the festoons were 
 all put up as tastily as they might 
 be, the stupendous collection was un- 
 covered, and there were displayed, 
 on a raised platform some two feet 
 from the floor, running round the 
 room and parted from the rude public 
 by a crimson rope breast high, divers 
 sprightly effigies of celebrated cha- 
 racters, singly and in groups, clad in 
 glittering dresses of various climes 
 and times, and standing more or less 
 unsteadily upon their legs, with their 
 eyes very wide open, and their 
 nostrils very much inflated, and the 
 muscles of their legs and arms very 
 strongly developed, and all their 
 countenances expressing great sur- 
 prise. All the gentlemen were very 
 pigeon-breasted and very blue about 
 the beards ; and all the ladies were 
 miraculous figures ; and all the 
 ladies and all the gentlemen were 
 looking intensely nowhere, and staring 
 with extraordinary earnestness at 
 nothing. 
 
 When Nell had exhausted her first 
 raptures at this glorious sight, Mrs. 
 Jarley ordered the room to be cleared 
 of all but herself and the child, and, 
 sitting herself down in an arm-chair 
 in the centre, formally invested Nell 
 with a willow wand, long used by her- 
 self for pointing out the characters, 
 K 9
 
 130 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 and was at great pains to instruct her 
 in her duty. 
 
 "That," said Mrs. Jarley in her 
 exhibition tone, as Nell touched a 
 figure at the beginning of the plat- 
 form, " is an unfortunate Maid of 
 Honour in the Time of Queen Eliza- 
 beth, who died from pricking her 
 linger in consequence of working upon 
 a Sunday. Observe the blood which 
 is trickling from her finger ; also the 
 gold-eyed needle of the period, with 
 which she is at work." 
 
 All this, Nell repeated twice or 
 thrice : pointing to the finger and the 
 needle at the right times : and then 
 passed on to the next. 
 
 " That, ladies and gentlemen," said 
 Mrs. Jarley, " is Jasper Packlemerton 
 of atrocious memory, who courted and 
 married fourteen wives, and destroyed 
 them all, by tickling the soles of their 
 feet when they was sleeping in the 
 consciousness of innocence and virtue. 
 On being brought to the scaffold and 
 asked if he was sorry for what he had 
 done, he replied yes, he was sorry for 
 having let 'em oft' so easy, and hoped 
 all Christian husbands would pardon 
 him the offence. Let this be a warn- 
 ing to all young ladies to be particular 
 in the character of the gentlemen of 
 their choice. Observe that his fingers 
 are curled as if in the act of tickling, 
 and that his face is represented with 
 a wink, as he appeared when com- 
 mitting his barbarous murders." 
 
 When Nell knew all about Mr. 
 Packlemerton, and could say it with- 
 out faltering, Mrs. Jarley passed on to 
 the fat man, and then to the thin man, 
 the tall man, the short man, the old 
 lady who died of dancing at a hundred 
 and thirty-two, the wild boy of the 
 woods, the woman who poisoned four- 
 teen families with pickled walnuts, 
 and other historical characters and 
 interesting but misguided individuals. 
 And so well did Nell profit by her 
 instructions, and so apt was she to 
 remember them, that by the time they 
 had been shut up together for a couple 
 of hours, she was in full possession of 
 
 the history of the whole establishment, 
 and perfectly competent to the enlight- 
 enment of visitors. 
 
 Mrs. Jarley was not slow to express 
 her admiration at this happy result, 
 and carried her young friend and 
 pupil to inspect the remaining arrange- 
 ments within doors, by virtue of which 
 the passage had been already con- 
 verted into a grove of green-baize 
 hung with the inscriptions she had 
 already seen (Mr. Slum's productions), 
 and a highly ornamented table placed 
 at the upper end for Mrs. Jarley her- 
 self, at which she was to preside and 
 take the money, in company with his 
 Majesty King Georgje the Third, Mr. 
 Grimaldi as clown, Mary Queen of 
 Scots, an anonymous gentleman of the 
 Quaker persuasion, and Mr. Pitt hold- 
 ing in his hand a correct model of the 
 bill for the imposition of the window 
 duty. The preparations without doors 
 had not been neglected either ; a 
 nun of great personal attractions was 
 telling her beads on the little portico 
 over the door ; and a brigand with 
 the blackest possible head of hair, and 
 the clearest possible complexion, was 
 at that moment going round the town 
 in a cart, consulting the miniature of 
 a lady. 
 
 It now only remained that Mr. 
 Slum's compositions should be judi- 
 ciously distributed ; that the pathetic 
 effusions should find their way to all 
 private houses and tradespeople ; and 
 that the parody commencing "If I 
 know'd a donkey," should be confined 
 to the taverns, and circulated only 
 among the lawyers' clerks and choice 
 spirits of the place. When this had 
 been done, and Mrs. Jarley had waited 
 upon the boarding-schools in person, 
 with a handbill composed expressly 
 for them, in which it was distinctly 
 proved that wax-work refined the 
 mind, cultivated the taste, and en- 
 larged the sphere of the human under- 
 standing, that indefatigable lady sat 
 down to dinner, and drank out 01 
 the suspicious bottle to a flourishing 
 campaign.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 131 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 UNQUESTIONABLY Mrs. Jarley had 
 an inventive genius. In the midst of 
 the various devices for attracting 
 visitors to the exhibition, little Nell 
 was not forgotten. The light cart in 
 which the Brigand usually made his 
 perambulations being gaily dressed 
 with flags and streamers, and the 
 Brigand placed therein, contemplating 
 the miniature of his beloved as usual, 
 Nell was accommodated with a seat 
 beside him, decorated with artificial 
 flowers, and in this state and cere- 
 mony rode slowly through the town 
 every morning, dispersing hand- 
 bills from a basket, to the sound of 
 drum and trumpet. The beauty of 
 the child, coupled with her gentle and 
 timid bearing, produced quite a sen- 
 sation in the little country place. The 
 Brigand, heretofore a source of exclu- 
 sive interest in the streets, became a 
 mere secondary consideration, and to 
 be important only as a part of the 
 show of which she was the chief 
 attraction. Grown-up folks began to 
 be interested in the bright-eyed girl, 
 and some score of little boys fell 
 desperately in love, and constantly 
 left inclosures of nuts and apples, 
 directed in small-text, at the wax- 
 work door. 
 
 This desirable impression was not 
 lost on Mrs. Jarley, who, lest Nell 
 
 More both of which likenesses were 
 admitted by Miss Monflathers, who 
 was at the head of the head Boarding 
 and Day Establishment in the town, 
 and who condescended to take a 
 Private View with eight chosen young 
 ladies, to be quite startling from their 
 extreme correctness. Mr. Pitt in a 
 nightcap and bedgown, and without 
 his boots, represented the poet Cowper 
 with perfect exactness ; and Mary 
 Queen of Scots in a dark wig, white 
 shirt-collar, and male attire, was such 
 a complete image of Lord Byron that 
 the young ladies quite screamed when 
 they saw it. Miss Mouflathers, how- 
 ever, rebuked this enthusiasm, and 
 took occasion to reprove Mrs. Jarley 
 for not keeping her collection more 
 select : observing that His Lordship 
 had held certain opinions quite in- 
 compatible with wax-work honours, 
 and adding something about a Dean 
 and Chapter, which Mrs. Jarley did 
 not understand. 
 
 Although her duties were sufficiently 
 laborious, Nell found in the lady of 
 the caravan a very kind and consi- 
 derate person, who had not only a 
 peculiar relish for being comfortable 
 herself, but for making everybody 
 about her comfortable also ; which 
 latter taste, it may be remarked, is, 
 even in persons who live in much 
 
 should become too cheap, soon sent I finer places than caravans, a far more 
 the Brigand out alone again, and kept rare and uncommon one than the 
 her in the exhibition room, where 
 
 she described the figures every half- 
 
 hour to the great satisfaction of larity procured her various little lees 
 
 admiring audiences. And these 
 audiences were of a very superior 
 description, including a great many 
 young ladies' boarding-schools, whose 
 favour Mrs. Jarley had been at great 
 pains to conciliate, by altering the 
 face and costume of Mr. Grimaldi 
 as clown to represent Mr. Lindley 
 Murray as he appeared when engaged 
 in the composition of his English 
 Grammar, and turning a murderess 
 
 first, and is not by any means its 
 necessary consequence. As her popu- 
 
 from the visitors on which her 
 patroness never demanded any toll, 
 and as her grandfather too was well- 
 
 of anxiety in connexion with the wax- 
 work, beyond that which sprung from 
 her recollection of Quilp, and her 
 fears that he might return and one 
 day suddenly encounter them. 
 
 Quilp indeed was a perpetual night- 
 mare to the child, who was constantly 
 
 of great renown into Mrs. Hannah j haunted by a vision of his ugly face 
 
 K2
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP 
 
 and stunted figure. She slept, for 
 their better security, in the room 
 where the wax-work figures were, and 
 she never retired to this place at 
 night but she tortured herself she 
 could not help it with imagining a 
 resemblance, in some one or other of 
 their death-like faces, to the dwarf, 
 and this fancy would sometimes so 
 gain upon her that she would almost 
 believe he had removed the figure 
 and stood within the clothes. Then 
 there were so many of them with 
 their great glassy eyes and, as they 
 stood one behind the other all about 
 her bed, they looked so like living 
 creatures, and yet so unlike in their 
 grim stillness and silence, that she 
 had a kind of terror of them for their 
 own sakes, and would often lie watching 
 their dusky figures until she was 
 obliged to rise and light a candle, or 
 go and sit at the open window and 
 feel a companionship in the bright 
 stars. At these times, she would 
 recal the old house and the window 
 at which she used to sit alone ; and 
 then she would think of poor Kit and 
 all his kindness, until the tears came 
 into her eyes, and she would weep and 
 smile together. 
 
 Often and anxiously at this silent 
 hour, her thoughts reverted to her 
 grandfather, and she would wonder how 
 much he remembered of their former 
 life, and whether he was ever really 
 mindful of the change in their condi- 
 tion and of their late helplessness and 
 destitution. When they were wander- 
 ing about, she seldom thought of this, 
 but now she could not help considering 
 what would become of them if he fell 
 sick, or her own strength were to fail 
 her. He was very patient and willing, 
 happy to execute any little task, and 
 glad to be of use ; but he was in the 
 same listless state, with no prospect of 
 improvement a mere child a poor, 
 thoughtless, vacant creature a harm- 
 less fond old man, susceptible of tender 
 love and regard for her, and of plea- 
 sant and painful impressions, but alive 
 to nothing more. It made her very 
 sad to know that this was so so sad 
 to see it that sometimes when he sat 
 
 idly by, smiling and nodding to her 
 when she looked round, or when he 
 caressed some little child and carried 
 it to and fro, as he was fond of doing 
 by the hour together, perplexed by its 
 simple questions, yet patient under his 
 own infirmity, and seeming almost 
 conscious of it too, and humbled even 
 before the mind of an infant so sad 
 it made her to see him thus, that she 
 would burst into tears, and, with- 
 drawing into some secret place, fall 
 down upon her knees and pray that he 
 might be restored. 
 
 But, the bitterness of her grief was 
 not in beholding him in this condition, 
 when he was at least content and 
 tranquil, nor in her solitary medita- 
 tions on his altered state, though these 
 were trials for a young heart. Cause 
 for deeper and heavier sorrow was yet 
 to come. 
 
 One evening, a holiday night with 
 them, Nell and her grandfather went 
 out to walk. They had been rather 
 closely confined for some days, and the 
 weather being warm, they strolled 
 a long distance. Clear of the town, 
 they took a footpath which struck 
 through some pleasant fields, judging 
 that it would terminate in the road 
 they quitted and enable them to return 
 that way. It made, however, a much 
 wider circuit than they had supposed, 
 and thus they were tempted onward 
 until sunset, when they reached the 
 track of which they were in search, 
 and stopped to rest. 
 
 It had been gradually getting over- 
 cast, and now the sky was dark and 
 lowering, save where the glory of the 
 departing sun piled up masses of gold 
 and burning fire, decaying embers of 
 which gleamed here and there through 
 the black veil, and shone redly down 
 upon the earth. The wind began to 
 moan in hollow murmurs, as the sun 
 went down carrying glad day else- 
 where ; and a train of dull clouds 
 coming up against it, menaced thunder 
 and lightning. Large drops of rain 
 soon began to fall, and, as the storm 
 clouds came sailing onward, others 
 supplied the void they left behind and 
 spread over all the sky. Then was
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 133 
 
 heard the low rumbling of distant 
 thunder, then the lightning quivered, 
 and then the darkness of an hour 
 seemed to have gathered in an instant. 
 
 Fearful of taking shelter beneath a 
 tree or hedge, the old man and the 
 child hurried along the high road, 
 hoping to find some house in which 
 they could seek a refuge from the 
 storm, which had now burst forth in 
 earnest, and every moment increased 
 hi violence. Drenched with the pelting 
 rain, confused by the deafening thunder, 
 and bewildered by the glare of the 
 forked lightning, they would have 
 passed a solitary house without being 
 aware of its vicinity, had not a man, 
 who was standing at the door, called 
 lustily to them to enter. 
 
 " Your ears ought to be better than 
 other folks' at any rate, if you make 
 so little of the chance of being struck 
 blind," he said, retreating from the 
 door and shading his eyes with his 
 hands as the jagged lightning came 
 again. " What were you going past 
 for, eh I " he added, as he closed the 
 door and led the way along a passage 
 to a room behind. 
 
 " We didn't see the house, sir, till 
 we heard you calling," Nell replied. 
 
 " No wonder," said the man, " with 
 this lightning in one's eyes, by-the-by. 
 You had better stand by the fire here, 
 and dry yourselves a bit. You can 
 call for what you like if you want any- 
 thing. If you don't want anything, 
 you 're not obliged to give an order. 
 Don't be afraid of that. This is a public- 
 house, that 's all. The Valiant Soldier 
 is pretty well known hereabouts." 
 
 '' Is this house called the Valiant 
 Soldier, sir?" asked Nell. 
 
 a I thought everybody knew that," 
 replied the landlord. " Where have 
 you come from, if you don't know the 
 Valiant Soldier as well as the church 
 catechism ! This is the Valiant Soldier 
 by James Groves, Jem Groves 
 honest Jem Groves, as is a man of 
 unblemished moral character, and has 
 a good dry skittle ground. If any 
 man has got anything to say again 
 Jem Groves, let him say it to Jem 
 Groves, and Jem Groves can accom- 
 
 modate him with a customer on any 
 terms from four pound a side to 
 forty." 
 
 With these words, the speaker 
 tapped himself on the waistcoat to 
 intimate that he was the Jem Groves 
 so highly eulogized ; sparred scienti- 
 fically at a counterfeit Jem Groves, 
 who was sparring at society in general 
 from a black frame over the chimney- 
 piece ; and, applying a half-emptied 
 glass of spirits and water to his lips, 
 drank Jem Groves's health. 
 
 The night being warm, there was a 
 large screen drawn across the room, 
 I for a barrier against the heat of the 
 j fire. It seemed as if somebody on the 
 other side of this screen had been 
 insinuating doubts of Mr. Groves's 
 prowess, and had thereby given rise to 
 these egotistical expressions, for Mr. 
 Groves wound up his defiance by 
 giving a loud knock upon it with his 
 knuckles and pausing for a reply from 
 the other side. 
 
 " There an't many men," said Mr. 
 Groves, no answer being returned, 
 " who would ventur' to cross Jem 
 Groves under his own roof. There 's 
 only one man, I know, that has nerve 
 enough for that, and that man 's not a 
 hundred mile from here neither. But 
 he 's worth a dozen men, and I let him 
 say of me whatever he likes in conse- 
 quence, he knows that." 
 
 In return for this complimentary 
 address, a very gruff hoarse voice bade 
 Mr. Groves "hold his nise and light 
 a candle." And the same voice re- 
 marked that the same gentleman 
 " needn't waste his breath in brag, for 
 most people knew pretty well what 
 sort of stuff he was made of." 
 
 " Nell, they 're they 're playing 
 cards," whispered the old man, sud- 
 denly interested. " Don't you hear 
 them f" 
 
 " Look sharp with that candle," said 
 the voice ; " it 's as much as I can do 
 to see the pips on the cards as it is ; 
 and get this shutter closed as quick as 
 you can, will you ! Your beer will be 
 the worse for to-night's thunder I 
 expect. Game ! Seven-and-sixpence 
 to me, old Isaac. Hand over."
 
 134 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 " Do you hear, Nell, do you hear 
 them 1" whispered the old man again, 
 with increased earnestness, as the 
 money chinked upon the table. 
 
 " I haven't seen such a storm as 
 this," said a sharp cracked voice of 
 most disagreeable quality, when a 
 tremendous peal of thunder had died 
 away, " since the night when old Luke 
 Withers won thirteen times running, 
 on the red. We all said he had the 
 Devil's luck and his own, and as it 
 was the kind of night for the Devil to 
 be out and busy, I suppose he was 
 looking over his shoulder, if any body 
 could have seen him." 
 
 " Ah ! " returned the gruff voice ; 
 " for all old Luke's winning through 
 thick and thin of late years, I remem- 
 ber the time when he was the un- 
 luckiest and unfortunatest of men. He 
 never took a dice-box in his hand, or 
 held a card, but he was plucked, 
 pigeoned, and cleaned out completely." 
 
 " Do you hear what he says," whis- 
 pered the old man. "Do you hear 
 that, Nell?" 
 
 The child saw with astonishment 
 and alarm that his whole appearance 
 had undergone a complete change. 
 His face was flushed and eager, his 
 eyes were strained, his teeth set, his 
 breath came short and thick, and the 
 hand he laid upon her arm trembled 
 so violently that she shook beneath its 
 grasp. 
 
 " Bear witness," he muttered, look- 
 ing upward, " that I always said it ; 
 that I knew it, dreamed of it, felt it 
 was the truth, and that it must be 
 so ! What money have we, Nell ? 
 Come ! I saw you with money yester- 
 day. What money have we ? Give 
 it to me." 
 
 " No, no, let me keep it, grand- 
 father," said the frightened child. 
 " Let us go away from here. Do not 
 mind the rain. Pray let us go." 
 
 " Give it to me, I say," returned 
 the old man fiercely. " Hush, hush, 
 don't cry, Nell. If I spoke sharply, 
 dear, I didn't mean it. It 's for thy 
 good. I have wronged thee, Nell, but 
 I will right thee yet, I will indeed. 
 Where is the money ? " 
 
 " Do not take it," said the child. 
 " Pray do not take it, dear. For both 
 our sakes let me keep it, or let me 
 throw it away better let me throw it 
 away, than you take it now. Let us 
 go ; do let us go." 
 
 " Give me the money," returned the 
 old man, " I must have it. There 
 there that 's my dear Nell. I '11 right 
 thee one day, child, I '11 right thee, 
 never fear ! " 
 
 She took from her pocket a little 
 purse. He seized it with the same 
 rapid impatience which had charac- 
 terised his speech, and hastily made his 
 way to the other side of the screen. It 
 was impossible to restrain him, and the 
 trembling child followed close behind. 
 
 The landlord had placed a light 
 upon the table, and was engaged in 
 drawing the curtain of the window. 
 The speakers whom they had heard 
 were two men, who had a pack of 
 cards and some silver money between 
 them, while upon the screen itself the 
 games they had played were scored in 
 chalk. The man with the rough voice 
 was a burly fellow of middle age, with 
 large black whiskers, broad cheeks, 
 a coarse wide mouth, and bull neck, 
 which was pretty freely displayed as 
 his shirt collar was only confined by 
 a loose red neckerchief. He wore 
 his hat, which was of a brownish- 
 white, and had beside him a thick 
 knotted stick. The other man, whom 
 his companion had called Isaac, was 
 of a more slender figure stooping, and 
 high in the shoulders with a very 
 ill-favoured face, and a most sinister 
 and villainous squint. 
 
 " Now old gentleman," said Isaac, 
 looking round. " Do you know either 
 of us? This side of the screen is 
 private, sir." 
 
 " No offence, I hope," returned the 
 old man. 
 
 " But by G , sir, there is offence," 
 said the other, interrupting him, 
 "when you intrude yourself upon a 
 couple of gentlemen who are particu- 
 larly engaged." 
 
 " I had no intention to offend," said 
 the old man, looking anxiously at the 
 cards. " I thought that "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 135 
 
 " But you had no right to think, 
 sir," retorted the other. " What the 
 devil has a man at your time of life to 
 do with thinking ?" 
 
 " Now bully boy," said the stout 
 man, raising his eyes from his cards 
 for the first time, " can't you let him 
 speak ? " 
 
 The landlord, who had apparently 
 resolved to remain neutral until he 
 knew which side of the question the 
 stout man would espouse, chimed in at 
 this place with " Ah, to be sure, can't 
 you let him speak, Isaac List ? " 
 
 " Can't I let him speak," sneered 
 Isaac in reply, mimicking as nearly as 
 he could, in his shrill voice, the tones 
 of the landlord. " Yes, I can let him 
 speak, Jemmy Groves." 
 
 " Well then, do it, will you ? " said 
 the landlord. 
 
 Mr. List's squint assumed a por- 
 tentous character, which seemed to 
 threaten a prolongation of this con- 
 troversy, when his companion, who 
 had been looking sharply at the old 
 man, put a timely stop to it 
 
 "Who knows," said he, with a 
 cunning look, " but the gentleman 
 may have civilly meant to ask if he 
 might have the honour to take a hand 
 with us ! " 
 
 " I did mean it," cried the old man, 
 " That is what I mean. That is what 
 I want now ! " 
 
 " I thought so," returned the same 
 man. " Then who knows but the 
 gentleman, anticipating our objection 
 to play for love, civilly desired to play 
 for money ? " 
 
 The old man replied by shaking the 
 little purse in his eager hand, and then 
 throwing it down upon the table, and 
 gathering up the cards as a miser 
 would clutch at gold. 
 
 Oh ! That indeed" said Isaac ; 
 " if that 's what the gentleman meant, 
 I beg the gentleman's pardon. Is this 
 the gentleman's little purse 1 A very 
 pretty little purse. Rather a light 
 purse," added Isaac, throwing it into 
 the air and catching it dexterously, 
 " but enough to amuse a gentleman for 
 half an hour or so." 
 
 " We '11 make a four-handed game 
 
 of it, and take in Groves," said the 
 stout man. " Come, Jemmy." 
 
 The landlord, who conducted him- 
 self like one who was well used to such 
 little parties, approached the table and 
 took his seat. The child, in a perfect 
 agony, drew her grandi'ather aside, 
 and implored him, even then, to come 
 away. 
 
 " Come ; and we may be so happy," 
 said the child. 
 
 "We will be happy," replied the 
 old man hastily. " Let me go, NelL 
 The means of happiness are on the 
 cards and in the dice. We must rise 
 from little winnings to great. There 's 
 little to be won here ; but great will 
 come in time. I shall but win back my 
 own, and it 's all for thee, my darling." 
 
 " God help us ! " cried the child. 
 " Oh ! what hard fortune brought us 
 here ! " 
 
 " Hush ! " rejoined the old man lay- 
 ing his hand upon her mouth, " For- 
 tune will not bear chiding. We must 
 not reproach her, or she shuns us ; I 
 have found that out." 
 
 " Now, mister," said the stout man. 
 " If you 're not coming yourself, give 
 us the cards, will you 1 " 
 
 " I am coming," cried the old man. 
 "Sit thee down, Nell, sit thee down 
 and look on. Be of good heart, it's 
 all for thee all every penny. I don't 
 tell them, no, no, or else they wouldn't 
 play, dreading the chance that such 
 a cause must give me. Look at 
 them. See what they are and what 
 thou art. Who doubts that we must 
 win ! " 
 
 " The gentleman has thought better 
 of it, and isn't coming," said Isaac, 
 making as though he would rise from 
 the table. " I 'm sorry the gentle- 
 man 's daunted nothing venture, no- 
 thing have but the gentleman knows 
 best." 
 
 " Why I am ready. You have all 
 been slow but me," said the old man. 
 " I wonder who 's more anxious to 
 begin than I." 
 
 As he spoke he drew a chair to the 
 table ; and the other three closing 
 round it at the same tune, the game 
 commenced.
 
 136 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 The child sat by, and watched its 
 progress with a troubled mind. Re- 
 gardless of the run of luck, and 
 mindful only of the desperate passion 
 which had its hold upon her grand- 
 father, losses and gains were to her 
 alike. Exulting in some brief triumph, 
 or cast down by a defeat, there he sat 
 so wild and restless, so feverishly and 
 intensely anxious, so terribly eager, so 
 ravenous for the paltry stakes, that 
 she could have almost better borne to 
 see him dead. And yet she was the 
 innocent cause of all this torture, and 
 he, gambling with such a savage 
 thirst for gain as the most insatiable 
 gambler never felt, had not one selfish 
 thought ! 
 
 On the contrary, the other three 
 knaves and gamesters by their trade 
 while intent upon their game, were 
 yet as cool and quiet as if every virtue 
 
 had been centred in their breasts. 
 Sometimes one would look up to smile 
 to another, or to snuff the feeble 
 candle, or to glance at the lightning as 
 it shot through the open window and 
 fluttering curtain, or to listen to some 
 louder peal of thunder than the rest, 
 with a kind of momentary impatience, 
 as if it put him out ; but there they 
 sat, with a calm indifference to every- 
 thing but their cards, perfect philo- 
 sophers in appearance, and with no 
 greater show of passion or excitement 
 than if they had been made of stone. 
 
 The storm had raged for full three 
 hours ; the lightning had grown fainter 
 and less frequent ; the thunder, from 
 seeming to roll and break above their 
 heads, had gradually died away into a 
 deep hoarse distance ; and still the 
 game went on, and still the anxious 
 child was quite forgotten. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 AT length the play came to an end, 
 and Mr. Isaac List rose the only winner. 
 Mat and the landlord bore their losses 
 with professional fortitude. Isaac 
 pocketed his gains with the air of a 
 man who had quite made up his mind 
 to win, all along, and was neither sur- 
 prised nor pleased. 
 
 Nell's little purse was exhausted ; 
 but, although it lay empty by his side, 
 and the other players had now risen 
 from the table, the old man sat poring 
 over the cards, dealing them as they 
 had been dealt before, and turning up 
 the different hands to see what each 
 man would have held if they had 
 still been playing. He was quite 
 absorbed in this occupation, when the 
 child drew near and laid her hand 
 upon his shoulder, telling him it was 
 near midnight. 
 
 " See the curse of poverty, Nell," 
 he said, pointing to the packs he had 
 spread out upon the table. " If I 
 could have gone on a little longer, 
 
 only a little longer, the luck would 
 have turned on my side. Yes, it 's as 
 plain as the marks upon the cards. 
 See here and there and here 
 again." 
 
 " Put them away," urged the child. 
 " Try to forget them." 
 
 " Try to forget them ! " he rejoined, 
 raising his haggard face to hers, and 
 regarding her with an incredulous 
 stare. " To forget them ! How are 
 we ever to grow rich if I forget 
 them " 
 
 The child could only shake her 
 head. 
 
 " No, no, Nell," said the old man, 
 patting her cheek ; " they must not 
 be forgotten. We must make amends 
 for this as soon as we can. Patience 
 patience, and we '11 right thee yet, 
 I promise thee. Lose to-day, win 
 to-morrow. And nothing can be won 
 without anxiety and care nothing. 
 Come, I am ready." 
 
 " Do you know what the time is ! "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 137 
 
 said Mr. Groves, who was smoking ] corner of the fire-place, with the bowl 
 
 with his friends. " Past twelve 
 o'clock" 
 
 " And a rainy night," added the 
 stout man. 
 
 Valiant Soldier, by James 
 
 The 
 Groves. 
 
 tainment for man and beast," said 
 Mr. Groves, quoting his sign-board. 
 " Halfpast twelve o'clock." 
 
 "It's very late," said the uneasy 
 child. "I wish we had gone before. 
 What will they think of us ! It will 
 be two o'clock by the time we get 
 back. What would it cost, sir, if we 
 stopped here ? " 
 
 " Two good beds, one-and-sixpence ; 
 supper and beer one shilling ; total, 
 two shillings and sixpence," replied 
 the Valiant Soldier. 
 
 downwards, he brought in the bread 
 and cheese, and beer, with many high 
 encomiums upon their excellence, and 
 bade his guests fall to, and make 
 themselves at home. Nell and her 
 
 Good beds. Cheap enter- 1 grandfather ate sparingly, for both 
 were occupied with their own reflec- 
 tions ; the other gentlemen, for whose 
 constitutions beer was too weak and 
 tame a liquid, consoled themselves 
 with spirits and tobacco. 
 
 As they would leave the house very 
 early in the morning, the child was 
 anxious to pay for their entertainment 
 before they retired to bed. Bat as 
 she felt the necessity of concealing 
 her little hoard from her grandfather, 
 and had to change the piece of gold, 
 she took it secretly from its place of 
 
 Now, Nell had still the piece of concealment, and embraced an oppor- 
 
 gold sewn in her dress ; and when 
 she came to consider the lateness of 
 the hour, and the somnolent habits of 
 Mrs. Jarley, and to imagine the state 
 of consternation in which they would 
 certainly throw that good lady by 
 knocking her up in the middle of the 
 night and when she reflected, on the 
 other hand, that if they remained 
 where they were, and rose early in the 
 morning, they might get back before 
 she awoke, and could plead the vio- 
 lence of the storm by which they had 
 been overtaken, as a good apology 
 for their absence she decided, after 
 a great deal of hesitation, to remain. 
 She therefore took her grandfather 
 aside, and telling him that she had 
 still enough left to defray the cost 
 of their lodging, proposed that they 
 should stay there for the night. 
 
 " If I had had but that money 
 before If I had only known of it a 
 few minutes ago ! " muttered the old 
 man. 
 
 " We will decide to stop here if 
 you please," said Nell, turning hastily 
 to the landlord. 
 
 " I think that 's prudent," returned 
 Mr. Groves. " You shall have your 
 suppers directly." 
 
 Accordingly, when Mr. Groves ha<] 
 smoked his pipe out, knocked out the 
 ashes, and placed it carefully in a 
 
 ;unity of following the landlord when 
 le went out of the room, and tendered 
 t to him in the little bar. 
 
 " Will you give me the change here, 
 ;f you please 1 " said the child. 
 
 Mr. James Groves was evidently 
 surprised, and looked at the money, 
 and rung it, and looked at the child, 
 and at the money again, as though he 
 had a mind to inquire how she came 
 by it. The coin being genuine, how- 
 ever, and changed at his house, he 
 probably felt, like a wise landlord, 
 that it was no business of his. At 
 any rate, he counted out the change, 
 and gave it her. The child was 
 returning to the room where they 
 had passed the evening, when she 
 fancied she saw a figure just gliding 
 in at the door. There was nothing 
 but a long dark passage between this 
 door and the place where she had 
 changed the money, and, being very 
 certain that no person had passed in 
 or out while she stood there, the 
 thought struck her that she had been 
 watched. 
 
 But by whom ! When she re- 
 entered the room, she found its 
 inmates exactly as she had left them. 
 The stout fellow lay upon two chairs, 
 resting his head on his hand, and the 
 squinting man reposed in a similar 
 attitude on the opposite side of the
 
 138 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 table. Between them sat her grand- 
 father, looking intently at the winner 
 with a kind of hungry admiration, and 
 hanging upon his words as if he were 
 some superior being. She was puz- 
 zled for a moment, and looked round 
 to see if any else were there. No. 
 Then she asked her grandfather in a 
 whisper whether anybody had left the 
 room while she was absent. " No," 
 he said, " nobody." 
 
 It must have been her fancy then ; 
 and yet it was strange, that, without 
 anything in her previous thoughts to 
 lead to it, she should have imagined 
 this figure so very distinctly. She 
 was still wondering and thinking of it, 
 when a girl came to light her to bed. 
 
 The old man took leave of the com- 
 pany at the same time, and they went 
 up stairs together. It was a great, 
 rambling house, with dull corridors 
 and wide staircases which the flaring 
 candles seemed to make more gloomy. 
 She left her grandfather in his cham- 
 ber, and followed her guide to another, 
 which was at the end of a passage, 
 and approached by some half-dozen 
 crazy steps. This was prepared for 
 her. The girl lingered a little while 
 to talk, and tell her grievances. She 
 had not a good place, she said ; the 
 wages were low, and the work was 
 hard. She was going to leave it in a 
 fortnight ; the child couldn't recom- 
 mend her to another, she supposed ? 
 Indeed she was afraid another would 
 be difficult to get after living there, 
 for the house had a very indifferent 
 character ; there was far too much 
 card-playing, and such like. She was 
 very much mistaken if some of the 
 people who came there oftenest were 
 quite as honest as they might be, but 
 she wouldn't have it known that she 
 had said so, for the world. Then 
 there were some rambling allusions to 
 a rejected sweetheart, who had threat- 
 ened to go a soldiering a final pro- 
 mise of knocking at the door early in 
 the morning and " Good night." 
 
 The child did not feel comfortable 
 when she was left alone. She could 
 not help thinking of the figure stealing 
 through the passage down stairs ; and 
 
 what the girl had said did not tend to 
 reassure her. The men were very ill- 
 looking. They might get their living 
 by robbing and murdering travellers. 
 Who could tell ? 
 
 Reasoning herself out of these fears, 
 or losing sight of them for a little 
 while, there came the anxiety to which 
 the adventures of the night gave rise. 
 Here was the old passion awakened 
 again in her grandfather's breast, and 
 to what further distraction it might 
 tempt him Heaven only knew. What 
 fears their absence might have occa- 
 sioned already I Persons might be 
 seeking for them even then. Would 
 they be forgiven in the morning, or 
 turned adrift again ! Oh ! why had 
 they stopped in that strange place I 
 It would have been better, under any 
 circumstances, to have gone on ! 
 
 At last, sleep gradually stole upon 
 her a broken, fitful sleep, troubled 
 by dreams of falling from high towers, 
 and waking with a start and in great 
 terror. A deeper slumber followed 
 
 this and then What ! That figure 
 
 in the room ! 
 
 A figure was there. Yes, she had 
 drawn up the blind to admit the light- 
 when it should dawn, and there, be- 
 tween the foot of the bed and the dark 
 casement, it crouched and slunk along, 
 groping its way with noiseless hands, 
 and stealing round the bed. She had 
 no voice to cry for help, no power to 
 move, but lay still, watching it. 
 
 On it came on, silently and 
 stealthily, to the bed's head. The 
 breath so near her pillow, that she 
 shrunk back into it, lest those wander- 
 ing hands should light upon her face. 
 Back again it stole to the window 
 then turned its head towards her. 
 
 The dark form was a mere blot 
 upon the lighter darkness of the room, 
 but she saw the turning of the head, 
 and felt and knew how the eyes looked 
 and the ears listened. There it re- 
 mained, motionless as she. At length, 
 still keeping the face towards her, it 
 busied its hands in something, and she 
 heard the chink of money. 
 
 Then, on it came again, silent and 
 stealthy as before, and replacing the
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 garments it had taken from the bed- 
 side, dropped upon its hands and 
 knees, and crawled away. How slowly 
 it seemed to move, now that she could 
 hear but not see it, creeping along the 
 floor ! It reached the door at last, and 
 stood upon its feet. The steps creaked 
 beneath its noiseless tread, and it was 
 gone. 
 
 The first impulse of the child was to 
 fly from the terror of being by herself 
 in that room to have somebody by 
 not to be alone and then her power 
 of speech would be restored. With 
 no consciousness of having moved, she 
 gained the door. 
 
 There was the dreadful shadow, 
 pausing at the bottom of the steps. 
 
 She could not pass it ; she might 
 have done so, perhaps, in the dark- 
 ness, without being seized, but her! 
 blood curdled at the thought. The [ 
 figure stood quite still, and so did she ; 
 not boldly, but of necessity ; for going 
 back into the room was hardly less 
 terrible than going on. 
 
 The rain beat fast and furiously 
 without, and ran down in plashing 
 streams from the thatched roof. Some 
 summer insect, with no escape into the 
 air, flew blindly to and fro, beating its 
 body against the walls and ceiling, 
 and filling the silent place with mur- 
 murs. The figure moved again. The 
 
 child involuntarily did the same. Once 
 in her grandfather's room, she would 
 be safe. 
 
 It crept along the passage until it 
 came to the very door she longed so 
 ardently to reach. The child, in the 
 agony of being so near, had almost 
 darted forward with the design of 
 bursting into the room and closing it 
 behind her, when the figure stopped 
 again. 
 
 The idea flashed suddenly upon her 
 what if it entered there, and had a 
 design upon the old man's life ! She 
 turned faint and sick. It did. It 
 went in. There was a light inside. 
 The figure was now within the cham- 
 ber, and she, still dumb quite dumb, 
 and almost senseless stood looking on. 
 
 The door was partly open. Not 
 knowing what she meant to do, but 
 meaning to preserve him or be killed 
 herself, she staggered forward and 
 looked in. 
 
 What sight was that which met her 
 view ! 
 
 The bed had not been lain on, but 
 was smooth and empty. And at a 
 table sat the old man himself ; the only 
 living creature there ; his white face 
 pinched and sharpened by the greedi- 
 ness which made his eyes unnaturally 
 bright counting the money of which 
 his hands had robbed her.
 
 !40 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 WITH steps more faltering and un- 
 steady than those with which she had 
 approached the room, the child with- 
 drew from the door, and groped her 
 way back to her own chamber. The 
 terror she had lately felt was nothing 
 compared with that which now op- 
 pressed her. No strange robber, no 
 treacherous host conniving at the plun- 
 der of his guests, or stealing to their 
 beds to kill them in their sleep, no 
 nightly prowler, however terrible and 
 cruel, could have awakened in her 
 bosom half the dread which the recog- 
 nition of her silent visitor inspired. 
 The grey-headed old man gliding like 
 a ghost into her room and acting the 
 thief while he supposed her fast asleep, 
 then bearing off his prize and hanging 
 over it with the ghastly exultation she 
 had witnessed, was worse immeasur- 
 ably worse, and far more dreadful, for 
 the moment, to reflect upon than any- 
 thing her wildest fancy could have sug- 
 gested. If he should return there was 
 no lock or bolt upon the door, and if, 
 distrustful of having left some money 
 yet behind, he should come back to 
 seek for more a vague awe and hor- 
 ror surrounded the idea of his slinking 
 in again with stealthy tread, and turn- 
 ing his face toward the empty bed, 
 while she shrank down close at his feet 
 to avoid his touch, which was almost 
 insupportable. She sat and listened. 
 Hark ! A footstep on the stairs, and 
 now the door was slowly opening. It 
 was but imagination, yet imagination 
 had all the terrors of reality ; nay, it 
 was worse, for the reality would have 
 come and gone, and there an end, but 
 in imagination it was always coming, 
 and never went away. 
 
 The feeling which beset the child 
 was one of dim uncertain horror. She 
 had no fear of the dear old grandfa- 
 ther, in whose love for her this disease 
 of the brain had been engendered ; 
 but the man she had seen that night, 
 wrapt in the game of chance, lurking 
 in her room, and counting the money 
 
 by the glimmering light, seemed like 
 another creature in his shape, a mon- 
 strous distortion of his image, a some- 
 thing to recoil from, and be the more 
 afraid of, because it bore a likeness to 
 him, and kept close about her, as he 
 did. She could scarcely connect her 
 own affectionate companion, save by 
 his loss, with this old man, so like yet 
 so unlike him. She had wept to see 
 him dull and quiet. How much greater 
 cause she had for weeping now ! 
 
 The child sat watching and thinking 
 of these things, until the phantom in 
 her mind so increased in gloom and 
 terror, that she felt it would be a relief 
 to hear the old man's voice, or, if he 
 were asleep, even to see him, and banish 
 some of the fears that clustered round 
 his image. She stole down the stairs 
 and passage again. The door was still 
 ajar as she had left it, and the candle 
 burning as before. 
 
 She had her own candle in her hand, 
 prepared to say, if he were waking, 
 that she was uneasy and could not 
 rest, and had come to see if his were 
 still alight. Looking into the room, 
 she saw him lying calmly on his bed, 
 and so took courage to enter. 
 
 Fast asleep no passion in the face, 
 no avarice, no anxiety, no wild desire ; 
 all gentle, tranquil, and at peace. This 
 was not the gambler, or the shadow in 
 her room ; this was not even the worn 
 and jaded man whose face had so often 
 met her own in the grey morning light ; 
 this was her dear old friend, her harm- 
 less fellow-traveller, her good, kind 
 grandfather. 
 
 She had no fear as she looked upon 
 his slumbering features, but she had a 
 deep and weighty sorrow, and it found 
 its relief in tears. 
 
 "God bless him !" said the child, 
 stooping softly to kiss his placid cheek. 
 " I see too well now, that they would 
 indeed part us if they found us out, 
 and shut him up from the light of the 
 sun and sky. He has only me to help 
 him. God bless us both 1 "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 141 
 
 Lighting her candle, she retreated 
 as silently as she had come, and, gam- 
 ing her own room once more, sat up 
 during the remainder of that long, 
 long, miserable night. 
 
 At last the day turned her waning 
 candle pale, and she fell asleep. She 
 was quickly roused by the girl who 
 had shown her up to bed ; and, as soon 
 as she was dressed, prepared to go 
 down to her grandfather. But first 
 she searched her pocket and found that 
 her money was all gone not a six- 
 pence remained. 
 
 The old man was ready, and in a 
 few seconds they were on their road. 
 The child thought he rather avoided 
 her eye, and appeared to expect that 
 she would tell him of her loss. She 
 felt she must do that, or he might 
 suspect the truth. 
 
 " Grandfather," she said in a tre- 
 mulous voice, after they had walked 
 about a mile in silence, " do you think 
 they are honest people at the house 
 yonder ! " 
 
 " Why ? " returned the old man 
 trembling. " Do I think them honest 
 yes, they played honestly." 
 
 " I '11 tell you why I ask," rejoined 
 Nell. " I lost some money last night 
 out of my bedroom I am sure. Un- 
 less it was taken by somebody in jest 
 only in jest, dear grandfather, which 
 would make me laugh heartily if I 
 could but know it " 
 
 " Who would take money in jest 1 " 
 returned the old man in a hurried 
 manner. u Those who take money, take 
 it to keep. Don't talk of jest." 
 
 " Then it was stolen out of my room, 
 dear," said the child, whose last hope 
 was destroyed by the manner of this 
 reply. 
 
 " But is there no more, Nell ? " said 
 the old man ; " no more anywhere ? 
 Was it all taken every farthing of it 
 was there nothing left 1 " 
 
 " Nothing," replied the child. 
 
 "We must get more," said the old 
 man, " we must earn it, Nell, hoard it 
 up, scrape it together, come by it some- 
 how. Never mind this loss. Tell no- 
 body of it, and perhaps we may regain 
 it. Don't ask how ; we may regain 
 
 it, and a great deal more ; but tell 
 nobody, or trouble may come of it. 
 And so they took it out of thy room, 
 when thou wert asleep ! " he added in 
 a compassionate tone, very different 
 from the secret, cunning way in which 
 he had spoken until now. " Poor Nell, 
 poor little Nell ! " 
 
 The child hung down her head and 
 wept. The sympathising tone in which 
 he spoke, was quite sincere ; she was 
 sure of that. It was not the lightest 
 part of her sorrow to know that this 
 was done for her. 
 
 "Not a word about it to any one 
 but me," said the old man, " no, not 
 even to me," he added hastily, " for it 
 can do no good. All the losses that 
 ever were, are not worth tears from 
 thy eyes, darling. Why should they 
 be, when we will win them back ? " 
 
 "Let them go," said the child 
 looking up. " Let them go, once and 
 for ever, and I would never shed 
 another tear if every penny had been 
 a thousand pounds." 
 
 " Well, well," returned the old man, 
 checking himself as some impetuous 
 answer rose to his lips, " she knows no 
 better. I should be thankful for it." 
 
 " But listen to me," said the child 
 earnestly, " will you listen to me ? " 
 
 " Aye, aye, I '11 listen," returned 
 the old man, still without looking at 
 her ; " a pretty voice. It has always a 
 sweet sound to me. It always had 
 when it was her mother's, poor child." 
 
 " Let me persuade you, then oh, 
 do let me persuade you," said the 
 child, " to think no more of gains or 
 losses, and to try no fortune but the 
 fortune we pursue together." 
 
 "We pursue this aim together," 
 retorted her grandfather, still looking 
 away and seeming to confer with 
 himself. " Whose image sanctifies the 
 game ? " 
 
 " Have we been worse off," resumed 
 the child, "since you forgot these 
 cares, and we have been travelling on 
 together ? Have we not been much 
 better and happier without a home to 
 shelter us, than ever we were in that 
 unhappy house, when they were on 
 your mind ? "
 
 J42 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 " She speaks the truth," murmured 
 the old man in the same tone as before. 
 "It must not turn me, but it is the 
 truth no doubt it is." 
 
 "Only remember what we have 
 been since that bright morning when 
 we turned our backs upon it for the 
 last time," said Nell, " only remember 
 what we have been since we have 
 been free of all those miseries what 
 peaceful days and quiet nights we 
 have had what pleasant times we 
 have known what happiness we have 
 enjoyed. If we have been tired or 
 hungry, we have been soon refreshed, 
 and slept the sounder for it. Think 
 what beautiful things we have seen, 
 and how contented we have felt. And 
 why was this blessed change ? " 
 
 He stopped her with a motion of 
 his hand, and bade her talk to him no 
 more just then, for he was busy. 
 After a time he kissed her cheek, still 
 motioning her to silence, and walked 
 on, looking far before him, and some- 
 times stopping and gazing with a 
 puckered brow upon the ground, as if 
 he were painfully trying to collect his 
 disordered thoughts. Once she saw 
 tears in his eyes. When he had gone 
 on thus for some tune, he took her 
 hand in his as he was accustomed to 
 do, with nothing of the violence or 
 animation of his late manner ; and so, 
 by degrees so fine that the child could 
 not trace them, settled down into his 
 usual quiet way, and suffered her to 
 lead him where she would. 
 
 When they presented themselves in 
 the midst of the stupendous collection, 
 they found, as Nell had anticipated, 
 that Mrs. Jarley was not yet out of 
 bed, and that, although she had suf- 
 fered some uneasiness on their account 
 overnight, and had indeed sat up for 
 them until past eleven o'clock, she had 
 retired in the persuasion, that, being 
 overtaken by storm at some distance 
 from home, they had sought the near- 
 est shelter, and would not return 
 before morning. Nell immediately 
 applied herself with great assiduity to 
 the decoration and preparation of the 
 room, and had the satisfaction of com- 
 pleting her task, and dressing herself 
 
 neatly, before the beloved of the Royal 
 Family came down to breakfast. 
 
 " We haven't had," said Mrs. Jarley 
 when the meal was over, "more than 
 eight of Miss Monflathers's young 
 ladies all the time we've been here, 
 and there 's twenty-six of 'em, as I was 
 told by the cook when I asked her a 
 question or two and put her on the 
 free-list. We must try 'em with a 
 parcel of new bills, and you shall take 
 it, my dear, and see what effect that 
 has upon 'em." 
 
 The proposed expedition being one 
 of paramount importance, Mrs. Jarley 
 adjusted Nell's bonnet with her own 
 hands, and declaring that she certainly 
 did look very pretty, and reflected 
 credit on the establishment, dismissed 
 her with many commendations, and 
 certain needful directions as to the 
 turnings on the right which she was 
 to take, and the turnings on the left 
 which she was to avoid. Thus in- 
 structed, Nell had no difficulty in 
 finding out Miss Monflathers's Board- 
 ing and Day Establishment, which 
 was a large house, with a high wall, 
 and a large garden-gate with a large 
 brass plate, and a small grating through 
 which Miss Monflathers's parlour- 
 maid inspected all visitors before 
 admitting them ; for nothing in the 
 shape of a man no, not even a milk- 
 man was suffered, without special 
 licence, to pass that gate. Even the 
 tax-gatherer, who was stout, and wore 
 spectacles and a broad-brimmed hat, 
 had the taxes handed through the 
 grating. More obdurate than gate of 
 adamant or brass, this gate of Miss 
 Monflathers's frowned on all mankind. 
 The very butcher respected it as a 
 gate of mystery, and left off whistling 
 when he rang the bell. 
 
 As Nell approached the awful door, 
 it turned slowly upon its hinges with 
 a creaking noise, and, forth from the 
 solemn grove beyond, came a long 
 file of young ladies, two and two, all 
 with open books in their hands, and 
 some with parasols likewise. And last 
 of the goodly procession came Miss 
 Monflathers, bearing herself a parasol 
 of lilac silk, and supported by two
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 143 
 
 smiling teachers, each mortally en- 
 vious of the other, and devoted unto 
 Miss Monflathers. 
 
 Confused by the looks and whispers 
 of the girls, Nell stood with downcast 
 eyes and suffered the procession to 
 pass on, until Miss Monflathers, bring- 
 ing up the rear, approached her, when 
 she curtseyed and presented her little 
 packet ; on receipt whereof Miss 
 Monflathers commanded that the line 
 should halt. 
 
 " You're the wax-work child, are 
 you not 1 " said Miss Monflathers. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," replied Nell, colour- 
 ing deeply, for the young ladies had 
 collected about her, and she was the 
 centre on which all eyes were fixed. 
 
 " And don't you think you must be 
 a very wicked little child," said Miss 
 Monflathers, who was of rather uncer- 
 tain temper, and lost no opportunity 
 of impressing moral truths upon the 
 tender minds of the young ladies, " to 
 be a wax- work child at all !" 
 
 Poor Nell had never viewed her 
 position in this light, and not knowing 
 what to say, remained silent, blushing 
 more deeply than before. 
 
 " Don't you know," said Miss Mon- 
 flathers, " that it 's very naughty and 
 unfeminine, and a perversion of the 
 properties wisely and benignantly 
 transmitted to us, with expansive 
 powers to be roused from their dor- 
 mant state through the medium of 
 cultivation ! " 
 
 The two teachers murmured their 
 respectful approval of this home- 
 thrust, and looked at Nell as though 
 they would have said that there indeed 
 Miss Monflathers had hit her very 
 hard. Then they smiled and glanced 
 at Miss Monflathers, and then, their 
 eyes meeting, they exchanged looks 
 which plainly said that each considered 
 herself smiler in ordinary to Miss 
 Monflathers, and regarded the other 
 as having no right to smile, and that 
 her so doing was an act of presumption 
 and impertinence. 
 
 ** Don't you feel how naughty it is 
 of you," resumed Miss Monflathers, 
 "to be a wax-work child, when you 
 might have the proud consciousness of 
 
 assisting, to the extent of your infant 
 powers, the manufactures of your 
 country ; of improving your mind by 
 the constant contemplation of the 
 steam-engine ; and of earning a com- 
 fortable and independent subsistence 
 of from two-and-ninepence to three 
 shillings per week ! Don't you know 
 that the harder you are at work, the 
 happier you are 2 " 
 
 "<How doth the little'" mur- 
 mured one of the teachers, in quota- 
 tion from Doctor Watts. 
 
 Eh 3 " said Miss Monflathers, 
 turning smartly round. " Who said 
 that?" 
 
 Of course the teacher who had not 
 said it, indicated the rival who had, 
 whom Miss Monflathers frowningly 
 requested to hold her peace ; by that 
 means throwing the informing teacher 
 into raptures of joy. 
 
 "The little busy bee," said Miss 
 Monflathers, drawing herself up, "is 
 applicable only to genteel children. 
 
 ' In books, or work, or healthful play ' 
 
 is quite right as far as they are con- 
 cerned ; and the work means painting 
 on velvet, fancy needle-work, or em- 
 broidery. In such cases as these," 
 pointing to Nell, with her parasol, 
 " and in the case of all poor people's 
 children, we should read it thus : 
 
 ' In work, work, work. In work alway 
 Let my first years be past, 
 That I may give for ev'ry day 
 Some good account at last.' " 
 
 A deep hum of applause rose not 
 only from the two teachers, but from 
 all the pupils, who were equally 
 astonished to hear Miss Monflathers 
 improvising after this brilliant style ; 
 for although she had been long known 
 as a politician, she had never appeared 
 before as an original poet. Just then 
 somebody happened to discover that 
 Nell was crying, and all eyes were 
 again turned towards her. 
 
 There were indeed tears in her eyes, 
 and drawing out her handkerchief to 
 brush them away, she happened to let 
 it fall. Before she could stoop to pick 
 it up, one young lady of about fifteen
 
 144 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 or sixteen, who had been standing a 
 little apart from the others, as though 
 she had no recognised place among 
 them, sprang forward and put it in 
 her hand. She was gliding timidly 
 away again, when she was arrested by 
 the governess. 
 
 " It was Miss Edwards who did that, 
 I know," said Miss Monflathers pre- 
 dictively. " Now I am sure that was 
 Miss Edwards." 
 
 It was Miss Edwards, and every- 
 body said it was Miss Edwards, and 
 Miss Edwards herself admitted that it 
 was. 
 
 " Is it not," said Miss Monflathers, 
 putting down her parasol to take a 
 severer view of the offender, " a most 
 remarkable thing, Miss Edwards, that 
 you have an attachment to the lower 
 classes which always draws you to 
 their sides ; or, rather, is it not a most 
 extraordinary thing that all I say and 
 do will not wean you from propen- 
 sities which your original station in 
 life have unhappily rendered habitual 
 to you, you extremely vulgar-minded 
 girl ? " 
 
 "I really intended no harm, ma'am," 
 said a sweet voice. "It was a mo- 
 mentary impulse, indeed." 
 
 " An impulse ! " repeated Miss 
 Monflathers scornfully. " I wonder 
 that you presume to speak of impulses 
 to me " both the teachers assented 
 " I am astonished " both the teachers 
 were astonished " I suppose it is an 
 impulse which induces you to take the 
 part of every grovelling and debased 
 person that comes in your way " both 
 the teachers supposed so too. 
 
 " But I would have you know, Miss 
 Edwards," resumed the governess in 
 a tone of increased severity, " that 
 you cannot be permitted if it be only 
 for the sake of preserving a proper 
 example and decorum in this establish- 
 ment that you cannot be permitted, 
 and that you shall not be permitted, 
 to fly in the face of your superiors in 
 this exceedingly gross manner. If 
 you have no reason to feel a becoming 
 pride before wax-work children, there 
 are young ladies here who have, and 
 you must either defer to those young 
 
 ladies or leave the establishment, Miss 
 Edwards." 
 
 This young lady, being motherless 
 and poor, was apprenticed at the 
 school taught for nothing teaching 
 others what she learnt, for nothing 
 boarded for nothing lodged for no- 
 thing and set down and rated as 
 something immeasurably less than 
 nothing, by all the dwellers in the 
 house. The servant-maids felt her 
 inferiority, for they were better 
 treated ; free to come and go, and 
 regarded in their stations with much 
 more respect. The teachers were in- 
 finitely superior, for they had paid to 
 go to school in their time, and were 
 paid now. The pupils cared little for 
 a companion who had no grand stories 
 to tell about home ; no friends to come 
 with post-horses, and be received in 
 all humility, with cake and wine, by 
 the governess ; no deferential servant 
 to attend and bear her home for the 
 holidays ; nothing genteel to talk 
 about, and nothing to display. But 
 why was Miss Monflathers always 
 vexed and irritated with the poor 
 apprentice how did that come to 
 
 Why, the gayest feather in Miss 
 Monflathers's cap, and the brightest 
 glory of Miss Monflathers's school, 
 was a baronet's daughter the real 
 live daughter of a real live baronet 
 who, by some extraordinary reversal 
 of the Laws of Nature, was not only 
 plain in features but dull in intellect, 
 while the poor apprentice had both 
 a ready wit, and a handsome face and 
 figure. It seems incredible. Here 
 was Miss Edwards, who only paid a 
 small premium which had been spent 
 long ago, every day outshining and 
 excelling the baronet's daughter, who 
 learned all the extras (or was taught 
 them all) and whose half-yearly bill 
 came to double that of any other 
 young lady's in the school, making no 
 account of the honour and reputation 
 of her pupilage. Therefore, and be- 
 cause she was a dependant, Miss Mon- 
 flathers had a great dislike to Miss 
 Edwards, and was spiteful to her, and 
 aggravated by her, and, when she
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 145 
 
 had compassion on little Nell, -verbally 
 fell upon and maltreated her as we 
 have already seen. 
 
 " You will not take the air to-day, 
 Miss Edwards," said Miss Monflathers. 
 " Have the goodness to retire to your 
 own room, and not to leave it without 
 permission." 
 
 The poor girl was moving hastily 
 away, when she was suddenly, in 
 nautical phrase, " brought to " by a 
 subdued shriek from Miss Monflathers. 
 
 "She has passed me without any 
 salute ! " cried the governess, raising 
 her eyes to the sky. " She has actu- 
 ally passed me without the slightest 
 acknowledgment of my presence ! " 
 
 The young lady turned and curtsied. 
 Nell could see that she raised her 
 dark eyes to the face of her superior, 
 and that their expression, and that of 
 her whole attitude for the instant, was 
 one of mute but most touching appeal 
 against this ungenerous usage. Miss 
 Monflathers only tossed her head in 
 
 reply, and the great gate closed upon 
 a bursting heart. 
 
 "As for you, you wicked child," 
 said Miss Monflathers, turning to Nell, 
 "tell your mistress that if she pre- 
 sumes to take the liberty of sending 
 to me any more, I will write to the 
 legislative authorities and have her 
 put in the stocks, or compelled to do 
 penance in a white sheet ; and you 
 may depend upon it that you shall 
 certainly experience the treadmill if 
 you dare to come here again. Now 
 ladies, on." 
 
 The procession filed off, two and 
 two, with the books and parasols, and 
 Miss Monflathers, calling the Baronet's 
 daughter to walk with her and smooth 
 her ruffled feelings, discarded the two 
 teachers who by this time had ex- 
 changed their smiles for looks of sym- 
 pathyand left them to bring up the 
 rear, and hate each other a little more 
 for being obliged to walk together. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 MRS. JARLEY'S wrath on first learn- 
 ing that she had been threatened with 
 the indignity of Stocks and Penance, 
 passed all description. The genuine 
 and only Jarley exposed to public 
 scorn, jeered by children, and flouted 
 by beadles ! The delight of the 
 Nobility and Gentry shorn of a bonnet 
 which a Lady Mayoress might have 
 sighed to wear, and arrayed in a white 
 sheet as a spectacle of mortification 
 and humility ! And Miss Monflathers, 
 the audacious creature who presumed, 
 even in the dimmest and remotest dis- 
 tance of her imagination, to conjure 
 up the degrading picture, "I am a' 
 most inclined," said Mrs. Jarley, 
 bursting with the fullness of her anger 
 and the weakness of her means of 
 revenge, " to turn atheist when I think 
 of it !" 
 
 But instead of adopting this course 
 
 No. 73. 
 
 of retaliation, Mrs. Jarley, on second 
 thoughts, brought out the suspicious 
 bottle, and ordering glasses to be set 
 forth upon her favourite drum, and 
 sinking into a chair behind it, called 
 her satellites about her, and to them 
 several times recounted, word for word, 
 the affronts she had received. This 
 done, she begged them in a kind of 
 deep despair to drink ; then laughed, 
 then cried, then took a little sip her- 
 self, then laughed and cried again, and 
 took a little more ; and so, by degrees, 
 the worthy lady went on, increasing in 
 smiles and decreasing in tears, until 
 at last she could not laugh enough at 
 Miss Monflathers, who, from being an 
 object of dire vexation, became one of 
 shier ridicule and absurdity. 
 
 "For which of us is best off, I 
 wonder," quoth Mrs. Jarley, " she or 
 me ! It 's only talking, when all is 
 10
 
 146 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 said and done, and if she talks of me 
 in the stocks, why I can talk of her 
 in the stocks, which is a good deal 
 funnier if we come to that. Lord, 
 what does it matter, after all ! " 
 
 Having arrived at this comfortable 
 frame of mind (to which she had been 
 greatly assisted by certain short inter- 
 jectional remarks of the philosophic 
 George), Mrs. Jarley consoled Nell 
 with many kind words, and requested 
 as a personal favour that whenever 
 she thought of Miss Monflathers, she 
 would do nothing else but laugh at 
 her, all the days of her life. 
 
 So ended Mrs. Jarley's wrath, 
 which subsided long before the going 
 down of the sun. Nell's anxieties, 
 however, were of a deeper kind, and 
 the checks they imposed upon her 
 cheerfulness were not so easily re- 
 moved. 
 
 That evening, as she had dreaded, 
 her grandfather stole away, and did 
 not come back until the night was far 
 spent. Worn out as she was, and 
 fatigued in mind and body, she sat up 
 alone, counting the minutes, until he 
 returned penniless, broken-spirited, 
 and wretched, but still hotly bent upon 
 his infatuation. 
 
 " Get me money," he said wildly, 
 as they parted for the night. " I 
 must have money, Nell. It shall be 
 paid thee back with gallant interest 
 one day, but all the money that comes 
 into thy hands, must be mine not 
 for myself, but to use for thee. 
 Remember, Nell, to use for thee ! " 
 
 What could the child do, with the 
 knowledge she had, but give him 
 every penny that came into her hands, 
 lest he should be tempted on to rob 
 their benefactress ? If she told the 
 truth (so thought the child) he would 
 be treated as a madman ; if she did 
 not supply him with money, he would 
 supply himself ; supplying him, she 
 fed the fire that burnt him up, and 
 put him perhaps beyond recovery. 
 Distracted by these thoughts, borne 
 down by the weight of the sorrow 
 which she dared not tell, tortured by 
 a crowd of apprehensions whenever 
 the old man was absent, and dreading 
 
 alike his stay and his return, the 
 colour forsook her cheek, her eye 
 grew dim, and her heart was oppressed 
 and heavy. All her old sorrows had 
 come back upon her, augmented by 
 new fears and doubts ; by day they 
 were ever present to her mind ; by 
 night they hovered round her pillow, 
 and haunted her in dreams. 
 
 It was natural that, in the midst of 
 her affliction, she should often revert 
 to that sweet young lady of whom she 
 had only caught a hasty glance, but 
 whose sympathy, expressed in one 
 slight brief action, dwelt in her 
 memory like the kindnesses of years. 
 She would often think, if she had such 
 a friend as that to whom to tell her 
 griefs, how much lighter her heart 
 would be that if she were but free 
 to hear that voice, she would be 
 happier. Then she would wish that 
 she were something better, that she 
 were not quite so poor and humble, 
 that she dared address her without 
 fearing a repulse ; and then feel that 
 there was an immeasurable distance 
 between them, and have no hope that 
 the young lady thought of her any 
 more. 
 
 It was now holiday-time at the 
 schools, and the young ladies had 
 gone home, and Miss Monflathers was 
 reported to be flourishing in London, 
 and damaging the hearts of middle- 
 aged gentlemen, but nobody said any- 
 thing about Miss Edwards, whether 
 she had gone home, or whether she 
 had any home to go to, whether she 
 was still at the school, or anything 
 about her. But one evening, as Nell 
 was returning from a lonely walk, she 
 happened to pass the inn where the 
 stage-coaches stopped, just as one 
 drove up, and there was the beautiful 
 girl she so well remembered, pressing 
 forward to embrace a young child 
 whom they were helping down from 
 the roof. 
 
 Well, this was her sister, her little 
 sister, much younger than Nell, whom 
 she had not seen (so the story went 
 afterwards) for five years, and to 
 bring whom to that place on a short 
 visit, she had been saving her poor
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 147 
 
 means all that time. Nell felt as if 
 her heart would break when she saw 
 them meet. They went a little apart 
 from the knot of people who had 
 congregated about the coach, and fell 
 upon each other's neck, and sobbed, 
 and wept with joy. Their plain and 
 simple dress, the distance which the 
 child had come alone, their agitation 
 and delight, and the tears they shed, 
 would have told their history by 
 themselves. 
 
 They became a little more com- 
 posed in a short time, and went away, 
 not so much hand in hand as clinging 
 to each other. u Are you sure you 're 
 happy, sister ? " said the child as they 
 passed where Nell was standing. 
 " Quite happy now," she answered. 
 " But always ? " said the child. " Ah, 
 sister, why do you turn away your 
 face ? " 
 
 Nell could not help following at a 
 little distance. They went to the 
 house of an old nurse, where the 
 elder sister had engaged a bed-room 
 for the child. " I shall come to you 
 early every morning," she said, " and 
 we can be together all the day." 
 "Why not at night-time too? Dear 
 sister, would they be angry with you 
 for that!" 
 
 Why were the eyes of little Nell 
 wet, that night, with tears like those 
 of the two sisters I Why did she 
 bear a grateful heart because they 
 had met, and feel it pain to think 
 that they would shortly part ? Let us 
 not believe that any selfish reference 
 unconscious though it might have 
 been to her own trials awoke this 
 sympathy, but thank God that the 
 innocent joys of others can strongly 
 move us, and that we, even in our 
 fallen nature, have one source of pure 
 emotion which must be prized in 
 Heaven ! 
 
 By morning's cheerful glow, but 
 oftener still by evening's gentle h'ght, 
 the child, with a respect for the short 
 and happy intercourse of these two 
 sisters which forbade her to approach 
 and say a thankful word, although she 
 yearned to do so, followed them at a 
 distance in their walks and rambles, 
 
 stopping when they stopped, sitting 
 on the grass when they sat down, 
 rising when they went on, and feeling 
 it a companionship and delight to be 
 so near them. Their evening walk 
 was by a river's side. Here, every 
 night, the child was too, unseen bj 
 them, unthought of, unregarded ; but 
 feeling as if they were her friends, as 
 if they had confidences and trusts 
 together, as if her load were lightened 
 and less hard to bear ; as if they 
 mingled their sorrows, and found 
 mutual consolation. It was a weak 
 fancy perhaps, the childish fancy of 
 a young and lonely creature ; but, 
 night after night, and still the sisters 
 loitered in the same place, and still 
 the child followed with a mild and 
 softened heart. 
 
 She was much startled, on returning 
 home one night, to find that Mrs. Jar- 
 ley had commanded an announcement 
 to be prepared, to the effect that the 
 stupendous collection would only re- 
 main in its present quarters one day 
 longer ; in fulfilment of which threat 
 (for all announcements connected with 
 public amusements are well known to 
 be irrevocable and most exact), the 
 stupendous collection shut up next day. 
 
 " Are we going from this place di- 
 rectly, ma'am ? " said Nell. 
 
 " Look here, child," returned Mrs. 
 Jarley. " That '11 inform you." And 
 so saying, Mrs. Jarley produced an- 
 other announcement, wherein it was 
 stated, that, in consequence of nume- 
 rous inquiries at the wax-work door, 
 and in consequence of crowds having 
 been disappointed in obtaining admis- 
 sion, the Exhibition would be continued 
 for one week longer, and would re-open 
 next day. 
 
 " For now that the schools are gone, 
 and the regular sight-seers exhausted," 
 said Mrs. Jarley, "we come to the 
 General Public, and they want stimu- 
 lating." 
 
 Upon the following day at noon, 
 Mrs. Jarley established herself behind 
 the highly-ornamented table, attended 
 by the distinguished effigies before 
 mentioned, and ordered the doors to 
 be thrown open for the readmission of 
 
 L2
 
 148 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 a discerning and enlightened public. 
 But the first day's operations were by 
 no means of a successful character, 
 inasmuch as the general public, though 
 they manifested a lively interest in 
 Mrs. Jarley personally, and such of 
 her waxen satellites as were to be seen 
 for nothing, were not affected by any 
 impulses moving them to the payment 
 of sixpence a head. Thus, notwith- 
 standing that a great many people 
 continued to stare at the entry and the 
 figures therein displayed ; and remained 
 there with great perseverance, by the 
 hour at a time, to hear the barrel-organ 
 played and to read the bills ; and not- 
 withstanding that they were kind enough 
 to recommend their friends to patronise 
 the exhibition in the like manner, until 
 the door-way was regularly blockaded 
 by half the population of the town, 
 who, when they went off duty, were 
 relieved by the other half ; it was not 
 found that the treasury was any the 
 richer, or that the prospects of the 
 establishment were at all encouraging. 
 In this depressed state of the clas- 
 sical market, Mrs. Jarley made extra- 
 ordinary efforts to stimulate the popular 
 taste, and whet the popular curiosity. 
 Cei"tain machinery in the body of the 
 nun on the leads over the door was 
 cleaned up and put in motion, so that 
 the figure shook its head paralytically 
 
 all day long, to the great admiration of 
 a drunken, but very Protestant, barber 
 over the way, who looked upon the 
 said paralytic motion as typical of the 
 degrading effect wrought upon the 
 human mind by the ceremonies of the 
 Romish Church, and discoursed upon 
 that theme with great eloquence and 
 morality. The two carters constantly 
 passed in and out of the exhibition- 
 room, under various disguises, protest- 
 ing aloud that the sight was better 
 worth the money than anything they 
 had beheld in all their lives, and urging 
 the bystanders, with tears in their 
 eyes, not to neglect such a brilliant 
 gratification. Mrs. Jarley sat in the 
 pay-place, chinking silver moneys from 
 noon till night, and solemnly calling 
 upon the crowd to take notice that the 
 price of admission was only sixpence, 
 and that the departure of the whole 
 collection, on a short tour among the 
 Crowned Heads of Europe, was posi- 
 tively fixed for that day week. 
 
 "So be in time, be in time, be in 
 time," said Mrs. Jarley, at the close of 
 every such address. " Remember that 
 this is Jarley's stupendous collection 
 of upwards of one Hundred Figures, 
 and that it is the only collection in the 
 world ; all others being impostors and 
 deceptions. Be in time, be in time, be 
 in time !"
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 149 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 As the course of this tale requires 
 that we should become acquainted, 
 somewhere hereabouts, with a few 
 particulars connected with the domestic 
 economy of Mr. Sampson Brass, and 
 as a more convenient place than the 
 present is not likely to occur for that 
 purpose, the historian takes the friendly 
 reader by the hand, and springing with 
 him into the air, and cleaving the 
 same at a greater rate than ever Don 
 Cleophas Leandro Perez Zambullo 
 and his familiar travelled through that 
 pleasant region in company, alights 
 with him upon the pavement of Bevis 
 Marks. 
 
 The intrepid aeronauts alight before 
 a small dark house, once the residence 
 of Mr. Sampson Brass. 
 
 In the parlour window of this little 
 habitation, which is so close upon the 
 footway that the passenger who takes 
 the wall brushes the dim glass with 
 his coat sleeve much to its improve- 
 ment, for it is very dirty in this 
 parlour window in the days of its 
 occupation by Sampson Brass, there 
 hung, all awry and slack, and disco- 
 loured by the sun, a curtain of faded 
 green, so threadbare from long service 
 as by no means to intercept the view 
 of the little dark room, but rather to 
 afford a favourable medium through 
 which to observe it accurately. There 
 was not much to look at. A rickety 
 table, with spare bundles of papers, 
 yellow and ragged from long carriage 
 in the pocket, ostentatiously displayed 
 upon its top ; a couple of stools set 
 face to face on opposite sides of this 
 crazy piece of furniture ; a treacherous 
 old chair by the fire-place, whose 
 withered arms had hugged full many 
 a client and helped to squeeze him j 
 dry ; a second-hand wig box, used as > 
 a depository for blank writs and de- | 
 clarations and other small forms of j 
 law, once the sole contents of the head 
 which belonged to the wig which be- 
 longed to the box, as they were now of 
 the box itself ; two or three common 
 
 books of practice ; a jar of ink, a 
 pounce box, a stunted hearth-broom, 
 a carpet trodden to shreds but still 
 clinging with the tightness of desper- 
 ation to its tacks these, with the 
 yellow wainscoat of the walls, the 
 smoke-discoloured ceiling, the dust 
 and cobwebs, were among the most 
 prominent decorations of the office of 
 Mr. Sampson Brass. 
 
 But this was mere still-life, of no 
 greater importance than the plate, 
 " BRASS, Solicitor," upon the door, and 
 the bill, " First floor to let to a single 
 gentleman," which was tied to the 
 knocker. The office commonly held 
 two examples of animated nature, 
 more to the purpose of this history, 
 and in whom it has a stronger interest 
 and more particular concern. 
 
 Of these, one was Mr. Brass him- 
 self, who has already appeared in these 
 pages. The other was his clerk, as- 
 sistant, housekeeper, secretary, confi- 
 dential plotter, adviser, intriguer, and 
 bill of cost increaser, Miss Brass a 
 kind of amazon at common law, of 
 whom it may be desirable to offer a 
 brief description. 
 
 Miss Sally Brass, then, was a lady 
 of thirty-five or thereabouts, of a gaunt 
 and bony figure, and a resolute bearing, 
 which if it repressed the softer emo- 
 tions of love, and kept admirers at a 
 distance, certainly inspired a feeling 
 akin to awe in the breasts of those 
 male strangers who had the happiness 
 to approach her. In face she bore a 
 striking resemblance to her brother, 
 Sampson so exact, indeed, was the 
 likeness between them, that had it 
 consorted with Miss Brass's maiden 
 modesty and gentle womanhood to have 
 assumed her brother's clothes in a 
 frolic and sat down beside him, it 
 would have been difficult for the oldest 
 friend of the family to determine which 
 was Sampson and which Sally, espe- 
 cially as the lady carried upon her 
 upper lip certain reddish demonstra- 
 tions, which, if the imagination had
 
 150 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 been assisted by her attire, might have 
 been mistaken for a beard. These 
 were, however, in all probability, 
 nothing more than eye-lashes in a 
 wrong place, as the eyes of Miss Brass 
 were quite free from any such natural 
 impertinencies. In complexion Miss 
 Brass was sallow rather a dirty- 
 sallow, so to speak but this hue was 
 agreeably relieved by the healthy glow 
 which mantled in the extreme tip of 
 her laughing nose. Her voice was 
 exceedingly impressive deep and rich 
 in quality, and, once heard, not easily 
 forgotten. Her usual dress was a 
 green gown, in colour not unlike the 
 curtain of the office window, made 
 tight to the figure, and terminating at 
 the throat, where it was fastened be- 
 hind by a peculiarly large and massive 
 button. Feeling,- no doubt, that sim- 
 plicity and plainness are the soul of 
 elegance, Miss Brass wore no collar 
 or kerchief except upon her head, 
 which was invariably ornamented with 
 a brown gauze scarf, like the wing of 
 the fabled vampire, and which, twisted 
 into any form that happened to sug- 
 gest itself, formed an easy and grace- 
 ful head-dress. 
 
 Such was Miss Brass in person. In 
 mind, she was of a strong and vigorous 
 turn, having from her earliest youth 
 devoted herself with uncommon ardour 
 to the study of the law ; not wasting 
 her speculations upon its eagle nights, 
 which are rare, but tracing it atten- 
 tively through all the slippery and 
 eel-like crawlings in which it com- 
 monly pursues its way. Nor had she, 
 like many persons of great intellect, 
 confined herself to theory, or stopped 
 short where practical usefulness begins; 
 inasmuch as she could ingross, fail-- 
 copy, fill up printed forms with perfect 
 accuracy, and, in short transact any 
 ordinary duty of the office down to 
 pouncing a skin of parchment or 
 mending a pen. It is difficult to 
 understand how, possessed of these 
 combined attractions, she should re- 
 main Miss Brass ; but whether she 
 had steeled her heart against mankind, 
 or whether those who might have 
 wooed and won her, were deterred by 
 
 fears that, being learned in the law, 
 she might have too near her fingers' 
 ends those particular statutes which 
 regulate what are familiarly termed 
 actions for breach, certain it is that 
 she was still in a state of celibacy, and 
 still in daily occupation of her old 
 stool opposite to that of her brother 
 Sampson. And equally certain it is, 
 by the way, that between these two 
 stools a great many people had come 
 to the ground. 
 
 One morning Mr. Sampson Brass 
 sat upon his stool copying some legal 
 process, and viciously digging his pen 
 deep into the paper, as if he were 
 writing upon the very heart of the 
 party against whom it was directed ; 
 and Miss Sally Brass sat upon her 
 stool making a new pen preparatory to 
 drawing out a little bill, which was her 
 favourite occupation ; and so they sat 
 in silence for a long time, until Miss 
 Brass broke silence. 
 
 " Have you nearly done, Sammy ? " 
 said Miss Brass ; for in her mild and 
 feminine lips, Sampson became Sammy, 
 and all things were softened down. 
 
 " No," returned her brother. (< It 
 would have been all done though, if 
 you had helped at the right time." 
 
 " Oh yes, indeed," cried Miss Sally ; 
 " you want my help, don't you ? you, 
 too, that are going to keep a clerk ! " 
 
 " Am I going to keep a clerk for my 
 own pleasure, or because of my own 
 wish, you provoking rascal ! " said Mr. 
 Brass, putting his pen in his mouth, 
 and grinning spitefully at his sister. 
 " What do you taunt me about going 
 to keep a clerk for ? " 
 
 It may _ be observed in this place, 
 lest the fact of Mr. Brass calling a 
 lady, a rascal, should occasion any 
 wonderment or surprise, that he was 
 so habituated to having her near him 
 in a man's capacity, that he had gra- 
 dually accustomed himself to talk to 
 her as though she were really a man. 
 And this feeling was so perfectly reci- 
 procal, that not only did Mr. Brasa 
 often call Miss Brass a rascal, or even 
 put an adjective before the rascal, but 
 Miss Brass looked upon it as quite a 
 matter of course, and was as little
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 rncved as any other lady would be by 
 being called an angel. 
 
 " What do you taunt me, after three 
 hours' talk last night, with going to 
 keep a clerk for ? " repeated Mr. Brass, 
 grinning again with the pen in his 
 mouth, like some nobleman's or gentle- 
 man's crest. " Is it my fault ? " 
 
 "All I know is," said Miss Sally, 
 smiling drily, for she delighted in no- 
 thing so much as irritating her bro- 
 ther, " that if every one of your clients 
 is to force us to keep a clerk, whether 
 we want to or not, you had better 
 leave off business, strike yourself off 
 the roll, and get taken in execution as 
 soon as you can." 
 
 " Have we got any other client like 
 him 1 " said Brass. " Have we got 
 another client like him, now will you 
 answer me that 1 " 
 
 " Do you mean in the face ! " said 
 his sister. 
 
 " Do I mean in the face ! " sneered 
 Sampson Brass, reaching over to take 
 up the bill-book, and fluttering its 
 leaves rapidly. " Look here Daniel 
 Quilp, Esquire Daniel Quilp, Esquire 
 Daniel Quilp, Esquire all through. 
 Whether should I take a clerk that he 
 recommends, and says, ' this is the 
 man for you,' or lose all this eh I " 
 
 Miss Sally deigned to make no reply, 
 but smiled again, and went on with her 
 work. 
 
 " But I know what it is," resumed 
 Brass after a short silence. " You 're 
 afraid you won't have as long a finger 
 in the business as you 've been used to 
 have. Do you think I don't see through 
 that 3 " 
 
 " The business wouldn't go on very 
 long, I expect, without me," returned 
 his sister composedly. " Don't you be 
 a fool and provoke me, Sammy, but 
 mind what you 're doing, and do it." 
 
 Sampson Brass, who was at heart in 
 great fear of his sister, sulkily bent 
 over his writing again, and listened as 
 she said : 
 
 " If I determined that the clerk 
 ought not to come, of course he wouldn't 
 be allowed to come. You know that 
 well enough, so don't talk nonsense." 
 
 Mr. Brass received this observation 
 
 with increased meekness merely re- 
 marking, under his breath, that he 
 didn't like that kind of joking, and 
 that Miss Sally would be " a much 
 better fellow " if she forbore to aggra- 
 vate him. To this compliment Miss 
 Sally replied, that she had a relish for 
 the amusement, and had no intention 
 to forego its gratification. Mr. Brass 
 not caring, as it seemed, to pursue the 
 subject any further, they both plied 
 their pens at a great pace, and there 
 the discussion ended. 
 
 While they were thus employed, the 
 window was suddenly darkened, as by 
 some person standing close against it. 
 As Mr. Brass and Miss Sally looked 
 up to ascertain the cause, the top sash 
 was nimbly lowered from without, and 
 Quilp thrust in his head. 
 
 " Hallo I " he said, standing on tip- 
 toe on the window-sill, and looking 
 down into the room. " Is there any- 
 body at home 1 Is there any of the 
 Devil's ware here ? Is Brass at a pre- 
 mium, eh ? " 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! " laughed the lawyer 
 in an affected ecstacy. " Oh, very 
 good, sir ! Oh, very good indeed ! 
 Quite eccentric ! Dear me, what 
 humour he has ! " 
 
 "Is that my Sally?" croaked the 
 dwarf, ogling the fair Miss Brass. " Is 
 it Justice with the bandage off her 
 eyes, and without the sword and 
 scales I Is it the Strong Arm of the 
 Law ? Is it the Virgin of Bevis ? " 
 
 " What an amazing flow of spirits 1" 
 cried Brass. " Upon my word, it's 
 quite extraordinary ! " 
 
 " Open the door," said Quilp. " I've 
 got him here. Such a clerk for you, 
 Brass, such a prize, such an ace of 
 trumps. Be quick and open the door, 
 or, if there 's another lawyer near and 
 he should happen to look out of 
 window, he '11 snap him up before your 
 eyes, he will." 
 
 It is probable that the loss of the 
 phoenix of clerks, even to a rival prac- 
 titioner, would not have broken Mr. 
 Brass's heart ; but, pretending great 
 alacrity, he rose from his seat, and 
 going to the door, returned, intro- 
 ducing his client, who led by the hand
 
 152 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 no less a person than Mr. Richard 
 Swiveller. 
 
 " There she is," said Quilp, stopping 
 short at the door, and wrinkling up 
 his eyebrows as he looked towards 
 Miss Sally ; " there is the woman I 
 ought to have married there is the 
 beautiful Sarah there is the female 
 who has all the charms of her sex and 
 none of their weaknesses. Oh Sally, 
 Sally!" 
 
 To this amorcus address Miss Brass 
 briefly responded " Bother ! " 
 
 " Hard-hearted as the metal from 
 which she takes her name," said 
 Quilp. " Why don't she change it 
 melt down the brass, and take another 
 name ? " 
 
 " Hold your nonsense, Mr. Quilp, 
 do," returned Miss Sally, with a grim 
 smile. " I wonder you 're not ashamed 
 of yourself before astrangeyoungman." 
 
 " The strange young man," said 
 Quilp, handing Dick Swiveller for- 
 ward, " is too susceptible himself, not 
 to understand me well. This is Mr. 
 Swiveller, my intimate friend a gen- 
 tleman of good family and great ex- 
 pectations, but who, having rather 
 involved himself by youthful indiscre- 
 tion, is content for a time to fill the 
 humble station of a clerk humble, 
 but here most enviable. What a 
 delicious atmosphere ! " 
 
 If Mr. Quilp spoke figuratively, and 
 meant to imply that the air breathed 
 by Miss Sally Brass was sweetened 
 .and rarefied by that dainty creature, 
 he had doubtless good reason for what 
 he said. But if he spoke of the 
 delights of the atmosphere of Mr. 
 Brass's office in a literal sense, he had 
 certainly a peculiar taste, as it was of 
 a close and earthy kind, and, besides 
 .being frequently impregnated with 
 strong whiffs of the second-hand wear- 
 ing apparel exposed for sale in Duke's 
 Place and Hounsditch, had a decided 
 flavour of rats and mice, and a taint 
 of mouldiness. Perhaps some doubts 
 of its pure delight presented them- 
 selves to Mr. Swiveller, as he gave 
 vent to one or two short abrupt sniffs, 
 and looked incredulously at the grin, 
 ning dwarf, 
 
 " Mr. Swiveller," said Quilp, " being 
 pretty well accustomed to the agricul- 
 tural pursuits of sowing wild oats, 
 Miss Sally, prudently considers that 
 half a loaf is better than no bread. To 
 be out of harm's way he prudently 
 thinks is something too, and therefore 
 he accepts your brother's offer. Brass, 
 Mr. Swiveller is yours." 
 
 " I am very glad, sir," said Mr. 
 Brass, " very glad indeed. Mr. Swiv- 
 eller, sir, is fortunate to have your 
 friendship. You may be very proud, sir, 
 to have the friendship of Mr. Quilp." 
 
 Dick murmured something about 
 never wanting a friend or a bottle to 
 give him, and also gasped forth his 
 favourite allusion to the wing of 
 friendship and its never moulting a 
 feather ; but his faculties appeared to 
 be absorbed in the contemplation of 
 Miss Sally Brass, at whom he stared 
 with blank and rueful looks, which 
 delighted the watchful dwarf beyond 
 measure. As to the divine Miss Sally 
 herself, she rubbed her hands as men 
 of business do, and took a few turns 
 up and down the office with her pen 
 behind her ear. 
 
 " I suppose," said the dwarf, turning 
 briskly to his legal friend, " that Mr. 
 Swiveller enters upon his duties at 
 once ? It's Monday morning." 
 
 " At once, if you please, sir, by all 
 means," returned Brass. 
 
 " Miss Sally will teach him law, the 
 delightful study of the law," said 
 Quilp ; " she '11 be his guide, his friend, 
 his companion, his Blackstone, his 
 Coke upon Littleton, his Young 
 Lawyer's Best Companion." 
 
 " He is exceedingly eloquent," said 
 Brass, like a man abstracted, and 
 looking at the roofs of the opposite 
 houses, with his hands in his pockets ; 
 " he has an extraordinary flow of lan- 
 guage. Beautiful, really." 
 
 " With Miss Sally," Quilp went on, 
 "and the beautiful fictions of the law, 
 his days will pass like minutes. Those 
 charming creations of the poet, John 
 Doe and Richard Roe, when they first 
 dawn upon him, will open a new world 
 for the enlargement of his mind and 
 the improvement of his heart."
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 153 
 
 <f Oh, beautiful, beautiful ! Beau-ti- 
 ful indeed ! " cried Brass. " It 's a 
 treat to hear him ! " 
 
 "Where will Mr. Swiveller sit!" 
 said Quilp, looking round. 
 
 "Why, we'll buy another stool, 
 sir," returned Brass. "We hadn't 
 any thoughts of having a gentleman 
 with us, sir, until you were kind 
 enough to suggest it, and our accom- 
 modation 's not extensive. We '11 look 
 about for a second-hand stool, sir. In 
 the meantime, if Mr. Swiveller will 
 take my seat, and try his hand at a 
 fair copy of this ejectment, as I shall 
 be out pretty well all the morning " 
 
 "Walk with me," said Quilp. "I 
 have a word or two to say to you on 
 points of business. Can you spare 
 the time ? " 
 
 " Can I spare the time to walk with 
 you, sir ? You 're joking, sir, you 're 
 joking with me," replied the lawyer, 
 putting on his hat. " I 'm ready, sir, 
 quite ready. My time must be fully 
 occupied indeed, sir, not to leave me 
 time to walk with you. It's not 
 everybody, sir, who has an opportunity 
 of improving himself by the conversa- 
 tion of Mr. Quilp." 
 
 The dwarf glanced sarcastically at 
 his brazen friend, and, with a short 
 dry cough, turned upon his heel to bid 
 adieu to Miss Sally. After a very 
 gallant parting on his side, and a very 
 cool and gentlemanly sort of one on 
 hers, he nodded to Dick Swiveller, 
 and withdrew with the attorney. 
 
 Dick stood at the desk in a state of ! 
 utter stupefaction, staring with all his 
 might at the beauteous Sally, as if she ! 
 had been some curious animal whose 
 like had never lived. When the dwarf 
 got into the street, he mounted again 
 upon the window-sill, and looked into 
 the office for a moment with a grinning 
 face, as a man might peep into a cage. 
 Dick glanced upward at him, but 
 without any token of recognition ; and 
 long after he had disappeared, still 
 stood gazing upon Miss Sally Brass, 
 seeing or thinking of nothing else, and 
 rooted to the spot. 
 
 Miss Brass being by this time deep 
 in the bill of costs, took no notice 
 
 whatever of Dick, but went scratching 
 on, with a noisy pen, scoring down the. 
 figures with evident delight, and work- 
 ing like a steam-engine. There stood 
 Dick, gazing now at the green gown, 
 now at the brown head-dress, now at 
 the face, and now at the rapid pen, in 
 a state of stupid perplexity, wondering 
 how he got into the company of that 
 strange monster, and whether it was a 
 dream and he would ever wake. At 
 last he heaved a deep sigh, and began 
 slowly pulling off his coat. 
 
 Mr. Swiveller pulled off his coat, 
 and folded it up with great elaboration, 
 staring at Miss Sally all the time ; 
 then put on a blue jacket with a double 
 row of gilt buttons, which he had 
 originally ordered for aquatic expedi- 
 tions, but had brought with him that 
 morning for office purposes ; and, still 
 keeping his eye upon her, suffered 
 himself to drop down silently upon 
 Mr. Brass's stool. Then he under- 
 went a relapse, and becoming power- 
 less again, rested his chin upon his 
 hand, and opened his eyes so wide, 
 that it appeared quite out of the ques- 
 tion that he could ever close them any 
 more. 
 
 When he had looked so long that 
 he could see nothing, Dick took his 
 eyes off the fair object of his amaze- 
 ment, turned over the leaves of the 
 draft he was to copy, dipped his pen 
 into the inkstand, and at last, and by 
 slow approaches, began to write. But 
 he had not written half-a-dozen words 
 when, reaching over to the inkstand 
 to take a fresh dip, he happened to 
 raise his eyes. There was the 
 intolerable brown head-dress there 
 was the green gown there, in short, 
 was Miss Sally Brass, arrayed in all 
 her charms, and more tremendous 
 than ever. 
 
 This happened so often, that Mr. 
 Swiveller by degrees began to feel 
 strange influences creeping over him 
 horrible desires to annihilate this 
 Sally Brass mysterious promptings 
 to knock her head-dress off and try 
 how she looked without it. There 
 was a very large ruler on the table 
 a large, black, shining ruler. Mr.
 
 154 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 Swiveller took it up and began to rub 
 his nose with it. 
 
 From rubbing his nose with the 
 ruler, to poising it in his hand and 
 giving it an occasional flourish after 
 the tomahawk manner, the transition 
 was easy and natural. In some of 
 these flourishes it went close to Miss 
 Sally's head ; the ragged edges of 
 the head-dress fluttered with the wind 
 it raised ; advance it but an inch, and 
 that great brown knot was on the 
 ground : yet still the unconscious 
 maiden worked away, and never raised 
 her eyes. 
 
 Well, this was a great relief. It 
 was a good thing to write doggedly 
 and obstinately until he was desperate, 
 
 and then snatch up the ruler and 
 whirl it about the brown head-dress 
 with the consciousness that he could 
 have it off if he liked. It was a good 
 thing to draw it back, and rub his 
 nose very hard with it, if he thought 
 Miss Sally was going to look up, and 
 to recompense himself with more 
 hardy flourishes when he found she 
 was still absorbed. By these means 
 Mr. Swiveller calmed the agitation of 
 his feelings, until his applications to 
 the ruler became less fierce and fre- 
 quent, and he could even write as 
 many as half-a-dozen consecutive lines 
 without having recourse to it, which 
 was a great victory. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 IN course of time, that is to say, 
 after a couple of hours or so, of 
 diligent application, Miss Brass arrived 
 at the conclusion of her task, and 
 recorded the fact by wiping her pen 
 upon the green gown, and taking a 
 pinch of snuff from a little round tin 
 box which she carried in her pocket. 
 Having disposed of this temperate 
 refreshment, she arose from her stool, 
 tied her papers into a formal packet 
 with red tape, and taking them under 
 her arm, marched out of the office. 
 
 Mr. Swiveller had scarcely sprung 
 off his seat and commenced the per- 
 formance of a maniac hornpipe, when 
 he was interrupted, in the fulness of 
 his joy at being again alone, by the 
 opening of the door, and the reappear- 
 ance of Miss Sally's head. 
 
 " I am going out," said Miss Brass. 
 
 " Very good, ma'am," returned 
 Dick. " And don't hurry yourself on 
 my account to come back, ma'am," he 
 added inwardly. 
 
 "If anybody comes on office busi- 
 ness, take their messages, and say that 
 the gentleman who attends to that 
 
 matter isn't in at present, will you ? " 
 said Miss Brass. 
 
 "I will, ma'am," replied Dick. 
 
 " I shan't be very long," said Miss 
 Brass, retiring. 
 
 "I'm sorry to hear it, ma'am," 
 rejoined Dick when she had shut the 
 door. " I hope you may be unexpect- 
 edly detained, ma'am. If you could 
 manage to be run over, ma'am, but 
 not seriously, so much the better." 
 
 Uttering these expressions of good- 
 will with extreme gravity, Mr. Swivel- 
 ler sat down in the client's chair and 
 pondered ; then took a few turns up 
 and down the room and fell into the 
 chair again. 
 
 " So I 'm Brass's clerk, am I ? " said 
 Dick. " Brass's clerk, eh ? And the 
 clerk of Brass's sister clerk to a 
 female Dragon. Very good, very 
 good ! What shall I be next ? Shall 
 I be a convict in a felt hat and a grey 
 suit, trotting about a dockyard with 
 my number neatly embroidered on my 
 uniform, and the order of the garter 
 on my leg, restrained from chafing my 
 ancle by a twisted belcher handker-
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 155 
 
 chief? Shall I be that? Will that 
 do, or is it too genteel? Whatever 
 you please, have it your own way of 
 course." 
 
 As he was entirely alone, it may be 
 presumed that, in these remarks, Mr. 
 Swiveller addressed himself to his fate 
 or destiny, whom, as we learn by the 
 precedents, it is the custom of heroes 
 to taunt in a very bitter and ironical 
 manner when they find themselves in 
 situations of an unpleasant nature. 
 This is the more probable from the 
 circumstance of Mr. Swiveller direct- 
 ing his observations to the ceiling 
 which these bodiless personages are 
 usually supposed to inhabit except 
 in theatrical cases, when they live in 
 the heart of the great chandelier. 
 
 " Quilp offers me this place, which 
 he says he can insure me," resumed 
 Dick after a thoughtful silence, and 
 telling off the circumstances of his 
 position, one by one, upon his fingers ; 
 "Fred, who, I could have taken my 
 affidavit, would not have heard of such 
 a thing, backs Quilp to my astonish- 
 ment, and urges me to take it also 
 staggerer, number one ! My aunt in 
 the country stops the supplies, and 
 writes an affectionate note to say that 
 she has made a new will, and left me 
 out of it staggerer, number two ! No 
 money ; no credit ; no support from 
 Fred, who seems to turn steady all at 
 once ; notice to quit the old lodgings 
 staggerers three, four, five, and six ! 
 Under an accumulation of staggerers, 
 no man can be considered a free agent. 
 No man knocks himself down ; if his 
 destiny knocks him down, his destiny 
 must pick him up again. Then I 'in 
 very glad that mine has brought all 
 this upon itself, and I shall be as care- 
 less as I can and make myself quite at 
 home to spite it. So go on my buck," 
 said Mr. Swiveller, taking his leave of 
 the ceiling with a significant nod, 
 "and let us see which of us will be 
 tired first ! " 
 
 Dismissing the subject of his down- 
 fall with these reflections, which were 
 no doubt very profound, and are indeed 
 not altogether unknown in certain 
 systems of moral philosophy, Mr. 
 
 Swiveller shook off his despondency 
 and assumed the cheerful ease of an 
 irresponsible clerk. 
 
 As a means towards his composure 
 and self-possession, he entered into a 
 more minute examination of the office 
 than he had yet had time to make ; 
 looked into the wig-box, the books, 
 and ink-bottle ; untied and inspected 
 all the papers ; carved a few devices 
 on the table with the sharp blade of 
 Mr. Brass's penknife ; and wrote his 
 name on the inside of the wooden 
 coal-scuttle. Having, as it were, taken 
 formal possession of his clerkship in 
 virtue of these proceedings, he opened 
 the window and leaned negligently out 
 of it until a beer-boy happened to 
 pass, whom he commanded to set down 
 his tray and to serve him with a pint 
 of mild porter, which he drank upon 
 the spot and promptly paid for, with 
 the view of breaking ground for a 
 system of future credit and opening a 
 correspondence tending thereto, with- 
 out loss of time. Then, three or four 
 little boys dropped in, on legal errands 
 from three or four attorneys of the 
 Brass grade : whom Mr. Swiveller re- 
 ceived and dismissed with about as 
 professional a manner, and as correct 
 and comprehensive an understanding 
 of their business, as would have been 
 shown by a clown in a pantomime 
 under similar circumstances. These 
 things done and over, he got upon his 
 stool again and tried his hand at 
 drawing caricatures of Miss Brass 
 with a pen and ink, whistling very 
 cheerfully all the tune. 
 
 He was occupied in this diversion 
 when a coach stopped near the door, 
 and presently afterwards there was a 
 loud double-knock. As this was no 
 business of Mr. Swiveller's, the person 
 not ringing the office bell, he pursued 
 his diversion with perfect composure, 
 notwithstanding that he rather thought 
 there was nobody else ha the house. 
 
 In this, however, he was mistaken ; 
 for, after the knock had been repeated 
 with increased impatience, the door 
 was opened, and somebody with a very 
 heavy tread went up the stairs and 
 into the room above. Mr. Swiveller
 
 156 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 was wondering whether this might be 
 another Miss Brass, twin sister to the 
 Dragon, when there came a rapping 
 of knuckles at the office door. 
 
 Come in ! " said Dick. " Don't 
 stand upon ceremony. The business 
 will get rather complicated if I 've 
 many more customers. Come in ! " 
 
 " Oh, please," said a little voice very 
 low down in the doorway, " will you 
 come and show the lodgings ! " 
 
 Dick leant over the table, and de- 
 scried a small slipshod girl in a dirty 
 coarse apron and bib, which left 
 nothing of her visible but her face and 
 feet. She might as well have been 
 dressed in a violin-case. 
 
 " Why, who are you 1 " said Dick. 
 
 To which the only reply was, " Oh, 
 please will you come and show the 
 lodgings ? " 
 
 There never was such an old-fa- 
 shioned child in her looks and manner. 
 She must have been at work from her 
 cradle. She seemed as much afraid 
 of Dick, as Dick was amazed at her. 
 
 " I hav'n't got anything to do with 
 the lodgings," said Dick. " Tell 'em 
 to call again." 
 
 " Oh, but please will you coine and 
 show the lodgings," returned the girl ; 
 "it's eighteen shillings a week and 
 us finding plate and linen. Boots and 
 clothes is extra, and fires in winter- 
 time is eightpence a day." 
 
 " Why don't you show 'em your- 
 self! You seem to know all about 
 'em," said Dick. 
 
 " Miss Sally said I wasn't to, because 
 people wouldn't believe the attend- 
 ance was good if they saw how small I 
 was first." 
 
 " Well, but they '11 see how small 
 you are afterwards, won't they ? " said 
 Dick. 
 
 Ah ! But then they '11 have taken 
 'em for a fortnight certain," replied 
 the child with a shrewd look ; " and 
 people don't like moving when they 're 
 once settled." 
 
 " This is a queer sort of thing," 
 
 muttered Dick, rising. " What do 
 
 you mean to say you are the 
 
 cook ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do plain cooking ;" replied 
 
 the child. " I 'm housemaid too ; I do 
 all the work of the house." 
 
 " I suppose Brass and the Dragon 
 and I, do the dirtiest part of it," thought 
 Dick. And he might have thought 
 much more, being in a doubtful and 
 hesitating mood, but that the girl again 
 urged her request, and certain myste- 
 rious bumping sounds on the passage 
 and staircase seemed to give note of 
 the applicant's impatience, llichard 
 Swiveller, therefore, sticking a pen 
 behind each ear, and carrying another 
 in his mouth as a token of his great 
 importance and devotion to business, 
 hurried out to meet and treat with 
 the single gentleman. 
 
 He was a little surprised to perceive 
 that the bumping sounds were occa- 
 sioned by the progress up-stairs of the 
 single gentleman's trunk, which, being 
 nearly twice as wide as the staircase, 
 and exceedingly heavy withal, it was no 
 easy matter for the united exertions of 
 the single gentleman and the coach- 
 man to convey up the steep ascent. 
 But there they were, crushing each 
 other, and pushing and pulling with all 
 their might, and getting the trunk 
 tight and fast in all kinds of impossible 
 angles, and to pass them was out of 
 the question ; for which sufficient 
 reason, Mr. Swiveller followed slowly 
 behind, entering a new protest on 
 every stair against the house of Mr. 
 Sampson Brass being thus taken by 
 storm. 
 
 To these remonstrances, the single 
 gentleman answered not a word, but 
 when the trunk was at last got into the 
 bed-room, sat down upon it and wiped 
 his bald head and face with his hand- 
 kerchief. He was very warm, and well 
 he might be ; for, not to mention the 
 exertion of getting the trunk up stairs, 
 he was closely muffled in winter 
 garments, though the thermometer had 
 stood all day at eighty-one in the shade. 
 
 " I believe, sir," said Richard Swiv- 
 eller, taking his pen out of his mouth, 
 " that you desire to look at these apart- 
 ments. They are very charming apart- 
 ments, sir. They command an uninter- 
 rupted view of of over the way, and 
 they are within one minute's walk of
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 157 
 
 of the corner of the street. There 
 is exceedingly mild porter, sir, in the 
 immediate vicinity, and the contingent 
 advantages are extraordinary." 
 
 " What's the rent ? " said the single 
 gentleman. 
 
 " One pound per week," replied 
 Dick, improving on the terms. 
 
 " I '11 take 'em." 
 
 " The boots and clothes are extras," 
 said Dick ; and the fires in winter 
 time are " 
 
 " Are all agreed to," answered the 
 single gentleman. 
 
 " Two weeks certain," said Dick, 
 <c are the " 
 
 " Two weeks ! " cried the single 
 gentleman gruffly, eyeing him from top 
 to toe. " Two years. I shall live here 
 for two years. Here. Ten pounds 
 down. The bargain's made." 
 
 "Why, you see," said Dick, "my 
 name 's not Brass, and " 
 
 " Who said it was ? My name 's not 
 Brass. What then ? " 
 
 " The name of the master of the 
 house is," said Dick. 
 
 " I 'm glad of it," returned the single 
 gentleman ; " it 's a good name for a 
 lawyer. Coachman, you may go. So 
 may you, sir." 
 
 Mr. Swiveller was so much con- 
 founded by the single gentleman riding 
 roughshod over him at this rate, that 
 he stood looking at him almost as hard 
 as he had looked at Miss Sally. The 
 single gentleman, however, was not in 
 the slightest degree affected by this 
 
 circumstance, but proceeded with per- 
 fect composure to unwind the shawl 
 which was tied round his neck, and 
 then to pull off h-s boots. Freed of 
 these encumbrances, he went on to 
 divest himself of his other clothing, 
 which he folded up, piece by piece, and 
 ranged in order on the trunk. Then, 
 he pulled down the window-blinds, 
 drew the curtains, wound up his watch, 
 and, quite leisurely and methodically, 
 got into bed. 
 
 " Take down the bill," -were his 
 parting words, as he looked out from 
 between the curtains ; " and let no- 
 body call me till I ring the bell." 
 ' With that the curtains closed, and 
 he seemed to snore immediately. 
 
 " This is a most remarkable and 
 supernatural sort of house ! " said Mr. 
 Swiveller, as he walked into the office 
 with the bill in his hand. " She-dragons 
 in the business, conducting themselves 
 like professional gentlemen; plain cooks 
 of three feet high appearing myste- 
 riously from under ground ; strangers 
 walking in and going to bed without 
 leave or licence in the middle of the 
 day ! If he should be one of the 
 miraculous fellows that turn up now 
 and then, and has gone to sleep for two 
 years, I shall be in a pleasant situa- 
 tion. It 's my destiny, however, and I 
 hope Brass may like it. I shall be 
 sorry if he don't. But it 's no business 
 of mine I have nothing whatever to 
 do with it ! "
 
 158 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 MR. BIUSS on returning home 
 received the report of his clerk with 
 much complacency and satisfaction, 
 and was particular in inquiring after 
 the ten-pound note, which, proving on 
 examination to be a good and lawful 
 note of the Governor and Company of 
 the Bank of England, increased his 
 good-humour considerably. Indeed he 
 so overflowed with liberality and con- 
 descension, that, in the fullness of his 
 heart, he invited Mr. Swiveller to par- 
 take of a bowl of punch with him at 
 that remote and indefinite period 
 which is currently denominated " one 
 of these days," and paid him many 
 handsome compliments on the uncom- 
 mon aptitude for business which his 
 conduct on the first day of his devotion 
 to it had so plainly evinced. 
 
 It was a maxim with Mr. Brass that 
 the habit of paying compliments kept 
 a man's tongue oiled without any 
 expense ; and, as that useful member 
 ought never to grow rusty or creak in 
 turning on its hinges in the case of a 
 practitioner of the law, in whom it 
 should be always glib and easy, he lost 
 few opportunities of improving himself 
 by the utterance of handsome speeches 
 and eulogistic expressions. And this 
 had passed into such a habit with him, 
 that, if he could not be correctly said 
 to have his tongue at his fingers' ends, 
 he might certainly be said to have it 
 anywhere but in his face : which 
 being, as we have already seen, of a 
 harsh and repulsive character, was 
 not oiled so easily, but frowned above 
 all the smooth speeches one of 
 nature's beacon's, warning off those 
 who navigated the shoals and breakers 
 of the World, or of that dangerous 
 strait the Law, and admonishing them 
 to seek less treacherous harbours and 
 try their fortune elsewhere. 
 
 While Mr. Brass by turns over- 
 whelmed his clerk with compliments, 
 and inspected the ten-pound note, 
 Miss Sally showed little emotion and 
 that of no pleasurable kind, for as the 
 
 tendency of her legal practice had 
 been to fix her thoughts on small gains 
 and gripings, and to whet and sharpen 
 her natural wisdom, she was not a 
 little disappointed that the single gen- 
 tleman had obtained the lodgings at 
 such an easy rate, arguing that 
 when he was seen to have set his 
 mind upon them, he should have been 
 at the least charged double or treble 
 the usual terms, and that, in exact pro- 
 portion as he pressed forward, Mr. 
 Swiveller should have hung back. But 
 neither the good opinion of Mr. Brass, 
 nor the dissatisfaction of Miss Sally, 
 wrought any impression upon that 
 young gentleman, who, throwing the 
 responsibility of this and all other acts 
 and deeds thereafter to be done by 
 him, upon his unlucky destiny, was 
 quite resigned and comfortable : fully 
 prepared for the worst, and philo- 
 sophically indifferent to the best. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Richard," 
 said Brass, on the second day of Mr. 
 Swiveller's clerkship. "Sally found 
 you a second-hand stool, sir, yesterday 
 evening, in Whitechapel. She 's a rare 
 fellow at a bargain, I can tell you, Mr. 
 Richard. You '11 find that a first-rate 
 stool, sir, take my word for it." 
 
 " It 's rather a crazy one to look 
 at," said Dick. 
 
 " You '11 find it a most amazing 
 stool to sit down upon, you may 
 depend," returned Mr. Brass. "It 
 was bought in the open street just 
 opposite the hospital, and as it has 
 been standing there a month or two, 
 it has got rather dusty and a little 
 brown from being in the sun. that 's 
 all." 
 
 " I hope it hasn't got any fevers or 
 anything of that sort in it," said Dick, 
 sitting himself down discontentedly, 
 between Mr. Sampson and the chaste 
 Sally. " One of the legs is longer than 
 the others." 
 
 " Then we get a bit of timber in, 
 sir," retorted Brass. " Ha, ha, ha ! 
 We get a bit of timber in, sir, and
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 159 
 
 that 's another advantage of my sister's 
 going to market for us. Miss Brass, 
 Mr. Richard is the " 
 
 ** Will you keep quiet ? " inter- 
 rupted the fair subject of these re- 
 marks, looking up from her papers. 
 " How am I to work if you keep on 
 chattering 1 " 
 
 " What an uncertain chap you 
 are ! " returned the lawyer. " Some- 
 times you 're all for a chat. At another 
 time you're all for work. A man 
 never knows what humour he '11 find 
 you in." 
 
 a I 'm in a working humour now," 
 said Miss Sally, " so don't disturb me 
 if you please. And don't take him," 
 Miss Sally pointed with the feather of 
 her pen to Richard, " off his business. 
 He won't do more than he can help, I 
 dare say." 
 
 Mr. Brass had evidently a strong 
 inclination to make an angry reply, 
 but was deterred by prudent or timid 
 considerations, as he only muttered 
 something about aggravation and a 
 vagabond ; not associating the terms 
 with any individual, but mentioning 
 them as connected with some abstract 
 ideas which happened to occur to him. 
 They went on writing for a long time 
 in silence after this in such a dull 
 silence that Mr. Swiveller (who re- 
 quired excitement) had several times 
 fallen asleep, and written divers 
 strange words in an unknown charac- 
 ter with his eyes shut, when Miss 
 Sally at length broke in upon the mo- 
 notony of the office by pulling out the 
 little tin box, taking a noisy pinch of 
 snuff, and then expressing her opi- 
 nion that Mr. Richard Swiveller had 
 done it." 
 
 " Done what, ma'am ! " said Richard. 
 
 " Do you know," returned Miss 
 Brass, " that the lodger isn't up yet 
 that nothing has been seen or heard 
 of him since he went to bed yesterday 
 afternoon ! " 
 
 "Well, ma'am," said Dick, "I 
 suppose he may sleep his ten pound 
 out, in peace and quietness, if he 
 likes." ' 
 
 " Ah ! I begin to think he '11 never 
 wake," observed Miss Sally. 
 
 " It 's a very remarkable circum- 
 stance," said Brass, laying down his 
 pen ; " really, very remarkable. Mr. 
 Richard, you '11 remember, if this 
 gentleman should be found to have 
 hung himself to the bed-post, or any 
 unpleasant accident of that kind 
 should happen you '11 remember, Mr. 
 Richard, that this ten-pound note was 
 given to you in part payment of two 
 years' rent ? You '11 bear that in 
 mind, Mr. Richard ; you had better 
 make a note of it, sir, in case you 
 should ever be called upon to give 
 evidence." 
 
 Mr. Swiveller took a large sheet of 
 foolscap, and with a countenance of 
 profound gravity, began to make a 
 very small note in one corner. 
 
 "We can never be too cautious," 
 said Mr. Brass. " There is a deal of 
 wickedness going about the world, a 
 deal of wickedness. Did the gentleman 
 
 happen to say, sir but never mind 
 
 that at present, sir; finish that little 
 memorandum first." 
 
 Dick did so, and handed it to Mr. 
 Brass, who had dismounted from his 
 stool, and was walking up and down 
 the office. 
 
 " Oh, this is the memorandum, is 
 it ? " said Brass, running his eye over 
 the document. " Very good. Now, 
 Mr. Richard, did the gentleman say 
 anything else ? " 
 
 No." 
 
 " Are you sure, Mr. Richard," said 
 Brass, solemnly, " that the gentleman 
 said nothing else ? " 
 
 " Devil a word, sir," replied Dick 
 
 " Think again, sir," said Brass ; 
 " it 's my duty, sir, in the position in 
 which I stand, and as an honourable 
 member of the legal profession the 
 first profession in this country, sir, or 
 in any other country, or in any of the 
 planets that shine above us at night 
 and are supposed to be inhabited it 'a 
 my duty, sir, as an honourable mem- 
 ber of that profession, not to put to 
 you a leading question in a matter of 
 this delicacy and importance. Did the 
 gentleman, sir, who took the first floor 
 of you yesterday afternoon, and who 
 brought with him a box of property
 
 1GO 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 a box of property say anything more 
 than is set down in this memoran- 
 dum ? " 
 
 " Come, don't be a fool," said Miss 
 Sally. 
 
 Dick looked at her, and then at 
 Brass, and then at Miss Sally again, 
 and still said " No." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh ! Deuce take it, Mr. 
 Richard, how dull you are ! " cried 
 Brass, relaxing into a smile. " Did 
 he say any thing about his property ? 
 there!" 
 
 " That 's the way to put it," said 
 Miss Sally, nodding to her brother. 
 
 " Did he say, for instance," added 
 Brass, in a kind of comfortable, cozy 
 tone " I don't assert that he did say 
 so, mind ; I only ask you, to refresh 
 your memory did he say, for instance, 
 that he was a stranger in London 
 that it was not his humour or within 
 his ability to give any references that 
 he felt we had a right to require them 
 and that, in case anything should 
 happen to him, at any time, he parti- 
 cularly desired that whatever property 
 he had upon the premises should be 
 considered mine, as some slight recom- 
 pense for the trouble and annoyance 
 I should sustain and were you, in 
 short," added Brass, still more com- 
 fortably and cozily than before, " were 
 you induced to accept him on my behalf, 
 as a tenant, upon those conditions ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Dick. 
 
 " Why then, Mr. Richard," said 
 Brass, darting at him a supercilious 
 and reproachful look, " it 's my opinion 
 that you 've mistaken your calling, and 
 will never make a lawyer." 
 
 " Not if you live a thousand years," 
 added Miss Sally. Whereupon the 
 brother and sister took each a noisy 
 pinch of snuff from the little tin box, 
 and fell into a gloomy thoughtfulness. 
 
 Nothing further passed up to Mr. 
 Swiveller's dinner-time, which was at 
 three o'clock, and seemed about three 
 weeks in coming. At the first stroke 
 of the houi*, the new clerk disappeared. 
 At the last stroke of five, he reap- 
 peared, and the office, as if by magic, 
 became fragrant with the smell of gin 
 and water and lemon-peel. 
 
 " Mr. Richard," said Brass, " this 
 man 's not up yet. Nothing will wake 
 him, sir. What 's to be done 3 " 
 
 " I should let him have his sleep 
 out," returned Dick. 
 
 " Sleep out ! " cried Brass ; " why 
 he has been asleep now, six-aud-twenty 
 hours. We have been moving chests 
 of drawers over his head, we have 
 knocked double knocks at the street- 
 door, we have made the servant-girl 
 fall down stairs several times, (she 's a 
 light weight, and it don't hurt her 
 much,) but nothing wakes him." 
 
 " Perhaps a ladder," suggested Dick, 
 " and getting in at the first-floor win- 
 dow " 
 
 " But then there 's a door between ; 
 besides, the neighbourhood would be 
 up in arms," said Brass. 
 
 " What do you say to getting on the 
 roof of the house through the trap- 
 j door, and dropping down the chim- 
 ney ? " suggested Dick. 
 
 " That would be an excellent plan," 
 said Brass, "if anybody would be " 
 and here he looked very hard at Mr. 
 Swiveller " would be kind, and friend- 
 ly, and generous enough, to undertake 
 it. I dare say it would not be anything 
 like as disagreeable as one supposes." 
 
 Dick had made the suggestion, think- 
 ing that the duty might possibly fall 
 within Miss Sally's department. As 
 he said nothing further, and declined 
 taking the hint, Mr. Brass was fain to 
 propose that they should go up stairs 
 together, and make a last effort to 
 awaken the sleeper by some less vio- 
 lent means, which, if they failed on 
 this last trial, must positively be suc- 
 ceeded by stronger measures. Mr. 
 Swiveller, assenting, armed himself 
 with his stool and the large ruler, and 
 repaired with his employer to the 
 scene of action, where Miss Brass was 
 already ringing a hand-bell with all her 
 might, and yet without producing the 
 smallest effect upon their mysterious 
 lodger. 
 
 " There are his boots, Mr. Richard ! " 
 said Brass. 
 
 " Very obstinate-looking articles they 
 are too," quoth Richard Swiveller. 
 And truly, they were as sturdy and
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 16) 
 
 bluff a pair of boots as one would wish 
 to see ; as firmly planted on the ground 
 as if their owner's legs and feet had 
 been in them ; and seeming, with their 
 broad soles and blunt toes, to hold 
 possession of their place by main force. 
 
 " I can't see anything but the cur- 
 tain of the bed," said Brass, applying 
 his eye to the keyhole of the door. " Is 
 he a strong man, Mr. Richard 1 " 
 
 ** Very," answered Dick. 
 
 " It would be an extremely unplea- 
 sant circumstance if he was to bounce 
 out suddenly," said Brass. " Keep the 
 stairs clear. 1 should be more than a 
 match for him, of course, but I 'm the 
 master of the house, and the laws of 
 hospitality must be respected. Hallo 
 there ! Hallo, hallo ! " 
 
 While Mr. Brass, with his eye curi- 
 ously twisted into the keyhole, uttered 
 these sounds as a means of attracting 
 the lodger's attention, and while Miss 
 Brass plied the hand-bell, Mr. Swivel- 
 ler put his stool close against the wall 
 by the side of the door, and mounting 
 on the top and standing bolt upright, 
 so that if the lodger did make a rush, 
 he would most probably pass him in 
 its onward fury, began a violent bat- 
 tery with the ruler upon the upper 
 panels of the door. Captivated with 
 his own ingenuity, and confident in the 
 strength of his position, which he had 
 taken up after the method of those 
 hardy individuals who open the pit 
 and gallery doors of theatres on 
 crowded nights, Mr. Swiveller rained 
 down such a shower of blows, that the 
 noise of the bell was drowned ; and 
 the small servant, who lingered on the 
 stairs below, ready to fly at a moment's 
 notice, was obliged to hold her ears 
 lest she should be rendered deaf for life. 
 
 Suddenly the door was unlocked on 
 the inside, and flung violently open. 
 The small servant fled to the coal- 
 cellar ; Miss Sally dived into her own 
 bed-room ; Mr. Brass, who was not 
 remarkable for personal courage, ran 
 into the next street, and finding that 
 nobody followed him, armed with a 
 poker or other offensive weapon, put 
 his hands in his pockets, walked very 
 slowly all at once, and whistled. 
 
 No. 74. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Swiveller, on the 
 top of the stool, drew himself into as 
 flat a shape as possible against the 
 wall, and looked, not unconcernedly, 
 down upon the single gentleman, who 
 appeared at the door growling and 
 cursing in a very awful manner, and, 
 with the boots in his hand, seemed to 
 have an intention of hurling them 
 down stairs on speculation. This idea, 
 however, he abandoned. He was turn- 
 ing into his room again, still growling 
 vengefully, when his eyes met those of 
 the watchful Richard. 
 
 " Have you been making that hor- 
 rible noise ? " said the single gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " I have been helping, sir," returned 
 Dick, keeping his eye upon him, and 
 waving the ruler gently in his right 
 hand, as an indication of what the 
 single gentleman had to expect if he 
 attempted any violence. 
 
 " How dare you then," said the 
 lodger, Eh ? " ' 
 
 To this, Dick made no other reply 
 than by inquiring whether the lodger 
 held it to be consistent with the con- 
 duct and character of a gentleman to 
 go to sleep for six-and-twenty hours at 
 a stretch, and whether the peace of an 
 amiable and virtuous family was to 
 weigh as nothing in the balance. 
 
 " Is my peace nothing ? " said the 
 single gentleman. 
 
 " Is their peace nothing sir ? " re- 
 turned Dick. " I don't wish to hold 
 out any threats, sir indeed the law 
 does not allow of threats, for to threaten 
 is an indictable offence but if ever 
 you do that again, take care you're 
 not sat upon by the coroner and buried 
 in a cross road before you wake. We 
 have been distracted with fears that 
 you were dead sir," said Dick, gently 
 sliding to the ground, " and the short 
 and the long of it is, that we cannot 
 allow single gentlemen to come into 
 this establishment and sleep like double 
 gentlemen without paying extra for it." 
 Indeed ! " cried the lodger. 
 Yes sir, indeed," returned Dick, 
 yielding to his destiny and saying 
 whatever came uppermost ; " an equal 
 quantity of slumber was never got out 
 
 M 11
 
 162 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP 
 
 of one bed and bedstead, and if you 're 
 going to sleep in that way, you must 
 pay for a double-bedded room." 
 
 Instead of being thrown into a 
 greater passion by these remarks, the 
 lodger lapsed into a broad grin and 
 looked at Mr. Swiveller with twink- 
 ling eyes. He was a brown-faced 
 sun-burnt man, and appeared browner 
 and more sun-burnt from having a 
 white nightcap on. As it was clear 
 that he was a choleric fellow in some 
 respects, Mr. Swiveller was relieved to 
 find him in such good humour, and, to 
 encourage him in it, smiled himself. 
 
 The lodger, in the testiness of being 
 so rudely roused, had pushed his 
 nightcap very much on one side of his 
 bald head. This gave him a rakish 
 eccentric air which, now that he had 
 leisure to observe it, charmed Mr. 
 Swiveller exceedingly ; therefore, by 
 way of propitiation, he expressed his 
 hope that the gentleman was going to 
 get up, and further that he would 
 never do so any more. 
 
 " Come here, you impudent rascal ! " 
 was the lodger's answer as he re-entered 
 his room. 
 
 Mr. Swiveller followed him in, leav- 
 ing the stool outside, but reserving the 
 ruler in case of a surprise. He rather 
 congratulated himself on his prudence 
 when the single gentleman, without 
 notice or explanation of any kind, 
 double-locked the door. 
 
 " Can you drink anything ? " was 
 his next inquiry. 
 
 Mr. Swiveller replied that he had 
 very recently been assuaging the 
 pangs of thirst, but that he was still 
 open to " a modest quencher," if the 
 materials were at hand. Without 
 another word spoken on either side, 
 the lodger took from his great trunk, 
 a kind of temple, shining as of polished 
 silver, and placed it carefully on the 
 table. 
 
 Greatly interested in his proceed- 
 ings, Mr. Swiveller observed him 
 closely. Into one little chamber of 
 this temple, he dropped an egg ; into 
 another, some coffee ; into a third a 
 compact piece of raw steak from a 
 neat tin case ; into a fourth, he poured 
 
 some water. Then, with the aid of a 
 phosphorus-box and some matches, 
 he procured a light and applied it to 
 a spirit-lamp which had a place of its 
 own below the temple ; then, he shut 
 down the lids of all the little cham- 
 bers ; then he opened them ; and 
 then, by some wonderful and unseen 
 agency, the steak was done, the egg 
 was boiled, the coffee was accurately 
 prepared, and his breakfast was 
 ready. 
 
 " Hot water " said the lodger, 
 handing it to Mr. Swiveller with as 
 much coolness as if he had a kitchen 
 fire before him " extraordinary rum 
 sugar and a travelling glass. Mix 
 for yourself. And make haste." 
 
 Dick complied, his eyes wandering 
 all the time from the temple on the 
 table, which seemed to do everything, 
 to the great trunk which seemed to 
 hold everything. The lodger took 
 his breakfast like a man who was 
 used to work these miracles, and 
 thought nothing of them. 
 
 " The man of the house is a lawyer, 
 is he not ? " said the lodger. 
 
 Dick nodded. The rum was 
 amazing. 
 
 " The woman of the house what 's 
 she?" 
 
 "A dragon," said Dick. 
 
 The single gentleman, perhaps 
 because he had met with such things 
 in his travels, or perhaps because he 
 was a single gentleman, evinced no 
 surprise, but merely inquired " Wife 
 
 or Sister?" "Sister," said Dick 
 
 " So much the better," said the single 
 gentleman, "he can get rid of her 
 when he likes." 
 
 "I want to do as I like, young 
 man," he added after a short silence 5 
 " to go to bed when I like, get up 
 when I h'ke, come in when I like, go 
 out when I like, to be asked no 
 questions and be surrounded by no 
 spies. In this last respect, servants 
 are the devil. There's only one 
 here." 
 
 " And a very little one," said Dick. 
 
 " And a very little one," repeated 
 the lodger. "Well, the place will 
 suit me, will it \ "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 1G3 
 
 Yes," said Dick. 
 " Sharks, I suppose ? " said 
 lodger. 
 
 the 
 
 Dick nodded assent, and drained 
 
 to hear his account of the conver- 
 sation. 
 
 This Mr. Swiveller gave them 
 faithfully as regarded the wishes and 
 character of the single gentleman, 
 
 his glass. 
 
 " Let them know my humour," i and poetically as concerned the great 
 said the single gentleman, rising. ! trunk, of which he gave a description 
 ' If they disturb me, they lose a good i more remarkable for brilliancy of 
 tenant. If they know me to be that, imagination than a strict adherence 
 they know enough. If they try to j to truth ; declaring, with many strong 
 know more, it 's a notice to quit. It's asseverations, that it contained a 
 better to understand these things at specimen of every kind of rich food 
 once. Good day." i and wine, known in these times, and 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said Dick, in particular that it was of a self- 
 halting in his passage to the door, | acting kind and served up whatever 
 which the lodger prepared to open. I was required, as he supposed by 
 
 " When he who adores thee has left 
 but the name " 
 
 What do you mean ? " 
 
 " But the name,." said Dick 
 " has left but the nam< 
 letters or parcels " 
 
 "I never have any," returned the 
 
 clock-work. He also gave them to 
 understand that the cooking appa- 
 ratus roasted a fine piece of sirloin 
 of beef, weighing about six pounds 
 in case of avoirdupoise, in two minutes and a 
 quarter, as he had himself witnessed, 
 
 and proved by his sense of taste ; 
 
 and further, that, however the effect 
 was produced, he had distinctly seen 
 water boil and bubble up when 
 
 lodger. 
 
 " Or in case anybody should call." 
 
 " Nobody ever calls on me." 
 
 " If any mistake should arise from j the single gentleman winked" ; from 
 not having the name, don't say it i which facts he (Mr. Swiveller) was 
 was my fault, sir," added Dick, still | led to infer that the lodger was some 
 lingering. " Oh blame not the j great conjuror or chemist, or both, 
 bard " whose residence under that roof could 
 
 "I'll blame nobody," said the 
 lodger, with such irascibility that in 
 a moment Dick found himself on 
 
 not fail at some future day to shed a 
 great credit and distinction on the 
 name of Brass, and add a new interest 
 to the history of Bevis Marks. 
 
 There was one point which Mr. 
 Swiveller deemed it unnecessary to 
 
 the staircase, and the locked door 
 between them. 
 
 Mr. Brass and Miss Sally were 
 
 lurking hard by, having been, indeed, | enlarge upon, and that was the fact 
 only routed from the keyhole by Mr. i of the modest quencher, which, by 
 Swiveller's abrupt exit. As their 
 utmost exertions had not enabled 
 them to overhear a word of the 
 
 interview, however, in consequence 
 of a quarrel for precedence, which, 
 though limited of necessity to pushes 
 and pinches and such quiet panto- 
 mime, had lasted the whole time, 
 they hurried him down to the office 
 
 reason of its intrinsic strength and its 
 coming close upon the heels of the 
 temperate beverage he had discussed 
 
 at dinner, awakened a slight degree 
 of fever, and rendered necessary two 
 or three other modest quenchers at 
 the public-house in the course of the 
 evening.
 
 164 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 As the single gentleman after some 
 weeks' occupation of his lodgings, still 
 declined to correspond, by word or 
 gesture, either with Mr. Brass or his 
 sister Sally, but invariably chose Rich- 
 ard Swiveller as his channel of com- 
 munication ; and as he proved himself 
 in all respects a highly desirable in- 
 mate, paying for everything before- 
 hand, giving very little trouble, making 
 no noise, and keeping early hours ; 
 Mr. Richard imperceptibly rose to an 
 important position in the family, as one 
 who had influence over this mysterious 
 lodger, and could negotiate with him, 
 for good or evil, when nobody else 
 durst approach his person. 
 
 If the truth must be told, even Mr. 
 Swiveller's approaches to the single 
 gentleman were of a very distant kind, 
 and met with small encouragement ; 
 but, as he never returned from a mono- 
 syllabic conference with the unknown, 
 without quoting such expressions as 
 "Swiveller, I know I can rely upon 
 you," " I have no hesitation in say- 
 ing, Swiveller, that I entertain a regard 
 for you," " Swiveller, you are my 
 friend, and will stand by me I am 
 sure," with many other short speeches 
 of the same familiar and confiding 
 kind, purporting to have been ad- 
 dressed by the single gentleman to 
 himself, and to form the staple of their 
 ordinary discourse, neither Mr. Brass 
 nor Miss Sally for a moment ques- 
 tioned the extent of his influence, but 
 accorded to him their fullest and most 
 unqualified belief. 
 
 But quite apart from, and indepen- 
 dent of, this source of popularity, Mr. 
 Swiveller had another, which promised 
 to be equally enduring, and to lighten 
 his position considerably. 
 
 He found favour in the eyes of Miss 
 Sally Brass. Let not the light scorners 
 of female fascination erect their ears 
 to listen to a new tale of love which 
 shall serve them for a jest ; for Miss 
 Brass, however accurately formed to 
 be beloved, was not of the loving kind. 
 
 That amiable virgin, having clung to 
 the skirts of the Law from her earliest 
 youth ; having sustained herself by 
 their aid, as it were, in her first run- 
 ning alone, and maintained a firm grasp 
 upon them ever since ; had passed her 
 life in a kind of legal childhood. She 
 had been remarkable, when a tender 
 prattler, for an uncommon talent in 
 counterfeiting the walk and manner of 
 a bailiff : in which character she had 
 learned to tap her little playfellows on 
 the shoulder, and to carry them off to 
 imaginary sponging-houses, with a cor- 
 rectness of imitation which was tho 
 surprise and delight of all who wit- 
 nessed her performances, arid which 
 was only to be exceeded by her exqui- 
 site manner of putting an execution 
 into her doll's house, and taking an 
 exact inventory of the chairs and 
 tables. These artless sports had na- 
 turally soothed and cheered the declinu 
 of her widowed father : a most exem- 
 plary gentleman, (called "old Foxey" 
 by his friends from his extreme saga- 
 city,) who encouraged them to the 
 utmost, and whose chief regret on 
 finding that he drew near to Hounds- 
 ditch churchyard, was, that his daughter 
 could not take out an attorney's certi- 
 ficate and hold a place upon the roll. 
 Filled with this affectionate and touch- 
 ing sorrow, he had solemnly confided 
 her to his son Sampson as an invalu- 
 able auxiliary ; and from the old 
 gentleman's decease to the period of 
 which we treat, Miss Sally Brass had 
 been the prop and pillar of his business. 
 It is obvious that, having devoted 
 herself from infancy to this one pur- 
 suit and study, Miss Brass could know 
 but little of the world, otherwise than 
 in connection with the law ; and that 
 from a lady gifted with such high 
 tastes, proficiency in those gentler and 
 softer arts in which women usually 
 excel, was scarcely to be looked for. 
 Miss Sally's accomplishments were all 
 of a masculine and strictly legal kind. 
 They began with the practice of an
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 165 
 
 attorney and they ended with it. She 
 was in a state of lawful innocence, so 
 to speak. The law had been her nurse. 
 And, as bandy-legs or such physical 
 deformities in children are held to be 
 the consequence of bad nursing, so, if 
 in a mind so beautiful any moral 
 twist or bandincss could be found, 
 Miss Sally Brass's nurse was alone to 
 blame. 
 
 It was on this lady, then, that Mr. 
 Swiveller burst in full freshness as 
 something new and hitherto undreamed 
 of, lighting up the office with scraps of 
 song and merriment, conjuring with 
 inkstands and boxes of wafers, catching 
 three oranges in one hand, balancing 
 stools upon his chin and p^iknives on 
 his nose, and constantly performing 
 a hundred other feats with equal inge- 
 nuity ; for with such nnbendings did 
 Richard, in Mr. Brass's absence, re- 
 lieve the tedium of his confinement. 
 These social qualities, which Miss 
 Sally first discovered by accident, 
 gradually made such an impression 
 upon her, that she would entreat Mr. 
 Swiveller to relax as though she were 
 not by, which Mr. Swiveller, nothing 
 loth, would readily consent to do. By 
 these means a friendship sprung up 
 between them. Mr. Swiveller gradu- 
 ally came to look upon her as her 
 brother Sampson did, and as he would 
 have looked upon any other clerk. 
 He imparted to her the mystery of 
 going the odd man or plain Newmarket 
 for fruit, ginger-beer, baked potatoes, 
 or even a modest quencher, of which 
 Miss Brass did not scruple to partake. 
 He would often persuade her to under- 
 take his share of writing in addition to 
 her own ; nay, he would sometimes 
 reward her with a hearty slap on the 
 back, and protest that she was a devil- 
 ish good fellow, a jolly dog, and so 
 forth ; all of which compliments Miss 
 Sally would receive in entire good 
 part and with perfect satisfaction. 
 
 One circumstance troubled Mr. Swi- 
 veller's mind very much, and that was 
 that the small servant always remained 
 somewhere in the bowels of the earth 
 under Bevis Marks, and never came 
 to the surface unless the single gentle- 
 
 man rang his bell, when she would 
 answer it and immediately disappear 
 again. She never went out, or came 
 into the office, or had a clean face, or 
 took off the coarse apron, or looked 
 out of any one of the windows, or 
 stood at the street-door for a breath 
 of air, or had any rest or enjoyment 
 whatever. Nobody ever came to see 
 her, nobody spoke of her, nobody cared 
 about her. Mr. Brass had said once, 
 that he believed she was a " love- 
 child," (which means anything but a 
 child of love,) and that was all the 
 information Richard Swiveller could 
 obtain. 
 
 " It's of no use asking the dragon," 
 thought Dick one day, as he sat con- 
 templating the features of Miss Sally 
 Brass. "I suspect if I asked any 
 questions on that head, our alliance 
 would be at an end. I wonder whether 
 she is a dragon by the bye, or some- 
 thing in the mermaid way. She has 
 rather a scaly appearance. But mer- 
 maids are fond of looking at them- 
 selves in the glass, which she can't be. 
 And they have a habit of combing 
 their hair, which ehe hasn't. No, 
 she 's a dragon." 
 
 " Where are you going, old fellow," 
 said Dick aloud, as Miss Sally wiped 
 her pen as usual on the green dress, 
 and uprose from her seat. 
 
 " To dinner," answered the dragon. 
 
 " To dinner ! " thought Dick, " that 's 
 another circumstance. I don't believe 
 that small servant ever has anything 
 to eat." 
 
 " Sammy won't be home," said Miss 
 Brass. " Stop 'till 1 come back. I 
 sha'n't be long." 
 
 Dick nodded, and followed Miss 
 Brass with his eyes to the door, and 
 with his ears to a little back parlour, 
 where she and her brother took their 
 meals. 
 
 " Now," said Dick, walking up and 
 down with his hands in his pockets, 
 " I 'd give some tiling if I had it to 
 know how they use that child, and 
 where they keep her. My mother 
 must have been a very inquisitive 
 woman ; I have no doubt I 'm marked 
 with a note of interrogation some-
 
 166 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 tvhere. My feelings I smother, but 
 thou hast been the cause of this an- 
 guish my upon my word," said Mr. 
 Swiveller, checking himself and falling 
 thoughtfully into the client's chair, 
 " I should like to know how they use 
 her ! " 
 
 After running on, in this way, for 
 some time, Mr. Swiveller softly opened 
 the office door, with the intention of 
 darting across the street for a glass of 
 the mild porter. At that moment he 
 caught a parting glimpse of the brown 
 head-dress of Miss Brass flitting down 
 the kitchen stairs. " And by Jove ! " 
 thought Dick, " she 's going to feed the 
 Mv.rchioness. Now or never ! " 
 
 First peeping over the handrail and 
 allowing the head-dress to disappear 
 in the darkness below, he groped his 
 way down, and arrived at the door of 
 a back kitchen immediately after Miss 
 Brass had entered the same, bearing 
 in her hand a cold leg of mutton. It 
 was a very dark miserable place, very 
 low, and very damp : the walls dis- 
 figured by a thousand rents and 
 blotches. The water was trickling 
 out of a leaky butt, and a most 
 wretched cat was lapping up the drops 
 with the sickly eagerness of starvation. 
 The grate, which was a wide one, was 
 wound and screwed up tight, so as to 
 hold no more than a little thin sand- 
 wich of fire. Everything was locked 
 up ; the coal-cellar, the candle-box, 
 the salt-box, the meat-safe, were all 
 padlocked. There was nothing that a 
 beetle could have lunched upon. The 
 pinched and meagre aspect of the 
 place would have killed a chamelion : 
 he would have known, at the first 
 mouthful, that the air was not eatable, 
 and must have given up the ghost in 
 despair. 
 
 The small servant stood with humility 
 in presence of Miss Sally, and hung 
 her head. 
 
 "Are you there ?" said Miss Sally. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," was the answer in a 
 weak voice. 
 
 " Go further away from the leg of 
 mutton or you'll be picking it, I know," 
 eaid Miss Sally. 
 
 The girl withdrew into a corner, 
 
 while Miss Brass took a key from her 
 pocket, and opening the safe, brought 
 from it a dreary waste of cold potatoes, 
 looking as eatable as Stonehenge. This 
 she placed before the small servant, 
 ordering her to sit down before it, and 
 then, taking up a great carving-knife, 
 made a mighty show of sharpening it 
 upon the carving-fork. 
 
 " Do you see this ?" said Miss Brass, 
 slicing off about two square inches of 
 cold mutton, after all this preparation, 
 and holding it out on the point of the 
 fork. 
 
 The small servant looked hard 
 enough at it with her hungry eyes to 
 see every shred of it, small as it was, 
 and answered, " yes." 
 
 " Then don't you ever go and say," 
 retorted Miss Sally, " that you hadn't 
 meat here. There, eat it up." 
 
 This was soon done. " Now, do 
 you want any more ? " said Miss 
 Sally. 
 
 The hungry creature answered with 
 a faint " No." They were evidently 
 going through an established form. 
 
 "You've been helped once to meat," 
 said Miss Brass, summing up the facts ; 
 " you have had as much as you can 
 eat, you 're asked if you want any more, 
 and you answer, 'no!' Then don't 
 you ever go and say you were allow- 
 anced, mind that." 
 
 With those words, Miss Sally put 
 the meat away and locked the safe, 
 and then drawing near to the small 
 servant, overlooked her while she 
 finished the potatoes. 
 
 It was plain that some extraordi- 
 nary grudge was working in Miss 
 Brass's gentle breast, and that it was 
 this which impelled her, without the 
 smallest present cause, to rap the 
 child with the blade of the knife, now 
 on her hand, now on her head, and 
 now on her back, as if she found it 
 quite impossible to stand so close to 
 her without administering a few slight 
 knocks. But Mr. Swiveller was not a 
 little surprised to see his fellow-clerk, 
 after walking slowly backwards to- 
 wards the door, as if she were trying 
 to withdraw herself from the room but 
 could not accomplish it, dart suddenly
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 167 
 
 forward, and falling on the small ser- 
 vant give her some hard blows with 
 her clenched hand. The victim cried, 
 
 feared to raise her voice, and Miss 
 Sally, comforting herself with a pinch 
 of snuff, ascended the stairs, just as 
 
 but in a subdued manner as if she | Richard had safely reached the office. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 THE single gentleman among his their fists, and imitated Punch with 
 other peculiarities and he had a very their tender voices ; that the office- 
 plentiful stock, of which he every day window was rendered opaque by flat- 
 furnished some new specimen took a tened noses : and the key-hole of the 
 most extraordinary and remarkable street-door luminous with eyes ; that 
 interest in the exhibition of Punch. ! every time the single gentleman or 
 If the sound of a Punch's voice, at either of his guests was seen at the 
 ever so remote a distance, reached upper window, or so much as the end 
 Bevis Marks, the single gentleman, ' of one of their noses was visible, there 
 though in bed and asleep, would start was a great shout of execration from 
 up, and, hurrying on his clothes, make ; the excluded mob, who remained 
 for the spot with all speed, and pre- 1 howling and yelling, and refusing con- 
 sently return at the head of a long j solation, until the exhibitors were de- 
 procession of idlers, having in the j livered up to them to be attended 
 midst the theatre and its proprietors. | elsewhere. It was sufficient, in short, 
 Straightway, the stage would be set | to know that Bevis Marks was revolu- 
 up in front of Mr. Brass's house ; the tionised by these popular movements, 
 single gentleman would establish him- ! and that peace and quietness fled from 
 self at the first floor window ; and the i its precincts. 
 
 entertainment would proceed, with all j Nobody was rendered more indig- 
 its exciting accompaniments of fife j nant by these proceedings than Mr. 
 and drum and shout, to the excessive | Sampson Brass, who, as he could by 
 consternation of all sober votaries of , no means afford to lose so profitable 
 business in that silent thoroughfare, j an inmate, deemed it prudent to pocket 
 It might have been expected that his lodger's affront along with his cash, 
 when the play was done, both players and to annoy the audiences who clus- 
 and audience would have dispersed ; tered round his door by such imper- 
 but the epilogue was as bad as the feet means of retaliation as were open 
 play, for no sooner was the Devil dead, ' to him, and which were confined to 
 
 than the manager of the puppets and 
 his partner were summoned by the 
 single gentleman to his chamber, where 
 they were regaled with strong waters 
 from his private store, and where they 
 held with him long conversations, the 
 purport of which no human being 
 could fathom. But the secret of these 
 discussions was of little importance. 
 It was sufficient to know that while 
 they were proceeding, the concourse 
 without still lingered round the house ; 
 that boys beat upon the drum with 
 
 the trickling down of foul water on 
 their heads from unseen watering pots, 
 pelting them with fragments of tile 
 and mortar from the roof of the house, 
 and bribing the drivers of hackney 
 cabriolets to come suddenly round the 
 corner and dash in among them preci- 
 pitately. It may, at first sight, be 
 matter of surprise to the thoughtless 
 few that Mr. Brass, being a profes- 
 sional gentleman, should not have 
 legally indicted some party or parties, 
 active in the promotion of the nuisance;
 
 163 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 but they will be good enough to re- 
 member, that as Doctors seldom take 
 their own prescriptions, and Divines 
 do not always practise what they 
 preach, so, lawyers are shy of meddling 
 with the Law on their own account : 
 knowing it to be an edged tool of un- 
 certain application, very expensive in 
 the working, and rather remarkable for 
 its properties of close shaving, than for 
 its always shaving the right person. 
 
 " Come," said Mr. Brass one after- 
 noon, " this is two days without a 
 Punch. I 'm in hopes he has run 
 through 'em all, at last." 
 
 " Why are you in hopes ? " returned 
 Miss Sally. What harm do they do ?" 
 
 " Here 's a pretty sort of a fellow ! " 
 cried Brass, laying down his pen in 
 despair. " Now here 'a an aggravating 
 animal ! " 
 
 " Well, what harm do they do 1 " 
 retorted Sally. 
 
 " What harm ! " cried Brass. " Is 
 it no harm to have a constant hallooing 
 and hooting under one's very nose, 
 distracting one from business, and 
 making one grind one's teeth with 
 vexation ? Is it no harm to be blinded 
 and choked up, and have the king's 
 highway stopped with a set of scream- 
 ers and roarers whose throats must be 
 made of of 
 
 " Brass," suggested Mr. Swiveller. 
 
 " Ah ! of brass," said the lawyer, 
 glancing at his clerk, to assure him- 
 self that he had suggested the word in 
 good faith and without any sinister in-" 
 tention. " Is that no harm ? " 
 
 The lawyer stopped short in his 
 invective, and listening for a moment, 
 and recognising the well-known voice, 
 rested his head upon his hand, raised 
 his eyes to the ceiling, and muttered 
 faintly, 
 
 " There 's another ! " 
 
 Up went the single gentleman's 
 window directly. 
 
 " There 's another," repeated Brass; 
 " and if I could get a break and four 
 blood horses to cut into the Marks 
 when the crowd is at its thickest, I 'd 
 give eighteenpence and never grudge 
 it!" 
 
 The distant squeak was heard again. 
 
 The single gentleman's door burst 
 open. He ran violently down the 
 stairs, out into the street, and so past 
 the window, without any hat, towards 
 the quarter whence the sound pro- 
 ceeded bent, no doubt, upon securing 
 the strangers' services directly. 
 
 " I wish I only knew who his friends 
 were," muttered Sampson, filling his 
 pocket with papers ; " if they 'd just 
 get up a pretty little Commission de 
 lunatico at the Gray's Inn Coffee 
 House, and give me the job, I 'd be 
 content to have the lodgings empty for 
 one while, at all events." 
 
 With which words, and knocking 
 his hat over his eyes as if for the pur- 
 pose of shutting out even a glimpse of 
 the dreadful visitation, Mr. Brass 
 rushed from the house and hurried 
 away. 
 
 As Mr. Swiveller was decidedly fa- 
 vourable to these performances, upon 
 the ground that looking at a Punch, 
 or indeed looking at anything out of 
 window, was better than working ; and 
 as he had been, for this reason, at some 
 pains to awaken in his fellow clerk a 
 sense of their beauties and manifold 
 deserts ; both he and Miss Sally rose as 
 with one accord and took up their 
 positions at the window : upon the sill 
 whereof, as in a post of honour, sundry 
 young ladies and gentlemen who were 
 employed in the dry nurture of babies, 
 and who made a point of being pre- 
 sent, with their young charges, on such 
 occasions, had already established them- 
 selves as comfortably as the circum- 
 stances would allow. 
 
 The glass being dim, Mr. Swiveller, 
 agreeably to a friendly custom which 
 he had established between them, 
 hitched off the brown head-dress from 
 Miss Sally's head, and dusted it care- 
 fully therewith. By the time he had 
 handed it back, and its beautiful wearer 
 had put it on again (which she did 
 with perfect composure and indiffer- 
 ence), the lodger returned with the 
 show and showmen at his heels, and a 
 strong addition to the body of specta- 
 tors. The exhibitor disappeared with 
 all speed behind the drapery ; and his 
 partner, stationing himself by the side
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 169 
 
 of the Theatre, surveyed the audience 
 with a remarkable expression of mel- 
 ancholy, which became more remark- 
 able still when he breathed a hornpipe 
 tnne into that sweet musical instru- 
 ment which is popularly termed a 
 mouth-organ, without at all changing 
 the mournful expression of the upper 
 part of his face, though his mouth 
 and chin were, of necessity, in lively 
 spasms. 
 
 The drama proceeded to its close, 
 and held the spectators enchained in 
 the customary manner. The sensation 
 which kindles in large assemblies, 
 when they are relieved from a state of 
 breathless suspense and are again free 
 to speak and move, was yet rife, 
 when the lodger, as usual, summoned 
 the men up stairs. 
 
 " Both of you," he called from the 
 window ; for only the actual exhibitor 
 a little fat man prepared to obey 
 the summons. " I want to talk to you. 
 Come both of you ! " 
 
 "Come, Tommy," said the little 
 man. 
 
 " I an't a talker," replied the other. 
 '' Tell him so. What should I go and 
 talk for ? " 
 
 " Don't you see the gentleman's got 
 a bottle and glass up there ? " returned 
 the little man. 
 
 " And couldn't you have said so, at 
 first ? " retorted the other with sudden 
 alacrity. " Now, what are you wait- 
 ing for 1 Are you going to keep the 
 gentleman expecting us all day ? 
 haven't you no manners ? " 
 
 With this remonstrance, the melan- 
 choly man, who was no other than 
 Mr. Thomas Codlin, pushed past his 
 friend and brother hi the craft, Mr. 
 Harris, otherwise Short or Trotters, 
 and hurried before him to the single 
 gentleman's apartment. 
 
 " Now my men," said the single 
 gentleman ; " you have done very well. 
 What will you take \ Tell that little 
 man behind, to shut the door." 
 
 " Shut the door, can't you ? " said 
 Mr. Codlin, turning gruffly to his 
 friend. " You might have kuowed 
 that the gentleman wanted the door 
 shut, without being told, I think." 
 
 Mr. Short obeyed, observing under 
 his breath that his friend seemed un- 
 usually " cranky," and expressing a 
 hope that there was no dairy in the 
 neighbourhood, or his temper would 
 certainly spoil its contents. 
 
 The gentleman pointed to a couple 
 of chairs, and intimated by an empha- 
 tic nod of his head that he expected 
 them to be seated. Messrs. Codlin and 
 Short, after looking at each other with 
 considerable doubt and indecision, at 
 length sat down each on the extreme 
 edge of the chair pointed out to him 
 and held their hats very tight, while 
 the single gentleman filled a couple of 
 glasses from a bottle on the table be- 
 side him, and presented them in due 
 form. 
 
 " You 're pretty well browned by 
 the sun, both of you," said their enter- 
 tainer. " Have you been travelling ? " 
 Mr. Short replied in the affirmative 
 with a nod and a smile. Mr. Codlin 
 added a corroborative nod and a short 
 groan, as if he still felt the weight of 
 the Temple on his shoulders. 
 
 " To fairs, markets, races, and so 
 forth, I suppose ? " pursued the single 
 gentleman. 
 
 " Yes, sir," returned Short, " pretty 
 nigh all over the West of England." 
 
 '' I have talked to men of your 
 craft from North, East, and South," 
 returned their host, in rather a hasty 
 manner ; " but I never lighted on any 
 from the West before." 
 
 " It 's our reg'lar summer circuit is 
 the West, master," said Short ; " that's 
 where it is. We takes the East of Lon- 
 don hi the spring and winter, and the 
 West of England in the summer time. 
 Many 's the hard day's walking in rain 
 and mud, and with never a penny 
 earned, we 've had down in the West." 
 " Let me fill your glass again." 
 " Much obleeged to you sir, I think 
 will," said Mr. Codlin, suddenly 
 thrusting in his own and turning 
 Short's aside. " I 'm the sufferer, sir, 
 in all the travelling, and in all the 
 staying at home. In town or country, 
 wet or dry, hot or cold, Tom Codlin 
 suffers. But Tom Codlin isn't to com- 
 alain for all that. Oh, no ! Short may
 
 170 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 complain, but if Codlin grumbles by 
 so much as a word oh dear, down 
 with him, down with him directly. 
 It isn't his place to grumble. That 's 
 quite out of the question. 
 
 " Codlin an't without his usefulness," 
 observed Short with an arch look, 
 "but he don't always keep his eyes 
 open. He falls asleep sometimes, you 
 know. Remember them last races, 
 Tommy." 
 
 " Will you ijever leave off aggra- 
 vating a man ?" said Codlin. " It 's very 
 like I was asleep when five-and-ten- 
 pence was collected, in one round, isn't 
 it ? I was attending to my business, and 
 couldn't have my eyes in twenty places 
 at once, like a peacock, no more than 
 you could. If I an't a match for an 
 old man and a young child, you an't 
 neither, so don't throw that out against 
 me, for the cap fits your head quite as 
 correct as it fits mine." 
 
 (< You may as well drop the subject, 
 Tom," said* Short. " It isn't particular 
 agreeable to the gentleman, I dare say." 
 
 " Then you shouldn't have brought 
 it up," returned Mr. Codlin ; " and I 
 ask the gentleman's pardon on your 
 account, as a giddy chap that likes to 
 hear himself talk, and don't much care 
 what he talks about, so that he does 
 talk." 
 
 Their entertainer had sat perfectly 
 quiet in the beginning of this dispute, 
 looking first at one man and then at 
 the other, as if he were lying in wait 
 for an opportunity of putting some 
 further question, or reverting to that 
 from which the discourse had strayed. 
 But, from the point where Mr. Codlin 
 was chai'ged with sleepiness, he had 
 shown an increasing interest in the 
 discussion : which now attained a very 
 high pitch. 
 
 " You are the two men I want," he 
 said, " the two men I have been look- 
 ing for, and searching after ! Where are 
 that old man and that child you speak 
 of?" 
 
 " Sir I " said Short, hesitating, and 
 looking towards his friend. 
 
 " The old man and his grandchild 
 who travelled with you where are 
 they ? It will be worth your while to 
 
 speak out, I assure you ; much better 
 worth your while than you believe. 
 They left you, you say, at those 
 races, as I understand. They have 
 been traced to that place, and there 
 lost sight of. Have you no clue, can 
 you suggest no clue, to their reco- 
 very ? " 
 
 " Did I always say, Thomas," cried 
 Short, turning with a look of amaze- 
 ment to his friend "that there was 
 sure to be an inquiry after them two 
 travellers ? " 
 
 " You said ! " returned Mr. Codlin. 
 " Did I always say that that 'ere 
 blessed child was the most interesting 
 I ever see ? Did I always say I loved 
 her, and doated on her ? Pretty creetur, 
 I think I hear her now. ' Codlin 's my 
 friend,' she says, with a tear of grati- 
 tude a trickling down her little eye ; 
 1 Codlin 's my friend,' she says ' not 
 Short. Short 's very well,' she says ; 
 'I 've no quarrel with Short ; he 
 means kind, I dare say ; but Codlin,' 
 she says, 'has the feelings for my 
 money, though he mayn't look it.' " 
 
 Repeating these words with great 
 emotion, Mr. Codlin rubbed the bridge 
 of his nose with his coat-sleeve, and 
 shaking his head mournfully from side 
 to side, left the single gentleman to 
 infer that, from the moment when he 
 lost sight of his dear young charge, 
 his peace of mind and happiness had 
 fled. 
 
 " Good Heaven ! " said the single gen- 
 tleman, pacing up and down the room, 
 " have I found these men at last, only 
 to discover that they can give me no 
 information or assistance ! It would 
 have been better to have lived on, in 
 hope, from cuy to day, and never to 
 have lighted on them, than to have 
 my expectations scattered thus." 
 
 " Stay a minute," said Short. " A 
 man of the name of Jerry you know 
 Jerry, Thomas ? " 
 
 Oh, don't talk to me of Jerrys," 
 replied Mr. Codlin. " How can I care 
 a pinch of snuff for Jerrys, when I 
 think of that 'ere darling child 1 ' Cod- 
 lin 's my friend,' she says, ' dear, good, 
 kind Codlin, as is always a devising 
 pleasures for me ! I don't object to
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 171 
 
 Short,' she says, ' but I cotton to 
 Codlin.' Once," said that gentleman 
 reflectively, " she called me Father 
 Codlin. I thought I should have bust 1" 
 
 " A man of the name of Jerry, sir," 
 said Short, turning from his selfish 
 colleague to their new acquaintance, 
 " wot keeps a company of dancing- 
 dogs, told me, in a accidental sort of a 
 way, that he had seen the old gentle- 
 man in connexion with a travelling 
 wax-work, unbeknown to him. As 
 they 'd given us the slip, and nothing 
 had come of it, and this was down hi 
 the country that he'd been seen, I 
 took no measures about it, and asked 
 no questions But I can, if you like." 
 
 " Is this man in town I " said the 
 impatient single gentleman. " Speak 
 faster." 
 
 " No he isn't, but he will be to- 
 morrow, for he lodges in our house," 
 replied Mr. Short rapidly. 
 
 " Then bring him here," said the 
 single gentleman. " Here 'sa sovereign 
 a-piece. If I can find these people 
 through your means, it is but a pre- 
 lude to twenty more. Return to me 
 to-morrow, and keep your own counsel 
 on this subject though I need 
 hardly tell you that, for you '1L do so 
 for your own sakes. Now, give me 
 your address, and leave me." 
 
 The address was given, the two men 
 departed, the crowd went with them, 
 and the single gentleman for two 
 mortal hours walked in uncommon 
 agitation up and down his room, over 
 the wondering heads of Mr. Swiveller 
 and Miss Sally Brass. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 KIT for it happens at this junc- 
 ture, not only that we have breathing 
 time to follow his fortunes, but that the 
 necessities of these adventures so 
 adapt themselves to our ease and 
 inclination as to call upon us impera- 
 tively to pursue the track we most 
 desire to take Kit, while the matters 
 treated of in the last fifteen chapters 
 were yet in progress, was, as the 
 reader may suppose, gradually famili- 
 arising himself more and more, with 
 Mr. and Mrs. Garland, Mr. Abel, the 
 pony, and Barbara, and gradually 
 coming to consider them one and all 
 as his particular private friends, and 
 Abel Cottage Finchley as his own 
 proper home. 
 
 Stay the words are written, and 
 may go, but if they convey any notion 
 that Kit, in the plentiful board and 
 comfortable lodging of his new abode, 
 began to think slightingly of the poor 
 fare and furniture of his old dwelling, 
 they do their office badly and commit 
 injustice. Who so mindful of those 
 
 he left at home albeit they were but 
 a mother and two young babies as 
 Kit? What boastful father in the 
 fulness of his heart ever related such 
 wonders of his infant prodigy, as Kit 
 never wearied of telling Barbara in 
 the evening time, concerning little 
 Jacob ? Was there ever such a mo- 
 ther as Kit's mother, on her son's 
 showing ; or was there ever such com- 
 . fort in poverty as in the poverty of 
 Kit's family, if any correct judgment 
 might be arrived at, from his own 
 glowing account ! 
 
 And let me linger in this place, for 
 an instant, to remark that if ever 
 household affections and loves are 
 graceful things, they are graceful in 
 the poor. The ties that bind the 
 wealthy and the proud to home may 
 be forged on earth, but those which 
 link the poor man to his humble 
 hearth are of the truer metal and bear 
 the stamp of Heaven. The man of 
 high descent may love the halls and 
 lands of his inheritance as a part of
 
 172 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 himself : as trophies of his birth and | new one was very unlike it, and yet 
 power ; his associations with them are j he was constantly looking back with 
 
 associations of pride and wealth and 
 triumph ; the poor man's attachment 
 to the tenement he holds, which 
 strangers have held before, and may 
 to-morrow occupy again, has a worthier 
 root, struck deep into a purer soil. 
 His household gods are of flesh and 
 blood, with no alloy of silver, gold, or 
 precious stone ; he has no property 
 but in the affections of his own heart ; 
 and when they endear bare floors and 
 walls, despite of rags and toil and 
 
 grateful satisfaction and affectionate 
 anxiety, and often indited square- 
 folded letters to his mother, inclosing 
 a shilling or eighteen-pence or such 
 other small remittance, which Mr. 
 Abel's liberality enabled him to make. 
 Sometimes, being in the neighbour- 
 hood, he had leisure to call upon her, 
 and then, great was the joy and pride 
 of Kit's mother, and extremely noisy 
 the satisfaction of little Jacob and the 
 baby, and cordial the congratulations 
 
 scanty fare, that man has his love of j of the whole court, who listened with 
 home from God, and his rude hut ! admiring ears to the accounts of Abel 
 becomes a solemn place. Cottege, and could never be told too 
 
 much of its wonders and magnificence. 
 Although Kit was in the very highest 
 
 Oh! if those who rule the destinies 
 of nations would but remember this 
 
 if they would but think how hard it is j favour with the old lady and gentle- 
 for the very poor to have engendered man, and Mr. Abel, and Barbara, it is 
 in their hearts, that love of home from certain that no member of the family 
 which all domestic virtues spring, evinced such a remarkable partiality 
 when they live in dense and squalid j for him as the self-willed pony, who, 
 masses where social decency is lost, or from being the most obstinate and 
 rather never found, if they would j opinionated pony on the face of the 
 
 but turn aside from the wide thorough- 
 fares and great houses, and strive to 
 improve the wretched dwellings in 
 bye-ways where only Poverty may 
 walk, many low roofs would point 
 more truly to the sky, than the loftiest 
 steeple that now rears proudly up 
 from the midst of guilt, and crime, 
 and horrible disease, to mock them by 
 its contrast. In hollow voices from 
 Workhouse, Hospital, and Jail, this 
 truth is preached from day to day, 
 and has been proclaimed for years. It 
 is no light matter no outcry from the 
 working vulgar no mere question of 
 the people's health and comforts that 
 may be whistled down on Wednesday 
 nights. In love of home, the love of 
 country has its rise ; and who are the 
 truer patriots or the better in time of 
 need those who venerate the land, 
 owning its wood, and stream, and 
 earth, and all that they produce ? or 
 those who love their country, boasting 
 not a foot of ground in all its wide 
 domain ! 
 
 Kit knew nothing about such ques- 
 tions, but he knew that his old home 
 was a very poor place, and that his 
 
 earth, was, in his hands, the meekest 
 and most tractable of animals. It is 
 true that in exact proportion as he 
 became manageable by Kit he became 
 utterly ungovernable by anybody else, 
 (as if he had determined to keep him 
 in the family at all risks and hazards), 
 and that, even under the guidance of 
 his favourite, he would sometimes 
 perform a great variety of strange 
 freaks and capers, to the extreme dis- 
 composure of the old lady's nerves ; 
 but as Kit always represented that 
 this was only his fun, or a way he 
 had of showing his attachment to his 
 employers, Mrs. Garland gradually 
 suffered herself to be persuaded into 
 the belief, in which she at last became 
 so strongly confirmed, that if, in one of 
 these ebullitions, he had overturned 
 the chaise, she would have been quite 
 satisfied that he did it with the very 
 best intentions. 
 
 Besides becoming in a short time a 
 perfect marvel in all stable matters, 
 Kit soon made himself a very tolerable 
 gardener, a handy fellow within doors, 
 and an indispensable attendant on 
 Mr. Abel, who every day gave him
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 173 
 
 some new proof of his confidence 
 and approbation. Mr. Witherden the 
 notary, too, regarded him with a 
 friendly eye ; and even Mr. Chuckster 
 would sometimes condescend to give 
 him a slight nod, or to honour him 
 with that peculiar form of recognition 
 which is called " taking a sight," or to 
 favour him with some other salute 
 combining pleasantry with patronage. 
 
 One morning Kit drove Mr. Abel 
 to the Notary's office, as he sometimes 
 did, and having set him down at the 
 house, was about to drive off to a 
 livery stable hard by, when this same 
 Mr. Chuckster emerged from the 
 office-door, and cried " Woa-a-a-a-a-a!" 
 dwelling upon the note a long time, 
 for the purpose of striking terror into 
 the pony's heart, and asserting the 
 supremacy of man over the inferior 
 annuals. 
 
 "Pull up, Snobby," cried Mr. 
 Chuckster, addressing himself to Kit. 
 " You 're wanted inside here." 
 
 " Has Mr. Abel forgotten anything, 
 I wonder ? " said Kit as he dismounted. 
 
 "Ask no questions, Snobby," re- 
 turned Mr. Chuckster, "but go and 
 see. Woa-a-a then, will you 1 If that 
 pony was mine, 7'd break him." 
 
 " You must be very gentle with 
 him, if you please," said Kit, " or 
 you'll find him troublesome. You'd 
 better not keep on pulling his ears, 
 please. 1 know he won't like it." 
 
 To this remonstrance Mr. Chuckster 
 deigned no other answer, than ad- 
 dressing Kit with a lofty and distant 
 air as " young feller," and requesting 
 him to cut, and come again with all 
 speed. The " young feller " complying, 
 Mr. Chuckster put his hands in his 
 pockets, and tried to look as if he 
 were not minding the pony, but 
 happened to be lounging there by 
 accident. 
 
 Kit scraped his shoes very carefully, 
 (for he had not yet lost his reverence 
 for the bundles of papers and the tin 
 boxes,) and tapped at the office-door, 
 which was quickly opened by the 
 Notary himself. 
 
 " Oh ! come in, Christopher," said 
 Mr. Witherden. 
 
 " Is that the lad I " asked an elderly 
 gentleman, but of a stout, bluff figure 
 who was in the room. * 
 
 " That 's the lad," said Mr. Wither- 
 den. " He fell in with my client, Mr. 
 Garland, sir, at this very door. I have 
 reason to think he is a good lad, sir, 
 and that you may believe what he 
 says. Let me introduce Mr. Abel 
 Garland, sir his young master ; my 
 articled pupil, sir, and most particular 
 friend : my most particular friend, 
 sir," repeated the Notary, drawing out 
 his silk handkerchief and flourishing it 
 about his face. 
 
 " Your servant, sir," said the 
 stranger gentleman. 
 
 " Yours, sir, I 'm sure," replied Mr. 
 Abel mildly. " You were wishing to 
 speak to Christopher, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes, I was. Have I your per- 
 mission 2 " 
 
 " By all means." 
 
 " My business is no secret ; or I 
 should rather say it need be no secret 
 here," said the stranger, observing that 
 Mr. Abel and the Notary were pre- 
 paring to retire. "It relates to a 
 dealer in curiosities with whom he 
 lived, and in whom I am earnestly and 
 warmly interested. I have been a 
 stranger to this country, gentlemen, 
 for very many years, and if I am defi- 
 cient in form and ceremony, I hope 
 you will forgive me." 
 
 " No forgiveness is necessary, sir ; 
 none whatever," replied the Notary. 
 And so said Mr. Abel. 
 
 " I have been making inquiries in 
 the neighbourhood in which his old 
 master lived," said the stranger, "and 
 I learn that he was served by this lad. 
 I have found out his mother's house, 
 and have been directed by her to this 
 place as the nearest in which I should 
 be likely to find him. That 's the 
 cause of my presenting myself here 
 this morning." 
 
 " I am very glad of any cause, sir," 
 said the Notary, " which procures me 
 the honour of this visit." 
 
 " Sir," retorted the stranger, " you 
 speak like a mere man of the world, 
 and I think you something better. 
 Therefore, pray do not sink your real
 
 174 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 character in paying unmeaning com- 
 pliments to me. 
 
 " Hem ! *' coughed the Notary. 
 " You 're a plain speaker, sir." 
 
 " And a plain dealer," returned the 
 stranger. " It may be my long ab- 
 sence and inexperience that lead me 
 to the conclusion; but if plain speakers 
 are scarce in this part of the world, I 
 fancy plain dealers are still scarcer. If 
 my speaking should offend you, sir, my 
 dealing, I hope, will make amends." 
 
 Mr. Witherden seemed a little dis- 
 concerted by the elderly gentleman's 
 mode of conducting the dialogue ; and 
 as for Kit, he looked at him in open- 
 mouthed astonishment : wondering 
 what kind of language he would ad- 
 dress to him, if he talked in that free 
 and easy way to a Notary. It was 
 with no harshness, however, though 
 with something of constitutional irri- 
 tability and haste, that he turned to 
 Kit -and said : 
 
 " If you think, my lad, that I am 
 pursuing these inquiries with any 
 other view than that of serving and 
 reclaiming those I am in search of, 
 you do me a very great wrong, and 
 deceive yourself. Don't be deceived, 
 I beg of you, but rely upon my assu- 
 rance. The fact is, gentlemen," he 
 added, turning again to the Notary 
 and his pupil, "that I am in a very 
 painful and wholly unexpected posi- 
 tion. I came to this city with a dar- 
 ling object at my heart, expecting to 
 find no obstacle or difficulty in the 
 way of its attainment. I find myself 
 suddenly checked and stopped short, in 
 the execution of my design, by a 
 mystery which I cannot penetrate. 
 Every effort I have made to penetrate 
 it, has only served to render it darker 
 and more obscure ; and I am afraid 
 to stir openly in the matter, lest those 
 whom I anxiously pursue, should fly 
 still farther from me. I assure you 
 that if you could give me any assis- 
 tance, you would not be sorry to do 
 so, if you knew how greatly I stand in 
 need of it, and what a load it would 
 relieve me from." 
 
 There was a simplicity in this con- 
 fidence which occasioned it to find a 
 
 quick response in the breast of the 
 good-natured Notary, who replied, in 
 the same spirit, that the stranger had 
 not mistaken his desire, and that if he 
 could be of service to him, he would, 
 most readily. 
 
 Kit was then put under examina- 
 tion and closely questioned by the 
 unknown gentleman touching his old 
 master and the child, their lonely way 
 of life, their retired habits, and strict 
 seclusion. The nightly absence of the 
 old man, the solitary existence of the 
 child at those times, his illness and 
 recovery, Quilp's possession of the 
 house, and their sudden disappearance, 
 were all the subjects of much question- 
 ing and answer. Finally, Kit informed 
 the gentleman that the premises were 
 now to let, and that a board upon the 
 door referred all inquirers to Mr. 
 Sampson Brass, Solicitor, of Bevis 
 Marks, from whom he might perhaps 
 learn some further particulars. 
 
 " Not by inquiry," said the gentle- 
 man shaking his head. " I live 
 there." 
 
 " Live at Brass's the attorney's ! " 
 cried Mr. Witherden in some surprise : 
 having professional knowledge of the 
 gentleman in question. 
 
 " Aye " was the reply. " I entered 
 on his lodgings t' other day, chiefly 
 because I had seen this very board. 
 It matters little to me where I live, 
 and I had a desperate hope that some 
 intelligence might be cast in my way 
 there, which would not reach me else- 
 where. Yes, I live at Brass's more 
 shame for me, I suppose ? " 
 
 " That 's a mere matter of opinion," 
 said the Notary, shrugging his shoul- 
 ders. " He is looked upon as rather a 
 doubtful character." 
 
 " Doubtful ? " echoed the other. 
 " I am glad to hear there 's any doubt 
 about it. I supposed that had been 
 thoroughly settled, long ago. But will 
 you let me speak a word or two with 
 you in private 2 " 
 
 Mr. Witherden consenting, they 
 walked into that gentleman's private 
 closet, and remained there, in close 
 conversation, for some quarter of an 
 hour, when they returned into the
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 175 
 
 outer office. The stranger had left 
 his hat in Mr. Witherden's room, and 
 seemed to have established himself in 
 this short interval on quite a friendly 
 footing. 
 
 "I'll not detain you any longer 
 now," he said, putting a crown into 
 Kit's hand, and looking towards the 
 Notary. rt You shall hear from me 
 again. Not a word of this, you know, 
 except to yoor master and mistress." 
 
 " Mother, sir, would be glad to 
 know " said Kit, faltering. 
 
 " Glad to know what ? " 
 
 " Anything so that it was no harm 
 about Miss Nell." 
 
 " Would she ] Well then, you may 
 tell her if she can keep a secret. But 
 mind, not a word of this to anybody 
 else. Don't forget that. Be particular." 
 
 " I '11 take care, sir," said Kit. 
 " Thankee, sir, and good morning." 
 
 Now, it happened that the gentle- 
 man, in his anxiety to impress upon 
 Kit that he was not to tell anybody 
 what had passed between them, fol- 
 lowed him out to the door to repeat 
 his caution, and it further happened 
 that at that moment the eyes of Mr. 
 Richard Swiveller were turned in that 
 direction, and beheld his mysterious 
 friend and Kit together. 
 
 It was quite an accident, and the 
 way in which it came about was this. 
 Mr. Chuckster, being a gentleman of a 
 cultivated taste and refined spirit, was 
 one of that Lodge of Glorions Apollos 
 whereof Mr. Swiveller was Perpetual 
 Grand. Mr. Swiveller, passing through 
 the street in the execution of some 
 Brazen errand, and beholding one of 
 his Glorious Brotherhood intently 
 gazing on a pony, crossed over to give 
 him that fraternal greeting with which 
 Perpetual Grands are, by the very 
 constitution of their office, bound to 
 cheer and encourage their disciples. 
 He had scarcely bestowed upon him his 
 blessing, and followed it with a general 
 remark touching the present state and 
 prospects of the weather, when, lifting 
 up his eyes, he beheld the single 
 gentleman of Bevis Marks in earnest 
 conversation with Christopher Nubbles. 
 
 " Hallo ! " said Dick, who is that ! " 
 
 " He called to see my Governor 
 this morning," replied Mr. Chuckster ; 
 " beyond that, I don't know him from 
 Adam." 
 
 " At least you know his name I " 
 said Dick. 
 
 To which Mr. Chuckster replied, 
 with an elevation of speech becoming 
 a Glorions Apollo, that he was " ever- 
 lastingly blessed " if he did. 
 
 " All I know, my dear feller ,'' said 
 Mr. Chuckster, running his fingers 
 through his hair, " is, that he is the 
 cause of my having stood here twenty 
 minutes, for which I hate him with a 
 mortal and undying hatred, and would 
 pursue him to the confines of eternity 
 if I could afford the tune." 
 
 While they were thus discoursing, 
 the subject of their conversation (who 
 had not appeared to recognise Mr. 
 Richard Swiveller) re-entered the 
 house, and Kit came down the steps 
 and joined them ; to whom Mr. Swivel- 
 ler again propounded his inquiry with 
 no better success. 
 
 " He is a very nice gentleman, sir," 
 said Kit, " and that 's all / know about 
 him." 
 
 Mr. Chuckster waxed wroth at this 
 answer, and without applying the re- 
 mark to any particular case, men- 
 tioned, as a general truth, that it was 
 expedient to break the heads of Snobs, 
 and to tweak their noses. Without 
 expressing his concurrence in this 
 sentiment, Mr. S'wiveller after a few 
 moments of abstraction inquired which 
 way Kit was driving, and, being in- 
 formed, declared it was his way, and 
 that he would trespass on him . for a 
 lift Kit would gladly have declined 
 the proffered honour, but as Mr. 
 Swiveller was already established in 
 the seat beside him, he had no means 
 of doing so, otherwise than by a forcible 
 ejectment, and therefore drove briskly 
 off so briskly indeed, as to cut short 
 the leave-taking between Mr. Chuck- 
 ster and his Grand Master, and to 
 occasion the former gentleman some 
 inconvenience from having his corns 
 squeezed by the impatient pony. 
 
 As Whisker was tired of standing, 
 and Mr. Swiveller was kind enough
 
 176 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 to stimulate him by shrill whistles, 
 and various sporting cries, they rattled 
 off at too sharp a pace to admit of 
 much conversation : especially as the 
 pony, incensed by Mr. Swiveller's 
 admonitions, took a particular fancy 
 for the lamp-posts and cart-wheels, 
 and evinced a strong desire to run on 
 the pavement and rasp himself against 
 the brick walls. It was not, there- 
 fore, until they had arrived at the 
 stable, and the chaise had been extri- 
 cated from a very small doorway, 
 into which the pony dragged it under 
 the impi'ession that he could take it 
 along with him into his usual stall, 
 that Mr. Swiveller found time to 
 talk. 
 
 " It 's hard work," said Richard. 
 " What do you say to some beer ? " 
 
 Kit at first declined, but presently 
 consented, and they adjourned to the 
 neighbouring bar together. 
 
 " We'll drink our friend what's- 
 his-name," said Dick, holding up the 
 bright frothy pot ; " that was talking 
 to you this morning, you know 
 / know him a good fellow, but 
 eccentric very here 's what 's-his- 
 name." 
 
 Kit pledged him. 
 
 " He lives in my house," said Dick ; 
 " at least in the house occupied by 
 the firm in which I 'm a sort of a 
 of a managing partner a difficult 
 fellow to get anything out of, but we 
 like him we like him." 
 
 " I must be going sir, if you please," 
 said Kit, moving away. 
 
 " Don't be in a hurry, Christopher," 
 replied his patron, " we '11 drink your 
 mother." 
 
 " Thank you sir." 
 
 " An excellent woman that mother 
 of yours, Christopher," said Mr. Swi- 
 veller. " Who ran to catch me when 
 I fell, and kissed the place to make 
 it well ? My mother. A charming 
 woman. He 's a liberal sort of fellow. 
 We must get him to do something for 
 your mother. Does he know her, 
 Christopher ? " 
 
 Kit shook his head, and glancing 
 slyly at his questioner, thanked him, 
 and made off before he could say 
 another word. 
 
 " Humph !" said Mr. Swiveller 
 pondering, " this is queer. Nothing 
 but mysteries in connexion with 
 Brass's house. I '11 keep my own coun- 
 sel, however. Everybody and anybody 
 has been in my confidence as yet, but 
 now I think I '11 set up. in business for 
 myself. Queer very queer ! " 
 
 After pondering deeply and with a 
 face of exceeding wisdom for some 
 time, Mr. Swiveller drank some more 
 of the beer, and summoning a small 
 boy who had been watching his pro- 
 ceedings, poured forth the few remain- 
 ing drops as a libation on the gravel, 
 and bade him carry the empty vessel 
 to the bar with his compliments, and 
 above all things to lead a sober and 
 temperate life, and abstain from all 
 intoxicating and exciting liquors. 
 Having given him this piece of moral 
 advice for his trouble (which, as he 
 wisely observed, was far better than 
 half-pence) the Perpetual Grand Mas- 
 ter of the Glorious Apollos thrust his 
 hands into his pockets and sauntered 
 away : still pondering as he went.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 177 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 ALL that day, though he waited for 
 Mr. Abel until evening, Kit kept clear 
 of his mother's house, determined not 
 to anticipate the pleasures of the mor- 
 row, but to let them come in their full 
 rush of delight ; for to-morrow was the 
 great and long looked-for epoch in his 
 life to-morrow was the end of his first 
 quarter the day of receiving, for the 
 iirst time, one fourth part of his annual 
 income of Six Pounds in one vast sum 
 of Thirty Shillings to-morrow was to 
 be a half-holiday devoted to a whirl of 
 entertainments, and little Jacob was 
 to know what oysters meant, and to 
 bcc a play. 
 
 All manner ,pf incidents combined 
 in favour of the occasion : not only 
 had Mr. and Mrs. Garland forewarned 
 him that they intended to make no 
 deduction for his outfit from the great 
 amount, but to pay it him unbroken in 
 all its gigantic grandeur ; not only 
 had the unknown gentleman increased 
 the stock by the sum of five shillings, 
 which was a perfect god-send and in 
 itself a fortune ; not only had these 
 things come to pass which nobody 
 could have calculated upon, or in their 
 wildest dreams have hoped ; but it 
 was Barbara's quarter too Barbara's 
 quarter, that very day and Barbara 
 had a half-holiday as well as Kit, and 
 Barbara's mother was going to make 
 one of the party, and to take tea 
 with Kit's mother, and cultivate her 
 acquaintance. 
 
 To be sure Kit looked out of his 
 window very early that morning to see 
 which way the clouds were flying, and 
 to be sure Barbara would have been 
 at hers too, if she had not sat up so 
 late over-night, starching and ironing 
 small pieces of muslin, and crimping 
 them into frills, and sewing them on 
 to other pieces to form magnificent 
 wholes for next day's wear. But they 
 were both up very early for all that, 
 and had small appetites for breakfast 
 and less for dinner, and were in a 
 state of great excitement when Bar- 
 No. 75. 
 
 bara's mother came in, with astonish- 
 ing accounts of the fineness of the 
 weather out of doors (but with a very 
 large umbrella notwithstanding, for 
 people like Barbara's mother seldom 
 make holiday without one), and when 
 the bell rung for them to go up stairs 
 and receive their quarter's money in 
 gold and silver. 
 
 Well, wasn't Mr. Garland kind when 
 he said " Christopher, here 's your 
 money, and you have earned it well ;" 
 and wasn't Mrs. Garland kind when she 
 said " Barbara here 's yours, and I 'm 
 much pleased with you ;" and didn't 
 Kit sign his name bold to his receipt, 
 and didn't Barbara sign her name all 
 a trembling to hers ; and wasn't it 
 beautiful to see how Mrs. Garland 
 poured out Barbara's mother a glass 
 of wine ; and didn't Barbara's mother 
 speak up when she said " Here 's 
 blessing you, ma'am, as a good lady, 
 and you, sir, as a good gentleman, and 
 Barbara my love to you, and here : s 
 towards you, Mr. Christopher ;" and 
 wasn't she as long drinking it as if it 
 had been a tumblerfull ; and didn't 
 she look genteel, standing there with 
 her gloves on ; and wasn't there plenty 
 of laughing and talking among them 
 as they reviewed all these things upon 
 the top of the coach ; and didn't 
 they pity the people who hadn't got a 
 holiday ! 
 
 But Kit's mother, again wouldn't 
 anybody have supposed she had come 
 of a good stock and been a lady all 
 her life ! There she was, quite ready 
 to receive them, with a display of tea- 
 things that might have warmed the 
 heart of a china-shop ; and little Jacob 
 and the baby in such a state of per- 
 fection that their clothes looked as 
 good as new, though Heaven knows 
 they were old enough ! Didn't she say 
 before they had sat down five minutes 
 that Barbara's mother was exactly the 
 sort of lady she expected, and didn't 
 Barbara's mother say that Kit's mo- 
 ther was the very picture of what site
 
 178 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 had expected, and didn't Kit's mother 
 compliment Barbara's mother on Bar- 
 bai-a, and didn't Barbara's mother 
 compliment Kit's mother on Kit, and 
 wasn't Barbara herself quite fascinated 
 with little Jacob, and did ever a child 
 show off when he was wanted, as that 
 child did, or make such friends as he 
 made ! 
 
 " And we are both widows too ! " 
 said Barbara's mother. " We must 
 have been made to know each other." 
 
 I haven't a doubt about it," re- 
 turned Mrs. Nubbles. " And what a 
 pity it is, we didn't know each other 
 sooner." 
 
 " But then, you know, it 's such a 
 pleasure," said Barbara's mother, " to 
 have it brought about by one 's son and 
 daughter, that it 's fully made up for. 
 Now, an't it ? " 
 
 To this, Kit's mother yielded her 
 full assent, and tracing things back 
 from effects to causes, they naturally 
 reverted to their deceased husbands, 
 respecting whose lives, deaths, and 
 burials, they compared notes, and dis- 
 covered sundry circumstances that tal- 
 lied with wonderful exactness ; such 
 as Barbara's father having been ex- 
 actly four years and ten months older 
 than Kit's father, and one of them 
 having died on a Wednesday and the 
 other on a Thursday, and both of them 
 having been of a very fine make and 
 remarkably good-looking, with other 
 extraordinary coincidences. These re- 
 collections being of a kind calculated 
 to cast a shadow on the brightness of 
 the holiday, Kit diverted the conversa- 
 tion to general topics, and they were 
 soon in great force again, and as merry 
 as before. Among other things, Kit 
 told them about his old place, and the 
 extraordinary beauty of Nell (of whom 
 he had talked to Barbara a thousand 
 times already) ; but the last-named 
 circumstance failed to interest his 
 hearers to anything like the extent he 
 had supposed, and even his mother 
 said (looking accidentally at Barbara 
 at the same time) that there was no 
 doubt Miss Nell was very pretty, but 
 she was but a child after all, and there 
 were many young women quite as 
 
 :>retty as she ; and Barbara mildly 
 observed that she should think so, and 
 ;hat she never could help believing 
 Mr. Christopher must be under a mis- 
 take which Kit wondered at very 
 much, not being able to conceive what 
 reason she had for doubting him. Bar- 
 bara's mother too, observed that it 
 was very common for young folks to 
 change at about fourteen or fifteen, and 
 whereas they had been very pretty be- 
 fore, to grow up quite plain ; which 
 truth she illustrated by many forcible 
 examples, especially one of a young 
 man, who, being a builder with great 
 prospects, had been particular in his 
 attentions to Barbara, but whom Bar- 
 bara would have nothing to say to 
 which (though everything happened 
 for the best) she almost thought was 
 a pity. Kit said he thought so too, and 
 so he did honestly, and he wondered 
 what made Barbara so silent all at 
 once, and why his mother looked at 
 him as if he shouldn't have said it. 
 
 However, it was high time now to be 
 thinking of the play ; for which, great 
 preparation was required, in the way 
 of shawls and bonnets, not to mention 
 one handkerchief full of oranges and 
 another of apples, which took some 
 time tying up, in consequence of the 
 fruit having a tendency to roll out at 
 the corners. At length, everything was 
 ready, and they went off very fast ; 
 Kit's mother carrying the baby, who 
 was dreadfully wide awake, and Kit 
 holding little Jacob in one hand, and 
 escorting Barbara with the other a 
 state of things which occasioned the 
 two mothers, who walked behind, to 
 declare that they looked quite family 
 folks, and caused Barbara to blush and 
 say, " Now don't, mother !" But Kit 
 said she had no call to mind what they 
 said ; and indeed she need not have 
 had, if she had known how very far 
 from Kit's thoughts any love-making 
 was. Poor Barbara ! 
 
 At last they got to the theatre, 
 which was Astley's ; and in some two 
 nrnutes after they had reached the 
 yet unopened door, little Jacob was 
 squeezed flat, and the baby had re- 
 ceived divers concussions, and Bar-
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 179 
 
 Lara's mother's umbrella had been 
 carried several yards off and passed 
 back to her over the shoulders of the 
 people, and Kit had hit a man on the 
 head with the handkerchief of apples 
 for " scrowdging " his parent with un- 
 necessary violence, and there was a 
 great uproar. But, when they were 
 once past the pay-place and tearing 
 away for very life with their checks in 
 their hands, and, above all, when they 
 were fairly in the theatre, and seated 
 in such places that they couldn't have 
 had better if they had picked them 
 out, and taken them beforehand, all 
 this was looked upon as quite a capital 
 joke, and an essential part of the 
 entertainment. 
 
 Dear, dear, what a place it looked, 
 that Astley's ! with all the paint, gild- 
 ing, and looking-glass ; the vague smell 
 of horses suggestive of coming won- 
 ders ; the curtain that hid such gorgeous 
 mysteries ; the clean white sawdust 
 down in the circus ; the company com- 
 ing in and taking their places ; the 
 fiddlers looking carelessly up at them 
 while they tuned their instruments, as 
 if they didn't want the play to begin, 
 and knew it all beforehand ! What a 
 glow was that, which burst upon them 
 all, when that long, clear, brilliant row 
 of lights came slowly up ; and what 
 the feverish excitement when the little 
 bell rang and the music began in good 
 earnest, with strong parts for the 
 drums, and sweet effects for the tri- 
 angles ! Well might Barbara's mother 
 say to Kit's mother that the gallery 
 was the place to see from, and wonder 
 it wasn't much dearer than the 
 boxes ; well might Barbara feel doubt- 
 ful whether to laugh or cry, in her 
 flutter of delight. 
 
 Then the play itself ! the horses 
 which little Jacob believed from the 
 first to be alive, and the ladies and 
 gentlemen of whose reality he could 
 be by no means persuaded, having 
 never seen or heard anything at all 
 like them the firing, which made 
 Barbara wink the forlorn lady, who 
 made her cry the tyrant, who made 
 her tremble ti-e man who sang the 
 song with the lady's-maid and danced 
 
 the chorus, who made her laugh the 
 pony who reared up on his hind legs 
 when he saw the murderer, and 
 wouldn't hear of walking on all fours 
 again until he was taken into custody 
 the clown who ventured on such 
 familiarities with the military man in 
 boots the lady who jumped over the 
 nine-and-twenty ribbons and came 
 down safe upon the horse's back 
 everything was delightful, splendid, 
 and surprising ! Little Jacob applauded 
 till his hands were sore ; Kit cried 
 "an-kor"at the end of everything, 
 the three-act piece included ; and Bar- 
 bara's mother beat her umbrella on 
 the floor, in her ecstacies, until it was 
 nearly worn down to the gingham. 
 
 In the midst of all these fascinations, 
 Barbara's thoughts seemed to have 
 been still running on what Kit had 
 said at tea-time ; for, when they were 
 coming out of the play, she asked hun, 
 with an hysterical simper, if Miss Nell 
 was as handsome as the lady who 
 jumped over the ribbons. 
 
 " As handsome as her?" said Kit 
 " Double as handsome." 
 
 " Oh Christopher ! I 'm sure she 
 was the beautifullest creature ever 
 was," said Barbara. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " returned Kit. " She 
 was well enough, I don't deny that ; 
 but think how she was dressed and 
 painted, and what a difference that 
 made. Why you are a good deal 
 better-looking than her, Barbara." 
 
 " Oh Christopher ! " said Barbara, 
 looking down. 
 
 " You are, any day," said Kit, 
 " and so 's your mother." 
 
 Poor Barbara ! 
 
 What was all this though even all 
 this to the extraordinary dissipation 
 that ensued, when Kit, walking into an 
 oyster-shop as bold as if he lived there, 
 and not so much as looking at the 
 counter or the man behind it, led his 
 party into a box a private box, fitted 
 up with red curtains, white table-cloth, 
 and cruet-stand complete and ordered 
 a fierce gentleman with whiskers, who 
 acted as waiter and called him, him 
 Christopher Nubbles, "sir," to bring 
 three dozen of his largest-sized oysters,
 
 180 
 
 TRE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 and to look sharp about it ! Yes, Kit 
 told this gentleman to look sharp, and 
 he not only said he would look sharp, 
 but he actually did, and presently came 
 running back with the newest loaves, 
 and the freshest butter, and the largest 
 oysters, ever seen. Then said Kit to 
 this gentleman, "a pot of beer" just 
 so and the gentleman, instead of 
 replying, "Sir, did you address that 
 language to me ? " only said, " Pot o' 
 beer, sir ? yes, sir," and went off and 
 fetched it, and put it on the table in a 
 small decanter-stand, like those which 
 blind-men's dogs carry about the streets 
 in their mouths, to catch the halfpence 
 in ; and both Kit's mother and Bar- 
 bara's mother declared as he turned 
 away that he was one of the slimmest 
 and gracefullest young men she had 
 ever looked upon. 
 
 Then they fell to work upon the 
 supper in earnest ; and there was Bar- 
 bara, that foolish Barbara, declaring 
 that she couldn't eat more than two, 
 and wanting more pressing than you 
 would believe before she would eat 
 four : though her mother and Kit's 
 mother made up for it pretty well, and 
 ate and laughed and enjoyed them- 
 selves so thoroughly that it did Kit 
 good to see them, and made him laugh 
 and eat likewise from strong sympathy. 
 But the greatest miracle of the night 
 was little Jacob, who ate oysters as if 
 lie had been born and bred to the 
 business sprinkled the pepper and the 
 
 vinegar with a discretion beyond his 
 years and afterwards built a grotto 
 on the table with the shells. There was 
 the baby too, who had never closed an 
 eye all night, but had sat as good as 
 gold, trying to force a large orange 
 into his mouth, and gazing intently at 
 the lights in the chandelier there he 
 was, sitting up in his mother's lap, 
 j staring at the gas without winking, and 
 making indentations in his soft visage 
 with an oyster-shell, to that degree 
 that a heart of iron must have loved 
 him ! In short, there never was a 
 more successful supper ; and when Kit 
 ordered in a glass of something hot to 
 finish with, and proposed Mr. and Mrs. 
 Garland before sending it round, there 
 were not six happier people in all the 
 woi-ld. 
 
 But all happiness has an end hence 
 the chief pleasure of its next beginning 
 and as it was now growing late, they 
 agreed it was time to turn their faces 
 homewards. So, after going a little 
 out of their way to see Barbara and 
 Barbara's mother safe to a friend's 
 house where they were to pass the 
 night, Kit and his mother left them at 
 the door, with an early appointment 
 for returning to Finchley next morn- 
 ing, and a great many plans for next 
 quarter's enjoyment. Then, Kit took 
 little Jacob on his back, and giving his 
 arm to his mother, and a kiss' to the 
 baby, they all trudged merrily homo 
 together.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 18J 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 FCLL of that vague kind of peni- 
 tence which holidays awaken next 
 morning, Kit turned out at sunrise, 
 and, with his faith in last night's en- 
 joyments a little shaken by cool day- 
 light and the return to every-day 
 duties and occupations, went to meet 
 Barbara and her mother at the ap- 
 pointed place. And being careful not 
 to awaken any of the little household, 
 who were yet resting from their un- 
 usual fatigues, Kit left his money on 
 the chimney-piece, with an inscrip- 
 tion in chalk calling his mother's at- 
 tention to the circumstance, and in- 
 forming her that it came from her 
 dutiful son ; and went his way, with a 
 heart something heavier than his 
 pockets, but free from any very great 
 oppression notwithstanding. 
 
 Oh these holidays ! why will they 
 leave us some regret 1 why cannot we 
 push them back, only a week or two in 
 our memories, so as to put them at 
 once at that convenient distance 
 whence they may be regarded either 
 with a calm indifference or a pleasant 
 effort of recollection ! why will they 
 hang about us, like the flavour of yes- 
 terday's wine, suggestive of headaches 
 and lassitude, and those good inten- 
 tions for the future, which, under the 
 earth, form the everlasting pavement 
 of a large estate, and, upon it, visually 
 endure until dinner-time or there- 
 abouts ! 
 
 Who will wonder that Barbara had 
 a headache, or that Barbara's mother 
 was disposed to be cross, or that she 
 slightly underrated Astley's, and 
 thought the clown was older than they 
 had taken him to be last night 1 Kit 
 was not surprised to hear her say so 
 not he. He had already had a mis- 
 giving that the inconstant actors in 
 that dazzling vision had been doing [ 
 the same thing the night before last, 
 and would do it again that night, and I 
 the next, and for weeks and months ! 
 to come, though he would not be there. 
 Such is the difference between yester- 
 
 day and to-day. We are all going to 
 the play, or coming home from it. 
 
 However, the Sun himself is weak 
 when he first rises, and gathers 
 strength and courage as the day gets 
 [ on. By degrees, they began to recall 
 circumstances more and more plea- 
 sant in their nature, until, what be- 
 tween talking, walking, and laughing, 
 they reached Finchley in such good 
 heart, that Barbara's mother declared 
 she never felt less tired or in better 
 spirits. And so said Kit. Barbara had 
 been silent all the way, but she said 
 so too. Poor little Barbara ! She 
 was very quiet. 
 
 They were at home in such good 
 time that Kit had rubbed down the 
 pony and made him as spruce as a 
 race-horse, before Mr. Garland came 
 down to breakfast ; which punctual 
 and industrious conduct the old lady, 
 and the old gentleman, and Mr. Abel, 
 highly extolled. At his usual hour 
 (or rather at his usual minute and 
 second, for he was the soul of punctu- 
 ality) Mr. Abel walked out, to be 
 overtaken by the London coach, and 
 Kit and the old gentleman went to 
 work in the garden. 
 
 This was not the least pleasant of 
 Kit's employments. On a fine day 
 they were quite a family party ; the 
 old lady sitting hard by with her work- 
 basket on a little table ; the old gen- 
 tleman digging, or pruning, or clip- 
 ping about with a large pair of shears, 
 or helping Kit hi some way or other 
 with great assiduity ; and Whisker 
 looking on from his paddock in placid 
 contemplation of them all. To-day 
 they were to trim the grape-vine, so 
 Kit mounted half-way up a short lad- 
 der, and began to snip and hammer 
 away, while the old gentleman, with a 
 great interest in his proceedings, 
 handed up the ^ails and shreds of 
 cloth as he wanted them. The old 
 lady and Whisker looked on as 
 usual. 
 
 " Well Christopher," said Mr. Gar-
 
 182 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 land, " and so you have made a new 
 friend, eh ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir 1 " returned 
 Kit, looking down from the ladder. 
 
 "You have made a new friend, I 
 hear from Mr. Abel," said the old 
 gentleman, " at the office ! " 
 
 "Oh yes sir, yes. He behaved 
 very handsome, sir." 
 
 " I 'm glad to hear it," returned the 
 old gentleman with a smile. " He is 
 disposed to behave more handsomely 
 Btill, though, Christopher." 
 
 " Indeed, sir ! It 's very kind in 
 him, but I don't want him to, I 'm 
 Bare," said Kit, hammering stoutly at 
 an obdurate nail. 
 
 " He is rather anxious," pursued 
 the old gentleman, "to have you in 
 his own service take care what you're 
 doing, or you will fall down and hurt 
 yourself." 
 
 " To have me in his service, sir ! " 
 cried Kit, who had stopped short in 
 his work and faced about on the 
 ladder like some dexterous tumbler. 
 " Why, sir, I don't think he can be in 
 earnest when he says that." 
 
 " Oh ! But he is indeed," said Mr. 
 Garland. " And he has told Mr. Abel 
 so." 
 
 " I never heard of such a thing ! " 
 muttered Kit, looking ruefully at his 
 master and mistress. " I wonder at 
 him ; that I do." 
 
 " You see, Christopher," said Mr. 
 Garland, " this is a point of much im- 
 portance to you, and you should un- 
 derstand and consider it in that light. 
 This gentleman is able to give you 
 more money than I not, I hope, to 
 carry through the various relations of 
 master and servant, more kindness 
 and confidence, but certainly, Christo- 
 pher, to give you more money." 
 
 " Well," said Kit, "after that, sir" 
 
 " Wait a moment," interposed Mr. 
 Garland. "That is not all. You 
 were a very faithful servant to your 
 old employers, as I understand, and 
 should this gentlemw recover them, 
 as it is his purpose to attempt doing 
 l>y every means in his power, I have 
 no doubt that you, being in his ser- 
 vice, would meet with your reward. 
 
 Besides," added the old gentleman 
 with stronger emphasis, "besides 
 having the pleasure of being again 
 brought into communication with 
 those to whom you seem to be so 
 very strongly and disinterestedly at- 
 tached. You must think of all this, 
 Christopher, and not be rash or hasty 
 in your choice." 
 
 Kit did suffer one twinge, one mo- 
 mentary pang, in keeping the resolu- 
 tion he had already formed, when this 
 last argument passed swiftly into his 
 thoughts, and conjured up the realisa- 
 tion of all his hopes and fancies. But 
 it was gone in a minute, and he 
 sturdily rejoined that the gentleman 
 must look out for somebody else, as 
 he did think he might have done at 
 first. 
 
 " He has no right to think that I 'd 
 be led away to go to him, sir," said 
 Kit, turning round again after half a 
 minute's hammering. " Does he tl link 
 I 'm a fool ? " 
 
 " He may, perhaps, Christopher, if 
 you refuse his offer," said Mr. Gar- 
 land gravely. 
 
 " Then let him, sir," retorted Kit ; 
 " what do I care, sir, what he thinks 1 
 why should I care for his thinking, 
 sir, when I know that I should be a 
 fool, and worse than a fool, sir, to 
 leave the kindest master and mistress 
 that ever was or can be, who took me 
 out of the streets a very poor and 
 hungry lad indeed poorer and hun- 
 grier perhaps than ever you think for, 
 sir to go to him or anybody ? If 
 Miss Nell was to come back, ma'am," 
 added Kit, turning suddenly to his 
 mistress, " why that would be another 
 thing, and perhaps if she wanted me, 
 I might ask you now and then to let 
 me work for her when all was done at 
 home. But when she comes back, I 
 see now that she'll be rich as old 
 master always said she would, and 
 being a rich young lady, what could 
 she want of me! No, no," added Kit, 
 shaking his head sorrowfully, " she '11 
 never want me any more, and bless 
 her, I hope she never may, though I 
 should like to see her too ! " 
 
 Here Kit drove a nail into the wall,
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 183 
 
 very hard much harder than was 
 necessary and having done so, faced 
 about again. 
 
 " There 'a the pony, sir," said Kit 
 " Whisker, ma'am (and he knows so 
 well I 'in talking about him that be 
 begins to neigh directly, sir), would 
 he let anybody come near him but me, 
 ma'am ? Here 's the garden, sir, and 
 Mr. Abel, ma'am. Would Mr. Abel 
 part with me, sir, or is there anybody 
 that could be fonder of the garden, 
 ma'am ? It would break mother's 
 heart, sir, and even little Jacob would 
 have sense enough to cry his eyes out, 
 ma'am, if he thought that Mr. Abel 
 could wish to part with me so soon, 
 after having told me, only the other 
 day, that he hoped we might be 
 together for years to come " 
 
 There is no telling how long Kit 
 might have stood upon the ladder, 
 addressing his master and mistress by 
 turns, and generally turning towards 
 the wrong person, if Barbara had not 
 at that moment come running up to 
 say that a messenger from the office 
 had brought a note, which, with an 
 expression of some surprise at Kit's 
 oratorical appearance, she put into her 
 master's hand. 
 
 " Oh! " said the old gentleman after 
 reading it, " ask the messenger to 
 walk this way." Barbara tripping off 
 to do as she was bid, he turned to Kit 
 and said that they would not pursue 
 the subject any further, and that Kit 
 could not be more unwilling to part 
 with them, than they would be to 
 part with Kit ; a sentiment which the 
 old lady very generously echoed. 
 
 " At the same time, Christopher," 
 added Mr. Garland, glancing at the 
 note in his hand, " if the gentleman 
 should want to borrow you now and 
 then for an hour or so, or even a day 
 or so, at a time, we must consent to 
 lend you, and you must consent to be 
 lent. Oh ! here is the young gentle- 
 man. How do you do, sir ? " 
 
 This salutation was addressed to 
 Mr. Chuckster, who, with his hat 
 extremely on one side, and his hair a 
 long way beyond it, came swaggering 
 up the walk. 
 
 " Hope I see you well, sir," re- 
 turned that gentleman. " Hope I see 
 you well, ma'am. Charming box this, 
 sir. Delicious country to be sure." 
 
 " You want to take Kit back with 
 you, I find ? " observed Mr. Garland. 
 
 u I 've got a chariot-cab waiting on 
 purpose," replied the clerk. " A very 
 spanking grey in that cab, sir, if 
 you 're a judge of horse-flesh." 
 
 Declining to inspect the spanking 
 grey, on the plea that he was but 
 poorly acquainted with such matters, 
 and would but imperfectly appreciate 
 his beauties, Mr. Garland invited Mr. 
 Chuckster to partake of a slight repast 
 in the way of lunch. That gentle- 
 man readily consenting, certain cold 
 viands, flanked with ale and wine, 
 were speedily prepared for his refresh- 
 ment. 
 
 At this repast, Mr. Chuckster 
 exerted his utmost abilities to enchant 
 his entertainers, and impress them 
 with a conviction of the mental su- 
 periority of those who dwelt in town ; 
 with which view he led the discourse 
 to the small scandal of the day, in 
 which he was justly considered by his 
 friends to shine prodigiously. Thus, 
 he was in a condition to relate the 
 exact circumstances of the difference 
 between the Marquis of Mizzler and 
 Lord Bobby, which it appeared origi- 
 nated in a disputed bottle of cham- 
 pagne, and not in a pigeon-pie, as 
 erroneously reported in the news- 
 papers ; neither had Lord Bobby said 
 to the Marquis of Mizzler, " Mizzler, 
 one of us two tells a lie, and I 'm not 
 the man," as incorrectly stated by the 
 same authorities ; but, " Mizzler, you 
 know where I 'm to be found, and, 
 damme, sir, find me if you want me " 
 which, of course, entirely changed 
 the aspect of this interesting question, 
 and placed it in a very different light. 
 He also acquainted them with the 
 precise amount of the income guaran- 
 ted by the Duke of Thigsberry to 
 Violetta Stetta of the Italian Opera, 
 which it appeared was payable quar- 
 terly, and not half-yearly, as the 
 public had been ^iven to understand, 
 and which was exclusive, and not in-
 
 184 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 elusive, (as had been monstrously 
 stated,) of jewellery, perfumery, hair- 
 powder for five footmen, and two 
 daily changes of kid-gloves for a page. 
 Having entreated the old lady and 
 gentleman to set their minds at rest 
 on these absorbing points, for they 
 might rely on his statement being the 
 correct one, Mr. Chuckster entertained 
 them with theatrical chit-chat and the 
 court circular ; and so wound up a 
 brilliant and fascinating conversation 
 which he had maintained alone, and 
 without any assistance whatever, for 
 upwards of three-quarters of an hour. 
 
 " And now that the nag has got his 
 wind again," said Mr. Chuckster rising 
 in a graceful manner, " I 'm afraid 
 I must cut my stick." 
 
 Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Garland 
 offered any opposition to his tearing 
 himself away, (feeling, no doubt, that 
 such a man could 511 be spared from 
 his pi-oper sphere of action,) and 
 therefore Mr. Chuckster and Kit were 
 shortly afterwards upon their way to 
 town ; Kit being perched upon the 
 box of the cabriolet beside the driver, 
 and Mr. Chuckster seated in solitary 
 state inside, with one of his boots 
 sticking out at each of the front 
 windows. 
 
 When they reached the Notary's 
 house, Kit followed into the office, and 
 was desired by Mr. Abel to sit down 
 -and wait, for the gentleman who 
 wanted him had gone out, and perhaps 
 -might not return for some time. This 
 anticipation was strictly verified, for 
 Kit had had his dinner, and his tea, 
 and had read all the lighter matter 
 in the Law-List, and the Post-Office 
 Directory, and had fallen asleep a 
 great many times, before the gentle- 
 man whom he had seen before, came 
 in ; which he did at last in a very 
 great hurry. 
 
 He was closeted with Mr. Wither- 
 den for some little time, and Mr. Abel 
 had been called in to assist at the con- 
 ference, before Kit, wondering very 
 much what he was wanted for, was 
 summoned to attend them. 
 
 " Christopher," said the gentleman, 
 turning to him directly he entered the 
 
 room, " I have found your old master 
 and young mistress." 
 
 " No, sir ! Have you, though ? " 
 returned Kit, his eyes sparkling with 
 delight. " Where are they, sir ? How 
 are they, sir ? Are they are they 
 near here I " 
 
 " A long way from here," returned 
 the gentleman, shaking his head. 
 " But I am going away to-night to 
 bring them back, and I want you to go 
 with me." 
 
 " Me, sir ? " cried Kit, full of joy 
 and surprise. 
 
 " The place," said the strange gen- 
 tleman, turning thoughtfully to the 
 Notary, "indicated by this man of the 
 dogs, is how far from here sixty 
 miles ? " 
 
 " From sixty to seventy." 
 
 " Humph ! If we travel post all 
 night, we shall reach there in good time 
 to-morrow morning. Now, the only 
 question is, as they will not know me, 
 and the child, God bless her, would 
 think that any stranger pursuing them 
 had a design upon her grandfather's 
 liberty, can I do better than take 
 this lad, whom they both know and 
 will readily remember, as an assurance 
 to them of my friendly intentions ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," replied the Notary. 
 " Take Christopher by all means." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir," said Kit, 
 who had listened to this discourse 
 with a lengthening countenance, " but 
 if that 's the reason, I 'in afraid I 
 should do more harm than good 
 Miss Nell, sir, she knows me, and 
 would trust in me, I am sure ; but old 
 master I don't know why, gentle- 
 men; nobody does would not bear 
 me in his sight after he had been ill, 
 and Miss Nell herself told me that I 
 must not go near him or let him see 
 me any more. I should spoil all that 
 you were doing if I went, I 'm afraid. 
 I 'd give the world to go, but you had 
 better not take me, sir." 
 
 " Another difficulty ! " cried the 
 impetuous gentleman. " Was ever 
 man so beset as I ? Is there nobody 
 else that knew them, nobody else in 
 whom they had any confidence ? Soli- 
 tary as their lives were, is there no
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 185 
 
 one person who would serve my pur- 
 pose ? " 
 
 " /* there, Christopher I " said the 
 Notary. 
 
 Not one, sir," replied Kit. Yes, 
 though there 's my mother." 
 
 "Did they know her!" said the 
 single gentleman. 
 
 " Know her, sir ! why, she was 
 always coming backwards and for- 
 wards. They were as kind to her as 
 they were to me. Bless you, sir, she 
 expected they 'd come back to her 
 house." 
 
 " Then where the devil is the 
 woman ? " said the impatient gentle- 
 man, catching up his hat. " Why isn't 
 she here ! Why is that woman always 
 out of the way when she is most 
 wanted ? " 
 
 In a word, the single gentleman was 
 bursting out of the office, bent upon 
 laying violent hands on Kit's mother, 
 forcing her into a post-chaise, and 
 carrying her off, when this novel kind 
 of abduction was with some difficulty 
 prevented by the joint efforts of Mr. 
 
 Abel and the Notary, who restrained 
 him by dint of their remonstrances, 
 and persuaded him to sound Kit upon 
 the probability of her being able and 
 willing to undertake such a journey on 
 so short a notice. 
 
 This occasioned some doubts on 
 the part of Kit, and some violent de- 
 monstrations on that of the single 
 gentleman, and a great many soothing 
 speeches on that of the Notary and 
 Mr. Abel. The upshot of the business 
 was, that Kit, after weighing the matter 
 in his mind and considering it care- 
 fully, promised, on behalf of his 
 mother, that she should be ready 
 within two hours from that time to 
 undertake the expedition, and engaged 
 to produce her in that place, in all 
 respects equipped and prepared for 
 the journey, before the specified period 
 had expired. 
 
 Having given this pledge, which 
 was rather a bold one, and not parti- 
 cularly easy of redemption, Kit lost no 
 time in sallying forth, and taking mea- 
 sures for its immediate fulfilment. 
 
 CHAPTER XLT. 
 
 KIT made his way through the 
 crowded streets, dividing the stream of 
 people, dashing across the busy road- 
 ways, diving into lanes and alleys, and 
 stopping or turning aside for nothing, 
 until he came in front of the Old 
 Curiosity Shop, when he came to a 
 stand ; partly from habit and partly 
 from being out of breath. 
 
 It was a gloomy autumn evening, 
 and he thought the old place had never 
 looked so dismal as in its dreary twi- 
 light. The windows broken, the rusty 
 sashes rattling in their frames, the 
 deserted house a dull barrier dividing 
 the glaring lights and bustle of the 
 street into two long lines, and standing 
 in the midst, cold, dark, find empty, 
 presented a cheerless spectacle which 
 
 mingled harshly with the bright pros- 
 pects the boy had been building up for 
 its late inmates, and came like a disap- 
 pointment or misfortune. Kit would 
 have had a good fire roaring up the 
 empty chimneys, lights sparkling and 
 shining through the windows, people 
 moving briskly to and fro, voices in 
 cheerful conversation, something in 
 unison with the new hopes that were 
 astir. He had not expected that the 
 house would wear any different aspect 
 had known indeed that it could not 
 but coming upon it in the midst of 
 eager thoughts and expectations, it 
 checked the current in its flow, and 
 darkened it with a mournful shadow. 
 
 Kit, however, fortunately for him- 
 self, was not learned enough or con-
 
 186 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 templative enough to be troubled with 
 presages of evil afar off, and, having no 
 mental spectacles to assist his vision in 
 this respect, saw nothing but the dull 
 house, which jarred uncomfortably 
 upon his previous thoughts. So, 
 almost wishing that he had not passed 
 it, though hardly knowing why, he 
 hurried on again, making up by his 
 increased speed for the few moments 
 he had lost. 
 
 " Now, if she should be out," thought 
 Kit, as he approached the poor dwel- 
 ling of his mother, " and I not able to 
 find her, this impatient gentleman 
 would be in a pretty taking. And sure 
 enough there 's no light, and the door 's 
 fast. Now, God forgive me for saying 
 so, but if this is Little Bethel's doing, 
 I wish Little Bethel was was farther 
 off," said Kit checking himself, and 
 knocking at the door. 
 
 A second knock brought no reply 
 from within the house ; but caused a 
 woman over the way to look out and 
 inquire who that was, awanting Mrs. 
 Nubbles. 
 
 " Me," said Kit. "She's at at 
 Little Bethel, I suppose ? " getting 
 out the name of the obnoxious conven- 
 ticle with some reluctance, and laying 
 a spiteful emphasis upon the words. 
 The neighbour nodded assent. 
 " Then pray tell me where it is," 
 said Kit, " for I have come on a press- 
 ing matter, and must fetch her out, 
 even if she was in the pulpit. 
 
 It was not very easy to procure a 
 direction to the fold in question, as 
 none of the neighbours were of the 
 flock that resorted thither, and few 
 knew anything more of it than the 
 name. At last, a gossip of Mrs. Nub- 
 bles's, who had accompanied her to 
 chapel on one or two occasions when a 
 comfortable cup of tea had preceded 
 her devotions, furnished the needful 
 information, which Kit had no sooner 
 obtained than he started off again. 
 
 Little Bethel might have been 
 nearer, and might have been in a 
 straighter road, though in that case the 
 reverend gentleman who presided over 
 its congregation would have lost his 
 favourite allusion to the crooked ways 
 
 by which it was approached, and which 
 enabled him to liken it to Paradise 
 itself, in contradistinction to the parish 
 church and the broad thoroughfare 
 leading thereunto. Kit found it, at 
 last, after some trouble, and pausing at 
 the door to take breath that he might 
 enter with becoming decency, passed 
 into the chapel. 
 
 It was not badly named in one 
 respect, being in truth a particularly 
 little Bethel a Bethel of the smallest 
 dimensions with a small number of 
 small pews, and a small pulpit, in 
 which a small gentleman (by trade a 
 Shoemaker, and by calling a Divine) 
 was delivering in a by no means small 
 voice, a by no means small sermon, 
 judging of its dimensions by the con- 
 dition of his audience, which, if their 
 gross amount were but small, com- 
 prised a still smaller number of 
 hearers, as the majority were slum- 
 bering. 
 
 Among these, was Kit's mother, who, 
 finding it matter of extreme difficulty 
 to keep her eyes open after the fatigues 
 of last night, and feeling their inclina- 
 tion to close strongly backed and 
 seconded by the arguments of the 
 preacher, had yielded to the drowsi- 
 ness that overpowered her, and fallen 
 asleep ; though not so soundly but that 
 she could, from time to time, utter a 
 slight and almost inaudible groan, as if 
 in recognition of the orator's doctrines. 
 The baby in her arms was as fast asleep 
 as she ; and little Jacob, whose youth 
 prevented him from recognising in this 
 prolonged spiritual nourishment any- 
 thing half as interesting as oysters, was 
 alternately very fast asleep and very 
 wide awake, as his inclination to slum- 
 ber, or his terror of being personally 
 alluded to in the discourse, gained the 
 mastery over him. 
 
 " And now I 'm here," thought Kit, 
 gliding into the nearest empty pew 
 which was opposite his mother's, and 
 on the other side of the little aisle, 
 " how am I ever to get at her, or per- 
 suade her to come out ! I might as 
 well be twenty miles off. She '11 never 
 wake till it 's all over, and there goes 
 the clock again ! If he would but
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 187 
 
 leave off for a minute, or if they 'd only 
 sing i 
 
 But there was little encouragement 
 to believe that either event would 
 happen for a couple of hours to come. 
 The preacher went on telling them 
 what he meant to convince them of 
 before he had done, and it was clear 
 that if he only kept to one-half of his 
 promises and forgot the other, he was 
 good for that time at least. 
 
 In his desperation and restlessness 
 Kit cast his eyes about the chapel, and 
 happening to let them fall upon a little 
 seat in front of the clerk's desk, could 
 scarcely believe them when they 
 showed him Quilp ! 
 
 He rubbed them twice or thrice, 
 but still they insisted that Quilp was 
 there, and there indeed he was, sitting 
 with his hands upon his knees, and his 
 hat between them on a little wooden 
 bracket, with the accustomed grin 
 on his dirty face, and his eyes fixed 
 upon the ceiling. He certainly did not 
 glance at Kit or at his mother, and 
 appeared utterly unconscious of their 
 presence ; still Kit could not help 
 feeling, directly, that the attention of 
 the sly little fiend was fastened upon 
 them, and upon nothing else. 
 
 But, astounded as he was by the 
 apparition of the dwarf among the 
 Little Bethelites, and not free from a 
 misgiving that it was the forerunner 
 of some trouble or annoyance, he was 
 compelled to subdue his wonder and 
 to take active measures for the with- 
 drawal of his parent, as the evening 
 was now creeping on, and the matter 
 grew serious. Therefore, the next 
 time little Jacob woke, Kit set him- 
 self to attract his wandering attention, 
 and this not being a very difficult task 
 (one sneeze effected it), he signed to 
 him to rouse his mother. 
 
 Ill-luck would have it, however, 
 that, just then, the preacher, in a 
 forcible exposition of one head of his 
 discourse, leaned over upon the pulpit- 
 desk so that very little more of him 
 than his legs remained inside : and, 
 while he made vehement gestures with 
 his right hand, and held on with his 
 left, stared, or seemed to stare, straight 
 
 into little Jacob's eyes, threatening 
 him by his strained look and attitude 
 so it appeared to the child that if 
 he so much as moved a muscle, he, the 
 preacher, would be literally, and not 
 figuratively, " down upon him " that 
 instant. In this fearful state of things, 
 distracted by the sudden appearance 
 of Kit, and fascinated by the eyes of 
 the preacher, the miserable Jacob sat 
 bolt upright, wholly incapable of mo- 
 tion, strongly disposed to cry but 
 afraid to do so, and returning his 
 pastor's gaze until his infant eyes 
 seemed starting from their sockets. 
 
 " If I must do it openly, I must," 
 thought Kit. With that, he walked 
 softly out of his pew and into his 
 mother's, and as Mr. Swiveller would 
 have observed if he had been present, 
 " collared " the baby without speaking 
 a word. 
 
 "Hush, mother!" whispered Kit. 
 " Come along with me, I 've got some- 
 thing to tell you." 
 
 Where am I " said Mrs. Nubbles. 
 
 "In this blessed Little Bethel," re- 
 turned her son, peevishly. 
 
 " Blessed indeed ! " cried Mrs. 
 Nubbles, catching at the word. " Oh, 
 Christopher, how have I been edified 
 this night ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know," said Kit 
 hastily ; " but come along, mother, 
 everybody 's looking at us. Don't 
 make a noise bring Jacob that's 
 right !" 
 
 " Stay, Satan, stay ! " cried the 
 preacher, as Kit was moving off. 
 
 " The gentleman says you're to 
 stay, Christopher," whispered his 
 mother. 
 
 " Stay, Satan, stay ! " roared the 
 preacher again. " Tempt not the 
 woman that doth incline her ear to 
 thee, but hearken to the voice of him 
 that calleth. He hath a lamb from 
 the fold ! " cried the preacher, raising 
 his voice still higher and pointing to 
 the baby. " He beareth off a lamb, a 
 precious lamb ! He goeth about, like 
 a wolf in the night season, and in- 
 veigleth the tender lambs ! " 
 
 Kit was the best-tempered fellow in 
 the world, but considering this, strong
 
 188 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 language, and being somewhat excited 
 by the circumstances in which he was 
 placed, he faced round to the pulpit 
 with the baby in his arms, and replied 
 aloud, 
 
 " No, I don't. He's my brother." 
 
 " He 's my brother ! " cried the 
 preacher. 
 
 " He isn't," said Kit indignantly. 
 
 " How can you say such a thing ? 
 and don't call me names if you please ; 
 what harm have I done ? I shouldn't 
 have come to take 'em away, unless I 
 was obliged, you may depend upon 
 that. I wanted to do it very quiet, 
 but you wouldn't let me. Now, 
 you have the goodness to abuse Satan 
 and them, as much as you like, sir, 
 and to let me alone if you please." 
 
 So saying, Kit marched out of the 
 chapel, followed by his mother and 
 little Jacob, and found himself in the 
 open air, with an indistinct recollec- 
 tion of having seen the people wake 
 up and look surprised, and of Quilp 
 having remained, throughout the in- 
 terruption, in his old attitude, without 
 moving his eyes from the ceiling, or 
 appearing to take the smallest notice 
 of anything that passed. 
 
 "Oh Kit !" said his mother, with 
 her handkerchief to her eyes, " what 
 have you done ! I never can go there 
 again never ! " 
 
 " I 'm glad of it, mother. What was 
 there in the little bit of pleasure you 
 took last night that made it necessary 
 for you to be low-spirited and sorrow- 
 ful to-night I That 's the way you do. 
 If you 're happy or merry ever, you 
 come here to say, along with that 
 chap, that you 're sorry for it. More 
 shame for you, mother, I was going to 
 say." 
 
 " Hush dear ! " said Mrs. Nubbles ; 
 " you don't mean what you say I 
 know, but you 're talking sinfulness." 
 
 " Don't mean it ? But I do mean it !" 
 retorted Kit. " I don't believe, mother, 
 that harmless cheerfulness and good- 
 humour are thought greater sins in 
 Heaven than shirt-collars are, and I do 
 believe that those chaps are just about 
 as right and sensible in putting down the 
 one as in leaving off the other that 's 
 
 my belief. But I won't say anything 
 more about it, if you '11 promise not to 
 cry, that 's all ; and you take the baby 
 that's a lighter weight, and give me 
 little Jacob ; and as we go along 
 (which we must do pretty quick) I'll 
 tell you the news I bring, which will 
 surprise you a little, I can tell you. 
 There that 'a right. Now you look 
 as if you 'd never seen Little Bethel in 
 all your life, as I hope you never will 
 again ; and here's the baby ; and little 
 Jacob, you get atop of my back and 
 catch hold of me tight round the neck, 
 and whenever a Little Bethel parson 
 calls you a precious lamb or says your 
 brother 's one, you tell him it 's the 
 truest things he 's said for a twelve- 
 month, and that if he 'd got a little 
 more of the lamb himself, and less of 
 the mint-sauce not being quite so 
 sharp and sour over it I should like 
 him all the better. That's what 
 you 've got to say to him, Jacob !" 
 
 Talking on in this way, half in jest 
 and half in eai-nest, and cheering up 
 his mother, the children, and himself, 
 by the one simple process of deter- 
 mining to be in a good humour, Kit 
 led them briskly forward ; and on the 
 road home, he related what had passed 
 at the Notary's house, and the purpose 
 with which he had intruded on the 
 solemnities of Little Bethel. 
 
 His mother was not a little startled 
 on learning what service was required 
 of her, and presently fell into a con- 
 fusion of ideas, of which the most 
 prominent were that it was a great 
 honour and dignity to ride in a post- 
 chaise, and that it was a moral impos- 
 sibility to leave the children behind. 
 But this objection, and a great many 
 others, founded 011 certain articles of 
 dress being at the wash, and certain 
 other articles having no existence in 
 the wardrobe of Mrs. Nubbles, were 
 overcome by Kit, who opposed to 
 each and every of them, the pleasure 
 of recovering Nell, and the delight 
 it would be to bring her back hi 
 triumph. 
 
 " There 's only ten minutes now, 
 mother " said Kit when they reached 
 home. " There 's a bandbox. Throw
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 189 
 
 in what you want, and we '11 be off 
 directly." 
 
 To tell how Kit then hustled into 
 the box all sorts of things which could, 
 by no remote contingency, be wanted, 
 and how he left out everything likely 
 to be of the smallest use ; how a 
 neighbour was persuaded to oome and 
 stop with the children, and how the 
 children at first cried dismally, and 
 then laughed heartily on being pro- 
 mised all kinds of impossible and 
 unheard-of toys ; how Kit's mother 
 wouldn't leave off kissing them, and 
 how Kit couldn't make up his mind to 
 be vexed with her for doing it ; would 
 take more time and room than you and 
 I can spare. So, passing over all such 
 matters, it is sufficient to say that 
 within a few minutes after the two 
 hours had expired, Kit and his mother 
 arrived at the Notary's door, where a 
 postchaise was already waiting. 
 
 " With four horses I declare ! " said 
 Kit, quite aghast at the preparations. 
 " Well you are going to do it, mother ! 
 Here she is, sir. Here 's my mother. 
 She's quite ready sir." 
 
 "That's well," returned the gen- 
 tleman. " Now, don't be in a flutter 
 ma'am ; you '11 be taken great care of. 
 Where 's the box with the new cloth- 
 ing and necessaries for them ? " 
 
 " Here it is," said the Notary. u In 
 with it, Christopher." 
 
 All right sir," replied Kit. Quite 
 ready now sir." 
 
 " Then come along," said the single 
 gentleman. And thereupon he gave 
 his arm to Kit's mother, handed her 
 into the carriage as politely as you 
 please, and took his seat beside her. 
 
 Up went the steps, bang went the 
 door, round whirled the wheels, and 
 off they rattled, with Kit's mother 
 hanging out at one window waving a 
 damp pocket-handkerchief and scream- 
 ing out a great many messages to little 
 Jacob and the baby, of which nobody 
 heard a word. 
 
 Kit stood in the middle of the road, 
 and looked after them with tears in 
 his eyes not brought there by the 
 departure he witnessed, but by the 
 return to which he looked forward. 
 " They went away " he thought, " on 
 foot with nobody to speak to them or 
 say a kind word at parting, and 
 they '11 come back, drawn by four 
 horses, with this rich gentleman for 
 their friend, and all their troubles 
 over ! She '11 forget that she taught 
 me to write " 
 
 Whatever Kit thought about after 
 this, took some time to think of, for 
 he stood gazing up the lines of shining 
 lamps, long after the chaise had dis- 
 appeared, and did not return into the 
 house until the Notary and Mr. Abel, 
 who had themselves lingered outside 
 till the sound of the wheels was no 
 longer distinguishable, had several 
 times wondered what could possibly 
 detain him.
 
 190 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 IT behoves us to leave Kit for a 
 while, thoughtful and expectant, and 
 to follow the fortunes of little Nell ; 
 resuming the thread of the narrative 
 at the point where it was left, some 
 chapters back. 
 
 In one of those wanderings in the 
 evening time, when, following the two 
 sisters at a humble distance, she felt, 
 in her sympathy with them and her 
 recognition in their trials of something 
 akin to her own loneliness of spirit, a 
 comfort and consolation which made 
 such moments a time of deep delight, 
 though the softened pleasure they 
 yielded was of that kind which lives 
 and dies in tears in one of those wan- 
 derings at the quiet hour of twilight, 
 when sky, and earth, and air, and 
 rippling water, and sound of distant 
 bells, claimed kindred with the emo- 
 tions of the solitary child, and inspired 
 her with soothing thoughts, but not of 
 a child's world or its easy joys in one 
 of those rambles which had now be- 
 come her only pleasure or relief from 
 care, light had faded into darkness and 
 evening deepened into night, and still 
 the young creature lingered in the 
 gloom ; feeling a companionship in 
 Nature so serene and still, when noise 
 of tongues and glare of garish lights 
 would have been solitude indeed. 
 
 The sisters had gone home, and she 
 was alone. She raised her eyes to the 
 bright stars, looking down so mildly 
 from the wide worlds of air, and, gazing 
 on them, found new stars burst upon 
 her view, and more beyond, and more 
 beyond again, until the whole great 
 expanse sparkled with shining spheres, 
 rising higher and higher in immeasur- 
 able space, eternal in their numbers as 
 in their changeless and incorruptible 
 existence. She bent over the calm 
 river, and saw them shining in the 
 same majestic order as when the dove 
 beheld them gleaming through the 
 swollen waters, upon the mountain 
 tops down far below, and dead man- 
 kind, a million fathoms deep. 
 
 The child sat silently beneath a tree, 
 hushed in her very breath by the still- 
 ness of the night, and all its attendant 
 wonders. The time and place awoke 
 reflection, and she thought with a quiet 
 hope less hope, perhaps, than resig- 
 nation on the past, and present, and 
 what was yet before her. Between the 
 old man and herself there had come a 
 gradual separation, harder to bear 
 than any former sorrow. Every even- 
 ing, and often in the day-time too, he 
 was absent, alone ; and although she 
 well knew where he went, and why 
 too well from the constant drain upon 
 her scanty purse and from his haggard 
 looks he evaded all inquiry, main- 
 tained a strict reserve, and even 
 shunned her presence. 
 
 She sat meditating sorrowfully upon 
 this change, and mingling it, as it 
 were, with everything about her, when 
 the distant church-clock bell struck 
 nine. Rising at the sound, she retraced 
 her steps, and turned thoughtfully to- 
 wards the town. 
 
 She had gained a little wooden 
 bridge, which, thrown across the 
 stream, led into a meadow in her way, 
 when she came suddenly upon a ruddy 
 light, and looking forward more atten- 
 tively, discerned that it proceeded 
 from what appeared to be an encamp- 
 ment of gipsies, who had made a fire 
 in one corner at no great distance from 
 the path, and were sitting or lying 
 round it. As she was too poor to have 
 any fear of them, she did not alter her 
 course, (which, indeed, she could not 
 have done without going a long way 
 round,)but quickened her pace a little, 
 and kept straight on. 
 
 A movement of timid curiosity im- 
 pelled her, when she approached the 
 spot, to glance towards the fire. There 
 was a form between it and her, the 
 outline strongly developed against the 
 light, which caused her to stop ab- 
 ruptly. Then, as if she had reasoned 
 with herself and were assured that it 
 could not be, or haa satisfied herself
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 Ifll 
 
 that it was not, that of the person she 
 had supposed, she went on again. 
 
 But at that instant the conversation, 
 whatever it was, which had been car- 
 rying on near this fire was resumed, 
 and the tones of the voice that spoke 
 she could not distinguish words 
 sounded as familiar to her as her 
 own. 
 
 She turned, and looked back. The 
 person had been seated before, but was 
 now in a standing posture, and lean- 
 ing forward on a stick on which he 
 rested both hands. The attitude was 
 no less familiar to her than the tone of 
 voice had been. It was her grand- 
 father. 
 
 Her first impulse was to call to him ; 
 her next to wonder who his associates 
 could be, and for what purpose they 
 were together. Some vague apprehen- 
 sion succeeded, and, yielding to the 
 strong inclination it awakened, she 
 drew nearer to the place ; not ad- 
 vancing across the open field, how- 
 ever, but creeping towards it by the 
 hedge. 
 
 In this way she advanced within a 
 few feet of the fire, and standing among 
 a few young trees, could both see and 
 hear, without much danger of being 
 observed. 
 
 There were no women or children, 
 as she had seen in other gipsy camps 
 they had passed in their wayfaring, 
 and but one gipsy a tall athletic man, 
 who stood with his arms folded, leaning j 
 against a tree at a little distance off, 
 looking now at the fire, and now, un- i 
 der his black eyelashes, at three other i 
 men who were there, with a watchful 
 but half-concealed interest in their con- 
 versation. Of these, her grandfather 
 was one ; the others she recognised as 
 the first card-players at the public- 
 house on the eventful night of the 
 storm the man whom they had called 
 Isaac List, and his gruff companion. 
 One of the low, arched gipsy-tents, 
 common to that people, was pitched 
 hard by, but it either was, or appeared 
 to be, empty. 
 
 " Well, are you going 1 " said the 
 stout man, looking up from the ground 
 where he was lying at his ease, into 
 
 her grandfather's face. " You were in 
 a mighty hurry a minute ago. Go, if 
 you like. You 're your own master, I 
 hope ? " 
 
 " Don't vex him," returned Isaac 
 List, who was squatting like a frog on 
 the other side of the fire, and had so 
 screwed himself up that he seeemed to 
 be squinting all over ; " he didn't mean 
 any offence." 
 
 ' You keep me poor, and plunder 
 me, and make a sport and jest of me 
 besides," said the old man, turning 
 from one to the other. " Ye '11 drive 
 me mad among ye." 
 
 The utter irresolution and feeble- 
 ness of the gray-haired child, con- 
 trasted with the keen and cunning 
 looks of those in whose hands he was, 
 smote upon the little listener's heart. 
 But she constrained herself to attend 
 to all that passed, and to note each 
 look and word. 
 
 " Confound you, what do you mean ? " 
 said the stout man rising a little, and 
 supporting himself on his elbow. 
 " Keep you poor ! You 'd keep us 
 poor if you could, wouldn't you ? 
 That 's the way with you whining, 
 puny, pitiful players. When you lose, 
 you 're martyrs ; but I don't find that 
 when you win, you look upon the other 
 losers in that light As to plunder ! " 
 cried the fellow, raising his voice 
 " Damme, what do you mean by such 
 ungentlemanly language as plunder, 
 eh?" 
 
 The speaker laid himself down again 
 at full length, and gave one or two 
 short, angry kicks, as if in further 
 expression of his unbounded indigna- 
 tion. It was quite plain that he acted 
 the bully, and his friend the peace- 
 maker, for some particular purpose ; 
 or rather, it would have been to any 
 one but the weak old man ; for they 
 exchanged glances quite openly, both 
 with each other and with the gipsy, 
 who grinned his approval of the jest 
 until his white teeth shone again. 
 
 The old man stood helplessly among 
 them for a little time, and then said, 
 turning to his assailant : 
 
 " You yourself were speaking of 
 plunder just now, you know. Don't
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 bo so violent with me. You were, 
 were you not ? " 
 
 " Not of plundering among present 
 
 company 
 gentlemen, 
 
 Honour among among 
 sir," returned the other, 
 
 who seemed to have been very near 
 giving an awkward termination to the 
 sentence. 
 
 " Don't be heard upon him, Jowl," 
 said Isaac List. " He 's very sorry for 
 giving offence. There go on with 
 what you were saying go on." 
 
 " I 'in a jolly old tender-hearted 
 lamb, I am," cried Mr. Jowl, to be 
 sitting here at my time of life giving 
 advice, when I know it won't be taken, 
 and that I shall get nothing but abuse 
 for my pains. But that 's the way 
 I Ve gone through life. Experience 
 has never put a chill upon my warm- 
 heartedness." 
 
 I tell you he 's very sorry, don't 
 
 day ; nothing would be more likely 
 than for one of these strangers to get 
 under the good lady's bed, or lock 
 himself in the cupboard ; suspicion 
 would be very wide, and would fall a 
 long way from the mark, no doubt. 
 I 'd give him his revenge to the last 
 farthing he brought, whatever the 
 amount was." 
 
 " But could you ? " urged Isaac List. 
 " Is your bank strong enough ? " 
 
 " Strong enough ! " answered the 
 othei', with assumed disdain. " Here, 
 you sir, give me that box out of the 
 straw ! " 
 
 This was addressed to the gipsy, 
 who crawled into the low tent on all 
 fours, and after some rumaging and 
 1'iistling returned with a cash-box, 
 which the man who had spoken opened 
 with a key he wore about his person. 
 
 " Do you see this ? " he said, gather- 
 
 I?" remonstrated Isaac List, "and ing up the money in his hand and 
 
 that he wishes you 'd go on." 
 
 " Does he wish it ? " said the other. 
 
 " Ay," groaned the old man sitting 
 down, and rocking himself to and fro. 
 " Go on, go on. It 's in vain to fight 
 with it ; I can't do it ; go on. " 
 
 " I go on then," said Jowl, " where 
 I left off, when you got up so quick. 
 If you 're persuaded that it 's time 
 for luck to turn, as it certainly is, and 
 find that you haven't means enough to 
 try it, (and that 's where it is, for you 
 know, yourself, that you never have 
 the funds to keep on long enough at a 
 sitting,) help yourself to what seems 
 put in your way on purpose. Borrow 
 it, I say, and, when you 're able, pay it 
 back again." 
 
 "Certainly," Isaac List struck in, 
 " if this good lady as keeps the wax- 
 works has money, and does keep it in 
 a tin box when she goes to bed, and 
 doesn't lock her door for fear of fire, it 
 eeems a easy thing; quite a Provi- 
 dence, I should call it but then I 've 
 been religiously brought up." 
 
 " You see, Isaac," said his friend, 
 growing more eager, and drawing him- 
 self closer to the old man, while he 
 signed to the gipsy not to come between 
 them ; " you see, Isaac, strangers are 
 going in and out, every hour of the 
 
 letting it drop back into the box, be- 
 tween his fingers, like water. " Do 
 you hear it ? Do you know the sound 
 of gold? There, put it back and 
 don't talk about banks again, Isaac, 
 till you 've got one of your own." 
 
 Isaac List, with great apparent hu- 
 mility, protested that he had never 
 doubted the credit of a gentleman so 
 notorious for his honourable dealing as 
 Mi\ Jowl, and that he had hinted at 
 the production of the box, not for the 
 satisfaction of his doubts, for he could 
 have none, but with a view to being 
 regaled with a sight of so much wealth, 
 which, though it might be deemed by 
 some but an unsubstantial and vision- 
 ary pleasure, was to one in his circum- 
 stances a source of extreme delight, 
 only to be surpassed by its safe depo- 
 sitory in his own personal pockets. 
 Although Mr. List and Mr. Jowl ad- 
 dressed themselves to each other, it 
 was remarkable that they both looked 
 narrowly at the old man, who, with 
 his eyes fixed upon the fire, sat brood- 
 ing over it, yet listening eagerly as 
 it seemed from a certainly involuntary 
 motion of the head, or twitching of 
 ihe face from time to time to all they 
 
 said. 
 
 My advice," said Jowl, lying down
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 193 
 
 again, with a careless air, " is plain 
 I have given it, in fact. I act as a 
 friend. Why should I help a man to 
 the means perhaps of winning all I 
 have, unless I considered him my 
 friend 2 It 's foolish, I dare say, to be 
 so thoughtful of the welfare of other 
 
 feople, but that 's my constitution, and 
 can't help it ;. so don't blame me, 
 Isaac List." 
 
 " / blame you ! " returned the per- 
 son addressed ; " not for the world, 
 Mr. Jowl. I wish I could afford to 
 be as liberal as you ; and, as you say, 
 lie might pay it back if he won and if 
 he lost " 
 
 " You 're not to take that into con- 
 sideration at all," said Jowl. " But 
 suppose he did, (and nothing's less 
 likely, from all I know of chances,) 
 why, it 's better to lose other people's 
 money than one's own, I hope I " 
 
 " Ah ! " cried Isaac List raptur- 
 ously, " the pleasures of winning ! 
 Thedelight of picking up the money 
 the bright, shining yellow-boys 
 and sweeping 'em into one's pocket ! 
 The deliciousness of having a triumph 
 at last, and thinking that one didn't 
 stop short and turn back, but went 
 
 half-way to meet it ! The but 
 
 you 're not going, old gentleman ? " 
 
 " I '11 do it," said the old man, who 
 had risen and taken two or three hur- 
 ried steps away, and now returned as 
 hurriedly. " I '11 have it, every 
 penny." 
 
 " Why, that 's brave," cried Isaac, 
 jumping up and slapping him on the 
 shoulder ; " and I respect you for 
 having so much young blood left. Ha, 
 ha, ha ! Joe Jowl 's half sorry he ad- 
 vised you now. We 've got the laugh 
 against him. Ha, ha, ha ! " 
 
 " He gives me my revenge, mind," 
 said the old man, pointing to him 
 eagerly with his shrivelled hand ; 
 " mind he stakes coin against coin, 
 down to the last one in the box, be 
 there many or few. Remember 
 that ! " 
 
 " I 'm witness," returned Isaac. 
 I 'II see fair between you." 
 
 " I have passed my word," said 
 Jowl, with feigned reluctance, "and 
 
 No. 76. 
 
 I '11 keep it. When does this match 
 come off? I wish it was over. To- 
 night ? " 
 
 " I must have the money first," said 
 the old man ; " and that I '11 have to- 
 morrow " 
 
 " Why not to-night ? " urged Jowl. 
 
 " It 's late now, and I should be 
 flushed and flurried," said the old 
 man. " It must be softly done. No, 
 to-morrow night." 
 
 " Then to-morrow be it," said Jowl. 
 "A drop of comfort here. Luck to 
 the best man ! Fill ! " 
 
 The gipsy produced three tin cups, 
 and filled them to the brim with 
 brandy. The old man turned aside 
 and muttered to himself before he 
 drank. Her own name struck upon 
 the listener's ear, coupled with some 
 wish so fervent, that he seemed to 
 breathe it in an agony of supplica- 
 tion. 
 
 " God be merciful to us ! " cried 
 the child within herself, " and help us 
 in this trying hour ! What shall I do 
 to save him ! " 
 
 The remainder of their conversa- 
 tion was carried on in a lower tone of 
 voice, and was sufficiently concise ; 
 relating merely to the execution of 
 the project, and the best precautions 
 for diverting suspicion. The old man 
 then shook hands with his tempters, 
 and withdrew. 
 
 They watched his bowed and stoop- 
 ing figure as it retreated slowly, and 
 when he turned his head to look back, 
 which he often did, waved their hands, 
 or shouted some brief encouragement. 
 It was not until they had seen him 
 gradually diminish into a mere speck 
 upon the distant road, that they turned 
 to each other, and ventured to laugh 
 aloud. 
 
 " So," said Jowl, warming his hands 
 at the fire, "it's done at last. He 
 wanted more persuading than I ex- 
 pected. It 's three weeks ago, since we 
 first put this hi his head. What '11 he 
 bring, do you think I " 
 
 " Whatever he brings, it 's halved 
 between us," returned Isaac List. 
 
 The other man nodded. " We must 
 make quick work of it," he said, " and 
 13
 
 194 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 then cut his acquaintance, or we may 
 be suspected. Sharp 's the word." 
 
 List and the gipsy acquiesced. 
 "When they had all three amused 
 themselves a little with their victim's 
 infatuation, they dismissed the subject 
 as one which had been sufficiently dis- 
 cussed, and began to talk in a jargon 
 which the child did not understand. 
 As their discourse appeared to relate 
 to matters in which they were warmly 
 interested, however, she deemed it the 
 best time for escaping unobserved ; 
 and crept away with slow and cautious 
 steps, keeping in the shadow of the 
 hedges, or forcing a path through 
 them or the dry ditches, until she 
 could emerge upon the road at a point 
 beyond their range of vision. Then 
 ehe fled homewards as quickly as she 
 could, torn and bleeding from the 
 wounds of thorns and briers, but more 
 lacerated in mind, and threw herself 
 upon her bed, distracted. 
 
 The first idea that flashed upon her 
 mind was flight, instant flight ; drag- 
 ging him from that place, and rather 
 dying of want upon the roadside, than 
 ever exposing him again, to such ter- 
 rible temptations. Then, she remem- 
 bered that the crime was not to be 
 committed until next night, and there 
 was the intermediate time for thinking, 
 and resolving what to do. Then, she 
 was distracted with a horrible fear 
 that he might be committing it at that 
 moment ; with a dread of hearing 
 shrieks and cries piercing the silence 
 of the night ; with fearful thoughts of 
 what he might be tempted and led on 
 to do, if he were detected in the act, 
 and had but a woman to struggle 
 with. It was impossible to bear such 
 torture. She stole to the room where 
 the money was, opened the door, and 
 looked in. God be praised ! He was 
 not there, and she was sleeping 
 soundly. 
 
 She went back to her own room, 
 and tried to prepare herself for bed . 
 But who could sleep sleep ! who 
 could lie passively down, distracted by 
 euch terrors I They came upon her 
 more and more strongly yet. Half 
 undressed, and with her hair in wild 
 
 disorder, she flew to the old man's 
 bedside, clasped him by the wrist, and 
 roused him from his sleep. 
 
 " What 's this ! " he cried, starting 
 up, in bed, and fixing his eyes upon 
 her spectral face. 
 
 " I have had a dreadful dream," 
 said the child, with an energy that 
 nothing but such terrors could have 
 inspired. "A dreadful, horrible dream. 
 I have had it once before. It is a 
 dream of grey-haired men like you, in 
 darkened rooms by night, robbing the 
 sleepers of their gold. Up, up ! " The 
 old man shook in every joint, and 
 folded his hands like one who prays. 
 
 " Not to me," said the child, " not 
 to me to Heaven, to save us from 
 such deeds ! This dream is too real. 
 I cannot sleep, I cannot stay here, I 
 cannot leave you alone under the roof 
 where such dreams come. Up ! We 
 must fly." 
 
 He looked at her as if she were a 
 spirit she might have been, for all 
 the look of earth she had and trem- 
 bled more and more. 
 
 " There is no time to lose ; I will 
 not lose one minute," said the child. 
 " Up ! and away with me ! " 
 
 " To-night \ " murmured the old 
 man. 
 
 " Yes, to-night," replied the child. 
 "To-morrow night will be too late. 
 The dream will have come again. 
 Nothing but flight can save us. Up! " 
 
 The old man rose from his bed : his 
 forehead bedewed with the cold sweat 
 of fear : and, bending before the child 
 as if she had been an angel messenger 
 sent to lead him where she would, 
 made ready to follow her. She took 
 him by the hand and led him on. As 
 they passed the door of the room he 
 had proposed to rob, she shuddered 
 and looked up into his face. What a 
 white face was that, and with what a 
 look did he meet hers ! 
 
 She took him to her own chamber, 
 and, still holding him by the hand as 
 if she feared to lose him for an instant, 
 gathered together the little stock she 
 had, and hung her basket on her arm. 
 The old man took his wallet from her 
 hands and strapped it on his shoulders
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 195 
 
 his staff, too, she had brought away 
 and then she led him forth. 
 
 Through the strait streets, and 
 narrow crooked outskirts, their trem- 
 bling feet passed quickly. Up the 
 steep hill too, crowned by the old grey 
 castle, they toiled with rapid steps, and 
 had not once looked behind. 
 
 But as they drew nearer the ruined 
 walls, the moon rose in all her gentle 
 
 glory, and, from their venerable age, 
 garlanded with ivy, moss, and waving 
 grass, the child looked back upon the 
 sleeping town, deep in the valley's 
 shade : and on the far-off river with its 
 winding track of light : and on the 
 distant hills ; and as she did so, she 
 clasped the hand she held, less firmly, 
 and bursting into tears, fell upon the 
 old man's neck. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 HEK momentary weakness past, the 
 child again summoned the resolution 
 which had until now sustained her, 
 and, endeavouring to keep steadily in 
 her view the one idea that they were 
 flying from disgrace and crime, and 
 that her grandfather's preservation 
 must depend solely on her firmness, 
 unaided by one word of advice or any 
 helping hand, urged him onward and 
 looked back no more. 
 
 While he, subdued and abashed, 
 seemed to crouch before her, and to 
 shrink and cower down, as if in the 
 presence of some superior creature, 
 the child herself was sensible of a new 
 feeling within her, which elevated her 
 nature, and inspired her with an 
 energy and confidence she had never 
 known. There was no divided respon- 
 sibility now ; the whole burden of 
 their two lives had fallen upon her, 
 and henceforth she must think and act 
 for both. " I have saved him," she 
 thought. " In all dangers and dis- 
 tresses, I will remember that." 
 
 At any other time, the recollection 
 of having deserted the friend who had 
 shown them so much homely kindness, 
 without a word of justification the 
 thought that they were guilty, in 
 appearance, of treachery and ingrati- 
 tude even the having parted from 
 the two sisters would have filled her 
 with sorrow and regret. But now, all 
 other considerations were lost in the 
 
 new uncertainties and anxieties of 
 their wild and wandering life ; and 
 the very desperation f their con- 
 dition roused and stimulated her. 
 
 In the pale moonlight, which lent a 
 wanness of its own to the delicate face 
 where thoughtful care already min- 
 gled with the winning grace and love- 
 liness of youth, the too bright eye, the 
 spiritual head, the lips that pressed 
 each other with such high resolve and 
 courage of the heart, the slight figure 
 firm in its bearing and yet so very 
 weak, told their silent tale ; but told 
 it only to the wind that rustled by, 
 which, taking up its burden, carried, 
 perhaps to some mother's pillow, faint 
 dreams of childhood fading in its 
 bloom, and resting in the sleep that 
 knows no waking. 
 
 The night crept on apace, the moon 
 went down, the stars grew pale and 
 dim, and morning, cold as they, slowly 
 approached. Then, from behind a 
 distant hill, the noble sun rose up, 
 driving the mists in phantom shapes 
 before it, and clearing the earth of 
 their ghostly forms till darkness came 
 again. When it had climbed higher 
 into the sky, and there was warmth 
 in its cheerful beams, they laid them 
 down to sleep, upon a bank, hard by 
 some water. 
 
 But Nell retained her grasp upon 
 the old man's arm, and long after he 
 was slumbering soundly, watched him 
 o2
 
 19G 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 with untiring eyes. Fatigue stole 
 over her at last ; her grasp relaxed, 
 tightened, relaxed again, and they 
 slept side by side. 
 
 A confused sound of voices, ming- 
 ling with her dreams, awoke her. A 
 man of very uncouth and rough 
 appearance was. standing over them, 
 and two of his companions were look- 
 ing on, from a long heavy boat which 
 had come close to the bank while they 
 were sleeping. The boat had neither 
 oar nor sail, but was towed by a 
 couple of horses, who, with the rope 
 to which they were harnessed slack 
 and dripping in the water, were rest- 
 ing on the path. 
 
 " Holloa ! " said the man roughly. 
 " What 's the matter here \ " 
 
 " We were only asleep, sir," said 
 Nell. " We have been walking all 
 night." 
 
 " A pair of queer travellers to be 
 walking all night," observed the man 
 -who had first accosted them. " One 
 of you is a trifle too old for that sort 
 of work, and the other a trifle too 
 young. Where are you going ? " 
 
 Nell faltered, and pointed at hazard 
 towards the West, upon which the 
 man inquired if she meant a certain 
 town which he named. Nell, to avoid 
 more questioning, said " Yes, that was 
 the place." 
 
 " Where have you come from ? " was 
 the next question ; and this being an 
 easier one to answer, Nell mentioned 
 the name of the village in which their 
 friend the schoolmaster dwelt, as being 
 less likely to be known to the men or 
 to provoke further inquiry. 
 
 " I thought somebody had been 
 robbing and ill-using you, might be," 
 said the man. " That 's all. Good 
 day." 
 
 Returning his salute and feeling 
 greatly relieved by his departure, Nell 
 looked after him as he mounted one of 
 the horses, and the boat went on. It 
 had not gone very far, when it stopped 
 again, and she saw the men beckoning 
 to her. 
 
 " Did you call to me ? " said Nell, 
 running up to them. 
 
 " You may go with us if you like," 
 
 replied one of those in the boat. 
 " We 're going to the same place." 
 
 The child hesitated for a moment. 
 Thinking, as she had thought with 
 great trepidation more than once be- 
 fore, that the men whom she had seen 
 with her grandfather might, perhaps, 
 in their eagerness for the booty, follow 
 them, and, regaining their influence 
 over him, set hers at nought ; and that 
 if they went with these men, all traces 
 of them must surely be lost at that 
 spot ; determined to accept the offer. 
 The boat came close to the bank again, 
 and before she had had any more time 
 for consideration, she and her grand- 
 father were on board, and gliding 
 smoothly down the canal. 
 
 The sun shone pleasantly on the 
 bright water, whicn was sometimes 
 shaded by trees, and sometimes open 
 to a wide extent of country, intersected 
 by running streams, and rich with 
 wooded hills, cultivated land, and 
 sheltered farms. Now and then, a 
 village with its modest spire, thatched 
 roofs, and gable-ends, would peep out 
 from among the trees ; and, more than 
 once, a distant town, with great church 
 towers looming through its smoke, 
 and high factories or workshops rising 
 above the mass of houses, would come 
 in view, and, by the length of time it 
 lingered in the distance, show them 
 how slowly they travelled. Their way 
 lay, for the most part, through the low 
 grounds, and open plains ; and except 
 these distant places, and occasionally 
 some men working in the fields, or 
 lounging on the bridges under which 
 they passed, to see them creep along, 
 nothing encroached on their mono- 
 tonous and secluded track. 
 
 Nell was rather disheartened, when 
 they stopped at a kind of wharf late in 
 the afternoon, to learn from one of the 
 men that they would not reach their 
 place of destination until next day, 
 and that, if she had no provision with 
 her, she had better buy it there. She 
 had but a few pence, having already 
 bargained with them for some bread, 
 but even of these it was necessary to 
 be very careful, as they were on their 
 way to an utterly strange place, with
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 197 
 
 no resource whatever. A small loaf 
 and a morsel of cheese, therefore, 
 were all she could afford, and with 
 these she took her place in the boat 
 again, and, after half an hour's delay 
 during which the men were drinking 
 at the public-house, proceeded on the 
 journey. 
 
 They brought some beer and spirits 
 into the boat with them, and what with 
 drinking freely before, and again now, 
 were soon in a fair way of being 
 quarrelsome and intoxicated. Avoid- 
 ing the small cabin, therefore, which 
 was very dark and filthy, and to which 
 they often invited both her and her 
 grandfather, Nell sat in the open air 
 with the old man by her side : listening 
 to their boisterous hosts with a palpi- 
 tating heart, arid almost wishing her- 
 self safe on shore again though she 
 should have to walk all night. 
 
 They were, in truth, very rugged, 
 noisy fellows, and quite brutal among 
 themselves, though civil enough to 
 their two passengers. Thus, when a 
 quarrel arose between the man who 
 was steering and his friend in the 
 cabin, upon the question who had first 
 suggested the propriety of offering 
 Nell some beer, and when the quarrel 
 led to a scuffle in which they beat each 
 other fearfully, to her inexpressible 
 terror, neither visited his displeasure 
 upon her, but each contented himself 
 with venting it on his adversary, on 
 whom, in addition to blows, he be- 
 stowed a variety of compliments, 
 which, happily for the child, were 
 conveyed in terms, to her quite unin- 
 telligible. The difference was finally 
 adjusted, by the man who had come 
 out of the cabin knocking the other 
 into it head first, and taking the helm 
 into his own hands, without evincing 
 the least discomposure himself, or 
 causing any in his friend, who, being 
 of a tolerably strong constitution and 
 perfectly inured to such trifles, went 
 to sleep as he was, with his heels up- 
 wards, and in a couple of minutes or 
 so was snoring comfortably. 
 
 By this time it was night again, and 
 though the child felt cold, being but 
 poorly clad, her anxious thoughts were 
 
 far removed from her own suffering or 
 uneasiness, and busily engaged in en- 
 deavouring to devise some scheme for ' 
 their joint subsistence. The same 
 spirit which had supported her on the 
 previous night, upheld and sustained 
 her now.' Her grandfather lay sleep- 
 ing safely at her side, and the crime to 
 which his madness urged him, was not 
 committed. That was her comfort. 
 
 How every circumstance of her 
 short, eventful life, came thronging 
 into her mind, as they travelled on ! 
 Slight incidents, never thought of or 
 remembered until now ; faces, seen 
 once and ever since forgotten ; words, 
 scarcely heeded at the time ; scenes, 
 of a year ago and those of yesterday, 
 mixing up and linking themselves to- 
 gether ; familiar places shaping them- 
 selves out in the darkness from things 
 which, when approached, were, of all 
 others, the most remote and most 
 unlike them ; sometimes, a strange 
 confusion in her mind relative to the 
 occasion of her being there, and the 
 place to which she was going, and the 
 people she was with ; and imagination 
 suggesting remarks and questions 
 which sounded so plainly in her ears, 
 that she would start, and turn, and be 
 almost tempted to reply ; all the fan- 
 cies and contradictions common in 
 watching and excitement and restless 
 change of place, beset the child. 
 
 She happened, while she was thus 
 engaged, to encounter the face of the 
 man on deck, in whom the sentimental 
 stage of drunkenness had now suc- 
 ceeded to the boisterous, and who, 
 taking from his mouth a short pipe, 
 quilted over with string for its longer 
 preservation, requested that she would 
 oblige him with a song. 
 
 " You 've got a very pretty voice, a 
 very soft eye, and a very strong 
 memory," said this gentleman ; u the 
 voice and eye I 've got evidence for, 
 and the memory 'a an opinion of my 
 own. And I 'm never wrong. Let 
 me hear a song this minute." 
 
 I don't think I know one, sir," 
 returned Nell. 
 
 " You know forty-seven songs," said 
 the man, with a gravity which admitted
 
 198 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 of no altercation on the subject. 
 " Forty-seven 's your number. Let me 
 hear one of 'em the best. Give me a 
 song this minute. 
 
 Not knowing what might be the con- 
 sequences of irritating her friend, and 
 trembling with the fear of doing so, 
 poor Nell sang him some little ditty 
 which she had learned in happier 
 times, and which was so agreeable to 
 his ear, that on its conclusion he in the 
 same peremptory manner requested to 
 be favoured with another, to which he 
 was so obliging as to roar a chorus to 
 no particular tune, and with no words 
 at all, but which amply made up in its 
 amazing energy for its deficiency in 
 other respects. The noise of this vocal 
 performance awakened the other man, 
 who, staggering upon deck and shaking 
 his late opponent by the hand, swore 
 that singing was his pride and joy and 
 chief delight, and that he desired no 
 better entertainment. With a third 
 call, more imperative than either of the 
 two former, Nell felt obliged to comply, 
 and this time a chorus was maintained 
 not only by the two men together, but 
 also by the third man on horseback, 
 who, being by his position debarred 
 from a nearer participation in the 
 revels of the night, roared when his 
 companions roared, and rent the very 
 air. In this way, with little cessation, 
 and singing the same songs again and 
 again, the tired and exhausted child 
 kept them in good humour all that 
 night ; and many a cottager, who was 
 roused from his soundest sleep by the 
 discordant chorus as it floated away 
 upon the wind, hid his head beneath 
 the bed-clothes and trembled at the 
 sounds. 
 
 At length the morning dawned. It 
 was no sooner light than it began to 
 rain heavily. As the child could not 
 endure the intolerable vapours of the 
 
 cabin, they covered her, in return for 
 her exertions, with some pieces of sail- 
 cloth and ends of tarpaulin, which 
 sufficed to keep her tolerably dry and 
 to shelter her grandfather besides. As 
 the day advanced the rain increased. 
 At noon it poured down more hope- 
 lessly and heavily than ever, without 
 the faintest promise of abatement. 
 
 They had, for some time, been gra- 
 dually approaching the place for which 
 they were bound. The water had 
 become thicker and dirtier ; other 
 barges, coming from it, passed them 
 frequently ; the paths of coal-ash and 
 huts of staring brick, marked the 
 vicinity of some great manufacturing 
 town ; while scattered streets and 
 houses, and smoke from distant fur- 
 naces, indicated that they were already 
 in the outskirts. Now, the clustered 
 roofs, and piles of buildings, trembling 
 with the working of engines, and dimly 
 resounding with their shrieks and 
 throbbings ; the tall chimneys vomit- 
 ing forth a black vapour, which hung 
 in a dense ill-favoured cloud above the 
 housetops and filled the air with gloom ; 
 the clank of hammers beating upon 
 iron, the roar of busy streets and noisy 
 crowds, gradually augmenting until all 
 the various sounds blended into one 
 and none was distinguishable for itself, 
 announced the termination of their 
 journey. 
 
 The boat floated into the wharf to 
 which it belonged. The men were 
 occupied directly. The child and her 
 grandfather, after waiting in vain to 
 thank them, or ask them whither they 
 should go, passed through a dirty lane 
 into a crowded street, and stood, amid 
 its din and tumult, and in the pouring 
 rain, as strange, bewildered, and con- 
 fused, as if they had lived a thousand 
 years before, and were raised from the 
 dead and placed there by a miracle.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 199 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 THE throng of people hurried by, 
 in two opposite streams, with no 
 symptom of cessation or exhaustion ; 
 intent upon their own affairs ; and un- 
 disturbed in their business specula- 
 tions, by the roar of carts and waggons 
 laden with clashing wares, the slipping 
 of horses' feet upon the wet and greasy 
 pavement, the rattling of the ram on 
 windows and umbrella- tops, th jost- 
 ling of the more impatient passengers. 
 and all the noise and tumult of a 
 crowded street in the high tide of its 
 occupation : while the two poor stran- 
 gers, stunned and bewildered by the 
 hurry they beheld but had no part in, 
 looked mournfully on ; feeling, amidst 
 the crowd, a solitude which has no 
 parallel but in the thirst of the ship- 
 wrecked mariner, who, tost to and fro 
 upon the billows of a mighty ocean, his 
 red eyes blinded by looking on the 
 water which hems him in on every 
 side, has not one drop to cool his 
 burning tongue. 
 
 They withdrew into a low archway 
 for shelter from the rain, and watched 
 the faces of those who passed, to find 
 hi one among them a ray of encourage- 
 ment or hope. Some frowned, some 
 smiled, some muttered to themselves, 
 some made slight gestures, as if antici- 
 pating the conversation in which they 
 would shortly be engaged, some wore 
 the cunning look of bargaining and 
 plotting, some were anxious and eager, 
 some slow and dull ; in some counte- 
 nances, were written gain ; hi others, 
 loss. It was like being in the confi- 
 dence of all these people to stand 
 quietly there, looking into their faces 
 as they flitted past. In busy places, 
 where each man has an object of his 
 own, and feels assured that every other 
 man has his, his character and purpose 
 are written broadly in his face. In 
 the public walks and lounges of a town, 
 people go to see and to be seen, and 
 there the same expression, with little 
 variety, is repeated a hundred times. 
 The working-day faces come nearer 
 
 to the truth, and let it ont mote 
 plainly. 
 
 Falling into that kind of abstraction 
 which such a solitude awakens, the 
 child continued to gaze upon the pass- 
 ing crowd with a wondering interest^ 
 amounting almost to a temporary for- 
 getfulness of her own condition. But 
 cold, wet, hunger, want of rest, and 
 lack of any place in which to lay her 
 aching head, soon brought her thoughts 
 back to the point whence they had 
 strayed. No one passed who seemed 
 to notice them, or to whom she durst 
 appeal. After some time, they left 
 their place of refuge from the weather, 
 and mingled with the concourse. 
 
 Evening came on. They were stiH 
 wandering up and down, with fewer 
 people about them, but with the same 
 sense of solitude in then? own breasts, 
 and the same indifference from all 
 around. The lights in the streets and 
 shops made them feel yet more deso- 
 late, for with their help, night and 
 darkness seemed to come on faster. 
 Shivering with the cold and damp, 511 
 j in body, and sick to death at heart, the 
 ! child needed her utmost firmness and 
 I resolution even to creep along. 
 
 Why had they ever come to this 
 ! noisy town, when there were peaceful 
 | country places, in which, at least, they 
 might have hungered and thirsted, 
 with less suffering than in its squalid 
 strife ! They were but an atom, here, 
 in a mountain heap of misery, the very 
 sight of which increased their hope- 
 lessness and suffering. 
 
 The child had not only to endure 
 the accumulated hardships of their 
 destitute condition, but to bear the 
 reproaches of her grandfather, who 
 began to murmur at having been led 
 away from their late abode, and de- 
 : mand that they should return to it. 
 Being now penniless, and no relief or 
 prospect of relief appearing, they re- 
 traced their steps through the deserted 
 streets, and went back to the wharf, 
 hoping to find the boat in which they
 
 200 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 had come, and to be allowed to sleep 
 on board that night. But here again 
 they were disappointed, for the gate 
 was closed, and some fierce dogs, bark- 
 ing at their approach, obliged them to 
 retreat. 
 
 " We must sleep in the open air to- 
 night, dear," said the child in a weak 
 voice, as they turned away from this 
 last repulse ; " and to-morrow we will 
 beg our way to some quiet part of the 
 country, and try to earn our bread in 
 very humble work." 
 
 " Why did you bring me here ? " 
 returned the old man fiercely. " I 
 cannot bear these close eternal streets. 
 We came from a quiet part. Why did 
 you force me to leave it 2 " 
 
 " Because I must have that dream 
 I told you of, no more," said the child, 
 with a momentary firmness that lost 
 itself in tears ; " aud we must live 
 among poor people, or it will come 
 again. Dear grandfather, you are old 
 and weak, I know ; but look at me. I 
 never will complain if you will not, 
 but I have some suffering indeed." 
 
 "Ah ! poor, houseless, wandering, 
 motherless child ! " cried the old man, 
 clasping his hands and gazing as if for 
 the first time upon her anxious face, 
 her travel-stained dress, and bruised 
 and swollen feet ; " has all my agony 
 of care brought her to this at last ! 
 Was I a happy man once, and have I 
 lost happiness and all I had, for this ! " 
 
 " If we were in the country now," 
 said the child, with assumed cheerful- 
 ness, as they walked on looking about 
 them for a shelter, " we should find 
 some good old tree, stretching out his 
 green arms as if he loved us, and 
 nodding and rustling as if he would 
 have us fall asleep, thinking of him 
 while he watched. Please God, we 
 shall be there soon to-morrow or 
 next day at the farthest and in the 
 meantime let us think, dear, that it 
 was a good thing we came here ; for 
 we are lost in the crowd and hurry of 
 this place, and if any cruel people 
 should pursue us, they could surely 
 never trace us further. There 's com- 
 fort in that. And here 'a a deep old 
 doorway very dark, but quite dry, 
 
 and warm too, for the wind don't blow 
 in here What 's that ! " 
 
 Uttering a half-shriek, she recoiled 
 from a black figure which came sud- 
 denly out of the dark recess in which 
 they were about to take refuge, and 
 stood still, looking at them. 
 
 " Speak again," it said ; " do I know 
 the voice ? " 
 
 " No," replied the child timidly ; 
 "we are strangers, and having no 
 money for a night's lodging, were 
 going to rest here." 
 
 There was a feeble lamp at no great 
 distance ; the only one in the place, 
 which was a kind of square yard, but 
 sufficient to show how poor aud mean 
 it was. To this, the figure beckoned 
 them ; at the same time drawing 
 within its rays, as if to show that it 
 had no desire to conceal itself or take 
 them at an advantage. 
 
 The form was that of a man, miser- 
 ably clad and begrimed with smoke, 
 which, perhaps by its contrast with 
 the natural colour of his skin, made 
 him look paler than he really was. 
 That he was naturally of a very wan 
 and pallid aspect, however, his hollow 
 cheeks, sharp features, and sunken 
 eyes, 110 less than a certain look of 
 patient endurance, sufficiently testified. 
 His voice was harsh by nature, but 
 not brutal ; and though his face, be- 
 sides possessing the characteristics 
 already mentioned, was overshadowed 
 by a quantity of long dark hair, its 
 expression was neither ferocious nor 
 bad. 
 
 " How came you to think of resting 
 there I " he said. " Or how," he 
 added, looking more attentively at the 
 child, " do you come to want a place 
 of rest at this time of night ? " 
 
 " Our misfortunes," the grandfather 
 answered, " are the cause." 
 
 "Do you know," said the man, 
 looking still more earnestly at Nell, 
 " how wet she is, and that the damp 
 streets are not a place for her ? " 
 
 " I know it well, God help me," he 
 replied. " What can I do ! " 
 
 The man looked at Nell again, and 
 gently touched her garments, from 
 which the rain was running off in little
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 201 
 
 streams. " I can give you warmth," 
 he said, after a pause ; " nothing else. 
 Such lodging as I have, is in that 
 house," pointing to the doorway from 
 which he had emerged, "but she is 
 safer and better there than here. The 
 fire is in a rough place, but you can 
 pass the night beside it safely, if you '11 
 trust yourselves to me. You see that 
 red light yonder 1 " 
 
 They raised their eyes, and saw a 
 lurid glare hanging in the dark sky ; 
 the dull reflection of some distant fire. 
 
 " It 's not far," said the man. 
 " Shall I take you there ? You were 
 going to sleep upon cold bricks ; I can 
 give you a bed of warm ashes 
 nothing better." 
 
 Without waiting for any farther 
 reply than he saw in their looks, he 
 took Nell in his arms, and bade the 
 old man follow. 
 
 Carrying her as tenderly, and as 
 easily too, as if she had been an infant, 
 and showing himself both swift and 
 sure of foot, he led the way through 
 what appeared to be the poorest and 
 most wretched quarter of the town ; 
 not turning aside to avoid the over- 
 flowing kennels or running water- 
 spouts, but holding his course, regard- 
 less of such obstructions, and making 
 his way straight through them. They 
 had proceeded thus, in silence, for some 
 quarter of an hour, and had lost sight 
 of the glare to which he had pointed, 
 in the dark and narrow ways by which 
 they had come, when it suddenly burst 
 upon them again, streaming up from 
 the high chimney of a building close 
 before them. 
 
 " This is the place," he said, pausing 
 at a door to put NeH down and take 
 her hand. " Don't be afraid. There 's 
 nobody here, will harm you." 
 
 It needed a strong confidence in 
 this assurance to induce them to enter, 
 and what they saw inside did not 
 diminish their apprehension and alarm. 
 In a large and lofty building, supported 
 by pillars of iron, with great black 
 apertures in the upper walls, open to 
 the external air ; echoing to the roof 
 with the beating of hammers and roar 
 of furnaces, mingled with the hissing 
 
 of red-hot metal plunged in water, and 
 a hundred strange unearthly noises 
 never heard elsewhere ; in this gloomy 
 place, moving like demons among the 
 flame and smoke, dimly and fitfully 
 seen, flushed and tormented by the 
 burning fires, and wielding great 
 weapons, a faulty blow from any one 
 of which must have crushed some 
 workman's skull, a number of men 
 laboured like giants. Others, reposing 
 upon heaps of coals or ashes, with 
 their faces turned to the black vault 
 above, slept or rested from their toil. 
 Others again, opening the white-hot 
 furnace-doors, cast fuel on the flames, 
 which came rushing and roaring forth 
 to meet it, and licked it up like oil. 
 Others drew forth, with clashing noise, 
 upon the ground, great sheets of glow- 
 ing steel, emitting an insupportable 
 heat, and a dull deep light like that 
 which reddens in the eyes of savage 
 beasts. 
 
 Through these bewildering sights 
 and deafening sounds, their conductor 
 led them to where, in a dark portion 
 of the building, one furnace burnt by 
 night and day so, at least, they 
 gathered from the motion of his lips, 
 for as yet they could only see him 
 speak : not hear him. The man who 
 had been watching this fire, and whose 
 task was ended for the present, gladly 
 withdrew, and left them with their 
 friend, who, spreading Nell's little 
 cloak upon a heap of ashes, and show- 
 ing her where she could hang her 
 outer-clothes to dry, signed to her and 
 the old man to lie down and sleep. 
 For himself, he took his station on a 
 rugged mat before the furnace-door, 
 and resting his chin upon his hands, 
 watched the flame as it shone through 
 the iron chinks, and the white ashes 
 as they fell into their bright hot grave 
 below. 
 
 The warmth of her bed, hard and 
 humble as it was, combined with the 
 great fatigue she had undergone, soon 
 caused the tumult of the place to fall 
 with a gentler sound upon the child's 
 tired ears, and was not long in lulling 
 her to sleep. The old man was 
 stretched beside her, and with her
 
 202 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 hand upon his neck she lay and 
 dreamed. 
 
 It was yet night when she awoke, 
 nor did she know how long, or for how 
 short a time, she had slept. But she 
 found herself protected, both from any 
 cold air that might find its way into 
 the building, and from the scorching 
 heat, by some of the workmen's 
 clothes ; and glancing at their friend 
 saw that he sat hi exactly the same 
 attitude, looking with a fixed earnest- 
 ness of attention towards the fire, and 
 keeping so very still that he did not 
 even seem to breathe. She lay in the 
 state between sleeping and waking, 
 looking so long at his motionless figure 
 that at length she almost feared he 
 had died as he sat there ; and, softly 
 rising and drawing close to him, ven- 
 tured to whisper in his ear. 
 
 He moved, and glancing from her 
 to the place she had lately occupied, 
 as if to assure himself that it was 
 really the child so near him, looked 
 inquiringly into her face. 
 
 " I feared you were ill," she said. 
 " The other men are all in. motion, 
 and you are so very quiet." 
 
 " They leave me to myself," he re- 
 plied. " They know my humour. 
 They laugh at me, but don't harm me 
 in it. See yonder there that's my 
 friend." 
 
 The fire 1 " said the child. 
 
 " It has been alive as long as I 
 have," the man made answer. " We 
 talk and think together all night long." 
 
 The child glanced quickly at him 
 in her surprise, but he had turned his 
 eyes in their former direction, and 
 was musing as before. 
 
 " It 's like a book to me," he said 
 " the only book I ever learned to read ; 
 and many an old story it tells me. It 's 
 music, for I should know its voice 
 among a thousand, and there are other 
 voices in its roar. It has its pictures 
 too. You don't know how many 
 strange faces and different scenes I 
 trace in the red-hot coals. It's my 
 memory, that fire, and shows me all 
 my life." 
 
 The child, bending down to listen to 
 his words, could not help remarking 
 
 with what brightened eyes he con- 
 tinued to speak and muse. 
 
 " Yes," he said, with a faint smile, 
 " it was the same when I was quite a 
 baby, and crawled about it, till I fell 
 asleep. My father watched it then." 
 
 " Had you no mother \ " asked the 
 child. 
 
 " No, she was dead. Women work 
 hard in these parts. She worked her- 
 self to death they told me, and, as 
 they said so then, the fire has gone on 
 saying the same thing ever since. I 
 suppose it was true. I have always 
 believed it." 
 
 " Were you brought up here, 
 then * " said the child. 
 
 " Summer and winter," he replied. 
 "Secretly at first, but when they 
 found it out, they let him keep me 
 here. So the fire nursed me the 
 same fire. It has never gone out." 
 
 "You are fond of it?" said the 
 child. 
 
 " Of course I am. He died before 
 it. I saw him fall down just there, 
 where those ashes are burning now 
 and wondered, I remember, why it 
 didn't help him." 
 
 " Have you been here, ever since \ " 
 asked the child. 
 
 " Ever since I came to watch it ; 
 but there was a while between, and a 
 very cold dreary while it was. It 
 burnt all the time though, and roared 
 and leaped when I came back, as it 
 used to do in our play days. You 
 may guess, from looking at me, what 
 kind of child I was, but for all the 
 difference between us I was a child, 
 and when I saw you in the street to- 
 night, you put me in mind of my- 
 self, as I was after he died, and made 
 me wish to bring you to the fire. I 
 thought of those old times again, when 
 I saw you sleeping by it. You should 
 be sleeping now. Lie down again, 
 poor child, lie down again !" 
 
 With that, he led her to her rude 
 couch, and covering her with the 
 clothes with which she had found her- 
 self enveloped when she woke, re- 
 turned to his seat, whence he moved 
 no more unless to feed the furnace, 
 but remained motionless as a statue.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 203 
 
 The child continued to watch him for 
 a little time, but soon yielded to the 
 drowsiness that came upon her, and, 
 in the dark strange place and on the 
 heap of ashes, slept as peacefully, as if 
 the room had been a palace chamber, 
 and the bed, a bed of down. 
 
 When she awoke again, broad day 
 was shining through the lofty open- 
 ings in the walls, and, stealing in 
 slanting rays but midway down, 
 seemed to make the building darker 
 than it had been at night. The clang 
 and tumult we're still going on, and 
 the remorseless fires were burning 
 fiercely as before ; for few changes of 
 night and day brought rest or quiet 
 there. 
 
 Her friend parted his breakfast 
 a scanty mess of coffee and some 
 coarse bread with the child and her 
 grandfather, and inquired whither 
 they were going. She told him that 
 they sought some distant country 
 place, remote from towns or even 
 other villages, and with a faultering 
 tongue inquired what road they would 
 do best to take. 
 
 " I know little of the country," he 
 said, shaking his head, " for such as I, 
 pass all our lives before our furnace 
 doors, and seldom go forth to breathe. 
 But there are such places yonder." 
 
 " And far from here ? " said Nell. 
 
 " Aye surely. How could they be 
 near us, and be green and fresh ? The 
 road lies, too, through miles and miles, 
 all lighted up by fires like ours a 
 strange black road, and one that would 
 frighten you by night." 
 
 "We are here and must go on," 
 said the child boldly ; for she saw that 
 the old man listened with anxious ears 
 to this account 
 
 " Rough people paths never made 
 for little feet like yours a dismal, 
 blighted way is there no turning 
 back, my child 1 " 
 
 " There is none," cried Nell, press- 
 ing forward. " If you can direct us, 
 do. If not, pray do not seek to turn 
 us from our purpose. Indeed you do 
 not know the danger that we shun, 
 and how right and true we are in 
 flying from it, or you would not try 
 to stop us, I am sure you would 
 not." 
 
 " God forbid, if it is so ! " said their 
 uncouth protector, glancing from the 
 eager child to her grandfather, who 
 hung his head and bent his eyes upon 
 the ground. " I '11 direct you from 
 the door, the best I can. I wish I 
 could do more-." 
 
 He showed them, then, by which 
 road they must leave the town, and 
 what course they should hold when 
 they had gained it. He lingered so 
 long on these instructions, that the 
 child, with a fervent blessing, tore 
 herself away, and staid to hear no 
 more. 
 
 But, before they had reached the 
 corner of the lane, the man came 
 running after them, and, pressing 
 her hand, left something in it two 
 old, battered, smoke-encrusted penny 
 pieces. Who knows but they shone 
 as brightly in the eyes of angels, as 
 golden gifts that have been chronicled 
 on tombs ? 
 
 And thus they separated ; the child 
 to lead her sacred charge farther 
 from guilt and shame; and the labourer 
 to attach a fresh interest to the spot 
 where his guests had slept, and read 
 new histories in his furnace fire.
 
 204 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 IN all their journeying, they had 
 never longed so ardently, they had 
 never so pined and wearied, for the 
 freedom of pure air and open country, 
 as now. No, not even on that me- 
 morable morning, when, deserting 
 their old home, they abandoned them- 
 selves to the mercies of a strange 
 world, and left all the dumb and 
 senseless things they had known and 
 loved, behind not even then, had 
 they so yeamed for the fresh solitudes 
 of wood, hill-side, and field, as now, 
 when the noise and dirt and vapour, 
 of the great manufacturing town, 
 reeking with lean misery and hungry 
 wretchedness, hemmed them in on 
 every side, and seemed to shut out 
 hope, and render escape impossible. 
 
 " Two days and nights ! " thought 
 the child. " He said two days and 
 nights we should have to spend among 
 such scenes as these. Oh ! if we live 
 to reach the country once again, if 
 we get clear of these dreadful places, 
 though it is only to lie down and die, 
 with what a grateful heart I shall 
 thank God for so much mercy !" 
 
 With thoughts like this, and with 
 some vague design of travelling to a 
 great distance among streams and 
 mountains, where only very poor and 
 simple people lived, and where they 
 might maintain themselves by very 
 humble helping work in farms, free 
 from such terrors as that from which 
 they fled, the child, with no resource 
 but the poor man's gift, and no en- 
 couragement but that which flowed 
 from her own heart, and its sense of 
 the truth and right of what she did, 
 nerved herself to this last journey and 
 boldly pursued her task. 
 
 " We shall be very slow to-day, 
 dear," she said, as they toiled painfully 
 through the streets ; " my feet are 
 sore, and I have pains in all my limbs 
 from the wet of yesterday. I saw 
 that he looked at us and thought of 
 that, when he said how long we should 
 be upon the road." 
 
 "It was a dreary way, lie told 
 us of," returned her grandfather, 
 piteously. "Is there no other road ? 
 Will you not let me go some other 
 way than this ? " 
 
 " Places lie beyond these," said the 
 child, firmly, " where we may live 
 in peace, and be tempted to do no 
 harm. We will take the road that 
 promises to have that end, and we 
 would not turn out of it, if it were a 
 hundred times worse than our fears 
 lead us to expect. We would not, 
 dear, would we ? " 
 
 " No," replied the old man, waver- 
 ing in his voice, no less than in his 
 manner. "No. Let us go on. lam 
 ready. I am quite ready, Nell." 
 
 The child walked with more diffi- 
 culty than she had led her companion 
 to expect, for the pains that racked 
 her joints were of no common severity, 
 and every exertion increased them. 
 But they wrung from her no complaint, 
 or look of suffering ; and, though the 
 two travellers proceeded very slowly, 
 they did proceed. Clearing the town 
 in course of time, they began to feel 
 that they were fairly on their way. 
 
 A long suburb of red brick houses, 
 some with patches of garden-ground, 
 where coal-dust and factory smoke 
 darkened the shrinking leaves, and 
 coarse rank flowers, and where the 
 struggling vegetation sickened and 
 sank under the hot breath of kiln and 
 furnace, making them by its presence 
 seem yet more blighting and unwhole- 
 some than in the town itself, a long, 
 flat, straggling suburb passed, they 
 came, by slow degrees, upon a cheerless 
 region, where not a blade of grass was 
 seen to grow, where not a bud put 
 forth its promise in the spring, where 
 nothing green could live but on the 
 surface of the stagnant pools, which 
 here and there lay idly sweltering by 
 the black road side. 
 
 Advancing more and more into the 
 shadow of this mournful place, its 
 dark depressing influence stole upon
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 their spirits, and filled them with a 
 dismal gloom. On every side, and fat- 
 as the eye could see into the heavy 
 distance, tall chimneys, crowding on 
 each other, and presenting that end- 
 less repetition of the same dull, ugly, 
 form, which is the horror of oppres- 
 sive dreams, poured out their plague 
 of smoke, obscured the light, and 
 made foul the melancholy air. On 
 mounds of ashes by the way side, 
 sheltered only by a few rough boards, 
 or rotten pent-house roofs, strange 
 engines spun and writhed like tor- 
 tured creatures : clanking their iron 
 chains, shrieking in their rapid whirl 
 from time to time as though in torment 
 unendurable, and making the ground 
 tremble with their agonies. Dis- 
 mantled houses here and there ap- 
 peared, tottering to the earth, propped 
 up by fragments of others that had 
 fallen down, unroofed, window-less, 
 blackened, desolate, but yet inhabited. 
 Men, women, children, wan in their 
 looks and ragged in attire, tended the 
 engines, fed their tributary fires, 
 begged upon the road, or scowled half- 
 naked from the doorless houses. Then, 
 came more of the wrathful monsters, 
 whose like they almost seemed to be 
 in their wildness and their untamed 
 air, screeching and turning round and 
 round again ; and still, before, behind, 
 and to the right and left, was the 
 same interminable perspective of brick 
 towers, never ceasing in their black 
 vomit, blasting all things living or in- 
 animate, shutting out the face of day, 
 and closing in on all these horrors with 
 a dense dark cloud. 
 
 But, night-time in this dreadful spot! 
 night, when the smoke was changed 
 to fire ; when every chimney spirted 
 up its flame ; and places, that had 
 been dark vaults all day, now shone 
 red-hot, with figures moving to and 
 fro within their blazing jaws, and 
 calling to one another with hoarse 
 cries night, when the noise of every 
 strange machine was aggravated by 
 the darkness ; when the people near 
 them looked wilder and more savage ; 
 when bands of unemployed labourers 
 paraded the roads, or clustered by 
 
 torch-light round their leaders, who 
 told them, in stern language, of their 
 wrongs, and urged them on to fright- 
 ful cries and threats ; when maddened 
 men, armed with sword and firebrand, 
 spurning the tears and prayers of 
 women who would restrain them, 
 rushed forth on errands of terror and 
 destruction, to work no ruin hn.lf so 
 surely as their own night, when 
 carts came rumbling by, filled with 
 rude coffins (for contagious disease 
 and death had been busy with the 
 living crops) ; when orphans cried, 
 and distracted women " shrieked and 
 followed in their wake night, when 
 some called for bread, and some for 
 drink to drown their cares, and some 
 with tears, and some with staggering 
 feet, and some with bloodshot eyes, 
 went brooding home night, which, 
 unlike the night that Heaven sends on 
 earth, brought with it no peace, nor 
 quiet, nor signs of blessed sleep who 
 shall tell the terrors of the night to 
 the young wandering child! 
 
 And yet she lay down, with nothing 
 between her and the sky; and, with no 
 fear for herself, for she was past it 
 now, put up a prayer for the poor old 
 man. So very weak and spent, she 
 felt, so very calm and unresisting, that 
 she had no thought of any wants of 
 her own, but prayed that God would 
 raise up some friend for him. She 
 tried to recal the way they had come, 
 and to look in the direction where the 
 fire by which they had slept last night 
 was burning. She had forgotten to 
 ask the name of the poor man, their 
 friend, and when she had remembered 
 him in her prayers, it seemed un- 
 grateful not to turn one look towards 
 the spot where he was watching. 
 
 A penny loaf was all they had had 
 that day. It was very little, but even 
 hunger was forgotten in the strange 
 tranquillity that crept over her senses. 
 She lay down, very gently, and, with a 
 quiet smile upon her face, fell into a 
 slumber. It was not like sleep and 
 yet it must have been, or why those 
 pleasant dreams of the little scholar 
 all night long ! 
 
 Morning came. Much weaker,
 
 206 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 diminished powers even of sight and 
 hearing, and yet the child made no 
 complaint perhaps would have made 
 none, even if she had not had that in- 
 ducement to be silent, travelling by her 
 side. She felt a hopelessness of their 
 ever being extricated together from 
 that forlorn place ; a dull conviction 
 that she was very ill, perhaps dying ; 
 but no fear or anxiety. 
 
 A loathing of food that she was not 
 conscious of until they expended their 
 last penny in the purchase of another 
 loaf, prevented her partaking even 
 of this poor repast. Her grandfather 
 ate greedily, which she was glad to 
 see. 
 
 Their way lay through the same 
 scenes as yesterday, with no variety 
 or improvement. There was the same 
 thick air, difficult to breathe ; the 
 same blighted ground, the same hope- 
 less prospect, the same misery and 
 distress. Objects appeared more dim. 
 the noise less, the path more rugged 
 and uneven, for sometimes she stum- 
 bled, and became roused, as it were, 
 in the effort to prevent herself from 
 falling. Poor child ! the cause was in 
 her tottering feet. 
 
 Towards the afternoon, her grand- 
 father complained bitterly of hunger. 
 She approached one of the wretched 
 hovels by the way-side, and knocked 
 with her hand upon the door. 
 
 " What would you have here ? " 
 said a gaunt man, opening it. 
 
 " Charity. A morsel of bread." 
 
 " Do you see that ? " returned the 
 man hoarsely, pointing to a kind of 
 bundle on the ground. " That 's a dead 
 child. I and five hundred other men 
 were thrown out of work, three months 
 ago. That is my third dead child, and 
 last. Do you think I have charity 
 to bestow, or a morsel of bread to 
 spare ? " 
 
 The child recoiled from the door, 
 and it closed upon her. Impelled 
 by strong necessity, she knocked at 
 another : a neighbouring one, which, 
 yielding to the slight pressure of her 
 hand, flew open. 
 
 It seemed that a couple of poor 
 families lived in this hovel, for two 
 
 women, each among children of her 
 own, occupied different portions of the 
 room. In the centre, stood a grave 
 jentleman in black who appeared to 
 have just entered, and who held by 
 the arm a boy. 
 
 " Hve woman," he said, " here 's 
 your deaf and dumb son. You may 
 thank me for restoring him to you. 
 He was brought before me, this morn- 
 ing, charged with theft ; and with any 
 other boy it would have gone hard, I 
 assure you. But, as I had compassion 
 on his infirmities, and thought he 
 might have learnt no better, I have 
 managed to bring him back to you. 
 Take more care of him for the future." 
 " And won't you give me back my 
 son ! " said the other woman, hastily 
 rising and confronting him. " Won't 
 you give me back my son, sir, who was 
 transported for the same offence ! " 
 
 " Was he deaf and dumb, woman ? " 
 asked the gentleman sternly. 
 " Was he not, sir ? " 
 " You know he was not." 
 " He was," cried the woman. " He 
 was deaf, dumb, and blind, to all that 
 was good and right, from his cradle. 
 Her boy may have learnt no better ! 
 where did mine learn better 1 where 
 could he ? who was there, to teach him 
 better, or where was it to be learnt I " 
 " Peace, woman," said the gentle- 
 man, " your boy was in possession of 
 all his senses." 
 
 " He was," cried the mother ; " and 
 he was the more easy to be led astray 
 because he had them. If you save this 
 boy because he may not know right 
 from wrong, why did you not save 
 mine who was never taught the differ- 
 ence ? You gentlemen have as good 
 a right to punish her boy, that God 
 has kept in ignorance of sound and 
 speech, as you have to punish mine, 
 that you kept in ignorance yourselves. 
 How many of the girls and boys ah, 
 men and women too that are brought 
 before you and you don't pity, are 
 deaf and dumb in their minds, and go 
 wrong in that state, and are punished 
 in that state, body and soul, while you 
 gentlemen are quarrelling among your- 
 selves whether they ought to learn this
 
 THE OL,L> CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 207 
 
 or that ? Be a just man, sir, and give humbly asking for relief at some few 
 
 me back my son ! " 
 
 " You are desperate," said the gen- 
 tleman, taking out his snuff-box, " and 
 I am sorry for you. r ~ 
 
 doors, and being repulsed, they agreed 
 to make their way out of it as speedily 
 as they could, and try if the inmates 
 of any lone house beyond, would 
 
 I am desperate," returned the have more pity on their exhausted 
 woman, " and you have made me so. state. 
 
 They were dragging themselves along 
 
 Give me back my son, to work for 
 these helpless children. Be a just man, 
 sir, and, as you have had mercy upon 
 this boy, give me back my son ! " 
 The child had seen and heard enough 
 
 through the last street, and the child 
 felt that the time was close at hand 
 when her enfeebled powers would bear 
 no more. There appeared before them, 
 
 to know that this was not a place at at this juncture, going in the same 
 which to ask for alms. She led the direction as themselves, a traveller on 
 
 old man softly from the door, and they 
 pursued their journey. 
 
 With less and less of hope or 
 strength, as they went on, but with an 
 undiminished resolution not to betray 
 by any word or sign her sinking state, 
 
 foot, who, with a portmanteau strapped 
 to his back, leaned upon a stout stick 
 as he walked, and read from a book 
 which he held in his other hand. - 
 
 It was not an easy matter to come 
 up with him, and beseech his aid, for 
 
 BO long as she had energy to move, the he walked fast, and was a little dis- 
 child, throughout the remainder of that tance in advance. At length, he stopped, 
 
 hard day, compelled herself to proceed: 
 not even stopping to rest as frequently 
 as usual, to compensate in some mea- 
 sure for the tardy pace at which she 
 
 to look more attentively at some pas- 
 sage in his book. Animated with a 
 ray of hope, 'the child shot on before 
 her grandfather, and, going close to 
 
 was obliged to walk. Evening was | the stranger without rousing him by 
 drawing on, but had not closed in, I the sound of her footsteps, began, in a 
 when still travelling among the same | few faint words, to implore his help, 
 dismal objects they came to a busy He turned his head. The child 
 town. 
 
 Faint and spiritless as they were, 
 
 its streets were insupportable. After j his feet. 
 
 clapped her hands together, uttered 
 a wild shriek, and fett senseless at
 
 208 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 IT was the poor schoolmaster. No 
 other than the poor schoolmaster. 
 Scarcely less moved and surprised by 
 the sight of the child than she had been 
 on recognising him, he stood, for a 
 moment, silent and confounded by this 
 unexpected apparition, without even 
 the presence of mind to raise her from 
 the ground. 
 
 But, quickly recovering his self-pos- 
 session, he threw down his stick and 
 book, and dropping on one knee beside 
 her, endeavoured, by such simple means 
 as occurred to hinr, to restore her to 
 herself ; while her grandfather, stand- 
 ing idly by, wrung his hands, and 
 implored her with many endearing 
 expressions to speak to him, were it 
 only a word. 
 
 " She is quite exhausted," said the 
 schoolmaster, glancing upward into his 
 face. " You have taxed her powers 
 too far, friend." 
 
 " She is perishing of want," rejoined 
 the old man. " I never thought how 
 weak and ill she was, till now." 
 
 Casting a look upon him, half-re- 
 proachful and half-compassionate, the 
 schoolmaster took the child in his 
 arms, and, bidding the old man gather 
 up her little basket and follow him 
 directly, bore her away at his utmost 
 speed. 
 
 There was a small inn within sight, 
 to which, it would seem, he had been 
 directing his steps when so unexpect- 
 edly overtaken. Towards this place 
 he hurried with his unconscious burden, 
 and rushing into the kitchen, and call- 
 ing upon the company there assembled 
 to make way for God's sake, deposited 
 it on a chair before the fire. 
 
 The company, who rose in confusion 
 on the schoolmaster's entrance, did 
 as people usually do under such cir- 
 cumstances. Everybody called for his 
 or her favourite remedy, which nobody 
 brought ; each cried for more air, at 
 the same time carefully excluding what 
 air there was, by closing round the 
 object of sympathy ; and all wondered 
 
 why somebody else didn't do, what it 
 never appeared to occur to them might 
 be done by themselves. 
 
 The landlady, however, who pos- 
 sessed more readiness and activity 
 than any of them, and who had withal 
 a quicker perception of the merits of 
 the case, soon came running in, with a 
 little hot brandy and water, followed 
 by her servant-girl, carrying vinegar, 
 hartshorn, smelling-salts, and such 
 other restoratives ; which, being duly 
 administered, recovered the child so 
 far as to enable her to thank them in a 
 faint voice, and to extend her hand to 
 the poor schoolmaster, who stood, with 
 an anxious face, hard by. Without 
 suffering her to speak another word, or 
 so much as to stir a finger any more, 
 the women straightway carried her 
 off to bed ; and, having covered her 
 up warm, bathed her cold feet, and 
 wrapped them in flannel, they de- 
 spatched a messenger for the doctor. 
 
 The doctor, who was a red-nosed 
 gentleman with a great bunch of seals 
 dangling below a waistcoat of ribbed 
 black satin, arrived with all speed, and 
 taking his seat by the bedside of poor 
 Nell, drew out his watch, and felt her 
 pulse. Then he looked at her tongue, 
 then he felt her pulse again, and while 
 he did so, he eyed the half-emptied 
 wine-glass as if in profound abstraction. 
 
 " I should give her " said the 
 doctor at length, " A tea-spoonful, 
 every now and then, of hot brandy and 
 water." 
 
 " Why, that 's exactly what we 've 
 done, sir ! " said the delighted land- 
 lady. 
 
 "I should also," observed the doctor, 
 who had passed the foot-bath on the 
 stairs, " I should also," said the 
 doctor, in the voice of an oracle, " put 
 her feet in hot water, and wrap them 
 up in flannel. I should likewise," 
 said the doctor, with increased solem- 
 nity, "give her something light for 
 supper the wing of a roasted fow 1 
 now "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 209 
 
 " Why goodness gracious me, sir, 
 it's cooking at the kitchen fire this 
 instant ! " cried the landlady. And so 
 indeed it was, for the schoolmaster had 
 ordered it to be put down, and it was 
 getting on so well that the doctor might 
 have smelt it if he had tried perhaps 
 he did. 
 
 "You may then," said the doctor, 
 rising gravely, " give her a glass of hot 
 mulled port wine, if she likes wine " 
 
 *' And a toast, sir ? " suggested the 
 landlady. 
 
 " Ay," said the doctor, in the tone 
 of a man who makes a dignified con- 
 cession. " And a toast of bread. But 
 be very particular to make it of bread, 
 if you please, ma'am." 
 
 With which parting injunction, 
 slowly and portentously delivered, the 
 doctor departed, leaving the whole 
 house in admiration of that wisdom 
 which tallied so closely with their own. 
 Everybody said he was a very shrewd 
 doctor indeed, and knew perfectly 
 what people's constitutions were ; 
 which there appears some reason to 
 suppose he did. 
 
 YVhile her supper was preparing, 
 the child fell into a refreshing sleep, 
 from which they were obliged to rouse 
 her when it was ready. As she 
 evinced extraordinary uneasiness on 
 learning that her grandfather was 
 below stairs, and was greatly troubled 
 at the thought of their being apart, he 
 took his supper with her. Finding 
 her still very restless on this head, 
 they made him up a bed in an inner 
 room, to which he presently retired. 
 The key of this chamber happened by 
 good fortune to be on that side of the 
 door which was in Nell's room ; she 
 turned it on him when the landlady 
 had withdrawn, and crept to bed 
 again with a thankful heart. 
 
 The schoolmaster sat for a long 
 time smoking his pipe by the kitchen 
 fire, which was now deserted, think- 
 ing, with a very happy face, on the 
 fortunate chance which had brought 
 him so opportunely to the child's 
 assistance, and parrying, as well as in 
 his simple way he could, the inquisi- 
 tive cross-examination of the landlady, 
 No. 77. 
 
 who had a great curiosity to be made 
 acquainted with every particular of 
 Nell's life and history. The poor 
 schoolmaster was so open-hearted, 
 and so little versed in the most ordi- 
 nary cunning or deceit, that she could 
 not have failed to succeed in the first 
 five minutes, but that he happened to 
 be unacquainted with what she wished 
 to know ; and so he told her. The 
 landlady, by no means satisfied with 
 this assurance, which she considered 
 an ingenious evasion of the question, 
 rejoined that he had his reasons of 
 course. Heaven forbid that she should 
 wish to pry into the affairs of her 
 customers, which indeed were no busi- 
 ness of hers, who had so many of her 
 own. She had merely asked a civil 
 question, and to be sure she knew it 
 would meet with a civil answer. She 
 was quite satisfied quite. She had 
 rather perhaps that he would have 
 said at once that he didn't choose to 
 be communicative, because that would 
 have been plain and intelligible. How- 
 ever, she had no right to be offended 
 of course. He was the best judge, 
 and had a perfect right to say what he 
 pleased ; nobody could dispute that, 
 for a moment. Oh dear, no! 
 
 " I assure you, my good lady," said 
 the mild schoolmaster, " that I have 
 told you the plain truth as I hope to 
 be saved, I have told you the truth." 
 
 " Why then, I do believe you are 
 in earnest," rejoined the landlady, 
 with ready good-humour, " and I 'm 
 very sorry I have teazed you. But 
 curiosity you know is the curse of our 
 sex, and that : s the fact." 
 
 The landlord scratched his head, as 
 if he thought the curse sometimes 
 involved the other sex likewise; but 
 he was prevented from making any 
 remark to that effect, if he had it in 
 contemplation to do so, by the school- 
 master's rejoinder. 
 
 " You should question me for half-a- 
 dozen hours at a sitting, and welcome, 
 and I would answer you patiently for 
 the kindness of heart you have shown 
 to-night, if I could," he said. " As it 
 is, please to take care of her in the 
 morning, and let me know early how 
 p 14
 
 210 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 she is ; and to understand that I am 
 paymaster for the three." 
 
 So, parting with them on most 
 friendly terms, not the less cordial 
 perhaps for this last direction, the 
 schoolmaster went to his bed, and the 
 host and hostess to theirs. 
 
 The report in the morning was, 
 that the child was better, but was ex- 
 tremely weak, and would at least 
 require a day's rest, and careful nurs- 
 ing, before she could proceed upon 
 her journey. The schoolmaster re- 
 ceived this communication with perfect 
 cheerfulness, observing that he had 
 a day to spare two days for that 
 matter and could very well afford to 
 wait. As the patient was to sit up in 
 the evening, he appointed to visit her 
 in her room at a certain hour, and 
 rambling out with his book, did not 
 return until the hour arrived. 
 
 Nell could not help weeping when 
 they were left alone ; whereat, and at 
 sight of her pale face and wasted 
 figure, the simple schoolmaster shed a 
 few tears himself, at the same time 
 showing in very energetic language 
 how foolish it was to do so, and how 
 very easily it could be avoided, if one 
 tried. 
 
 " It makes me unhappy even in the 
 midst of all this kindness" said the 
 child, " to think that we should be a 
 burden upon you. How can I ever 
 thank you ? If I had not met you so 
 far from home, I must have died, and 
 he would have been left alone." 
 
 " We '11 not talk about dying," said 
 the schoolmaster ; " and as to bur- 
 dens, I have made my fortune since 
 you slept at my cottage." 
 
 " Indeed ! " cried the child joyfully. 
 
 " Oh yes," returned her friend. " I 
 have been appointed clerk and school- 
 master to a village a long way from 
 here and a long way from the old 
 one as you may suppose at five-and- 
 thirty pounds a year. Five-and-thirty 
 pounds!" 
 
 " I am very glad," said the child 
 " so very, very, glad." 
 
 "I am on my way there now," 
 resumed the schoolmaster. " They 
 allowed me the stage-coach-hire out- 
 
 side stage-coach-hire all the way. 
 Bless 'you, they grudge me nothing. 
 But as the time at which I am ex- 
 pected there, left me ample leisure, I 
 determined to walk instead. How 
 ;lad I am, to think I did so ! " 
 " How glad should we be ! " 
 " Yes, yes," said the schoolmaster, 
 moving restlessly in his chair, " cer- 
 tainly, that 's very true. But you 
 where are you going, where are you 
 coming from, what have you been 
 doing since you left me, what had you 
 been doing before 1 Now, tell me 
 do tell me. I know very little of the 
 world, and perhaps you are better 
 fitted to advise me in its affairs than 
 I am qualified to give advice to you ; 
 but I am very, sincere, and I have 
 a reason (you have not forgotten it) 
 for loving you. I have felt since that 
 time as if my love for him who died, 
 had been transferred to you who stood 
 beside his bed. If this," he added, 
 looking upwards, "is the beautiful 
 creation that springs from ashes, let 
 its peace prosper with me, as I deal 
 tenderly and compassionately by this 
 young child!" 
 
 The plain, frank kindness of the 
 honest schoolmaster, the affectionate 
 earnestness of his speech and manner, 
 the truth which was stamped upon his 
 every word and look, gave the child a 
 confidence in him, which the utmost 
 arts of treachery and dissimulation 
 could never have awakened in her 
 breast. She told him all that they 
 had no friend or relative that she 
 had fled with the old man, to save 
 him from a madhouse and all the 
 miseries he dreaded that she was 
 flying now, to save him from himself 
 and that she sought an asylum in 
 some remote and primitive place, 
 where the temptation before which he 
 fell would never enter, and her late sor- 
 rows and distresses could have no place. 
 
 The schoolmaster heard her witli 
 astonishment. " This child ! " he 
 thought " Has this child heroically 
 persevered under all doubts and dan- 
 gers, struggled with poverty and 
 suffering, upheld and sustained by 
 strong affection and the conscious-
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 211 
 
 ness of rectitude alone ! And yet 
 the world is full of such heroism 
 Have I yet to learn that the hardest 
 and best-borne trials are those which 
 are never chronicled in any earthly 
 record, and are suffered every day ' 
 And should I be surprised to hear the 
 story of this child ! " 
 
 What more he thought or said, 
 matters not. It was concluded that 
 Nell and her grandfather should 
 accompany him to the village whither 
 he was bound, and that he should 
 endeavour to find them some humble 
 occupation by which they could sub- 
 sist. " We shall be sure to succeed," 
 said the schoolmaster, heartily. " The 
 cause is too good a one to fail." 
 
 They arranged to proceed upon 
 their journey next evening, as a stage- 
 waggon, which travelled for some dis- 
 tance on the same road as they must 
 take, would stop at the inn to change 
 horses, and the driver for a small 
 gratuity would give Nell a place inside. 
 A bargain was soon struck when the 
 waggon came ; and in due tune it 
 rolled away ; with the child com- 
 fortably bestowed among the softer 
 packages, her grandfather and the 
 schoolmaster walking on beside the 
 driver, and the landlady and all the 
 good folks of the inn screaming out 
 their good wishes and farewells. 
 
 What a soothing, luxurious, drowsy 
 way of travelling, to lie inside that 
 slowly-moving mountain, listening to 
 the tinkling of the horses' bells, the 
 occasional smacking of the carter's 
 whip, the smooth rolling of the 
 great broad wheels, the rattle of the 
 harness, the cheery good-nights of 
 passing travellers jogging past on 
 little short-stepped horses all made 
 pleasantly indistinct by the thick 
 awning, which seemed made for lazy 
 listening under, till one fell asleep ! 
 The very going to sleep, still with an 
 indistinct idea, as the head jogged to 
 and fro upon the pillow, of moving 
 onward with no trouble or fatigue, 
 and hearing all these sounds like 
 dreamy music, lulling to the senses 
 and the slow waking up, and finding 
 one's self staring out through the 
 
 breezy curtain half-opened in the 
 front, far up into the cold bright sky 
 with its countless stars, and downward 
 at the driver's lantern dancing on like 
 its namesake Jack of the swamps and 
 marshes, and sideways at the dark 
 grim trees, and forward at the long 
 bare road rising up, up, up, until it 
 stopped abruptly at a sharp high ridge 
 as if there were no more road, and all 
 beyond was sky and the stopping at 
 the inn to bait, and being helped out, 
 and going into a room with fire and 
 candles, and winking very much, and 
 being agreeably reminded that the 
 night was cold, and anxious for very 
 comfort's sake to think it colder than 
 it was! What a delicious journey was 
 that journey in the waggon. 
 
 Then the going on again so fresh 
 at first, and shortly afterwards so 
 sleepy. The waking from a sound 
 nap as the mail came dashing past 
 like a highway comet, with gleaming 
 lamps and rattling hoofs, and visions 
 of a guard behind, standing up to keep 
 his feet warm, and of a gentleman in 
 a fur cap opening his eyes and looking 
 wild and stupefied the stopping at 
 the turnpike where the man was gone 
 to bed, and knocking at the door until 
 he answered with a smothered shout 
 from under the bed-clothes in the 
 little room above, where the faint 
 light was burning, and presently came 
 down, night-capped and shivering, to 
 throw the gate wide open, and wish all 
 waggons off the road except by day. 
 The cold sharp interval between night 
 and morning the distant streak of 
 light widening and spreading, and 
 turning from grey to white, and from 
 white to yellow, and from yellow to 
 burning red the presence of day, 
 with all its cheerfulness and life men 
 and horses at the plough birds in the 
 trees and hedges, and boys in solitary 
 fields, frightening them away with 
 rattles. The coming to a town 
 people busy in the market; light carts 
 and chaises round the tavern yard ; 
 tradesmen standing at their doors ; 
 men running hoi-ses up and down the 
 street for sale ; pigs plunging and 
 grunting in the dirty distance, getting
 
 212 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 off with long strings at their legs, 
 running into clean chemists' shops 
 and being dislodged with brooms by 
 'prentices ; the night coach changing 
 horses the passengers cheerless, cold, 
 ugly, and discontented, with three 
 months' growth of hair in one night 
 the coachman fresh as from a band- 
 box, and exquisitely beautiful by con- 
 trast : so much bustle, so many 
 things [in motion, such a variety of 
 incidents when was there a journey 
 with so many delights as that journey 
 in the waggon! 
 
 Sometimes walking for a mile or 
 two while her grandfather rode inside, 
 and sometimes even prevailing upon 
 the schoolmaster to take her place and 
 lie down to rest, Nell travelled on 
 very happily until they came to a large 
 town, where the waggon stopped, and 
 where they spent a night. They 
 passed a large church ; and in the 
 streets were a number of old houses, 
 built of a kind of earth or plaster, 
 crossed and re-crossed in a great 
 many directions with black beams, 
 which gave them a remarkable and 
 very ancient look. The doors, too, 
 were arched and low, some with oaken 
 portals and quaint benches, where the 
 former inhabitants had sat on summer 
 evenings. The windows were latticed 
 in little diamond panes, that seemed 
 to wink and blink upon the passengers 
 as if they were dim of sight. They 
 had long since got clear of the smoke 
 and furnaces, except in one or two 
 solitary instances, where a factory 
 planted among fields withered the 
 space about it, like a burning moun- 
 tain. When they had passed through 
 this town, they entered again upon the 
 country, and began to draw near their 
 place of destination. 
 
 It was not so near, however, but 
 that they spent another night upon 
 ' the road ; not that their doing so was 
 quite an act of necessity, but that the 
 schoolmaster, when they approached 
 within a few miles of his village, had a 
 fidgetty sense of his dignity as the new 
 clerk, and was unwilling to make his 
 entry in dusty shoes, and travel-dis- 
 ordered dress. It was a fine, clear, 
 
 autumn morning, when they carac 
 upon the scene of his promotion, ami 
 stopped to contemplate its beauties. 
 
 " See here's the church ! " cried 
 the delighted schoolmaster, in a low 
 voice ; "and that old building close 
 beside it, is the school-house, I'll be 
 sworn. Five and thirty pounds a-year 
 in this beautiful place! " 
 
 They admired everything the old 
 grey porch, the mullioned windows, 
 the venerable gravestones dotting the 
 green churchyard, the ancient tower, 
 the very weathercock ; the brown 
 thatched roofs of cottage, barn, and 
 homestead, peeping from among the 
 trees; the stream that rippled by the 
 distant watermill; the blue Welsh 
 mountains far away. It was for such 
 a spot the child had wearied in the 
 dense, dark, miserable haunts of 
 labour. Upon her bed of ashes, and 
 amidst the squalid horrors through 
 which they had forced their way, 
 visions of such scenes beautiful in- 
 deed, but not more beautiful than this 
 sweet reality had been always pre- 
 sent to her mind. They had seemed 
 to melt into a dim and airy distance, 
 as the prospect of ever beholding them 
 again grew fainter ; but, as they re- 
 ceded, she had loved and panted for 
 them more. 
 
 " I must leave you somewhere for a 
 few minutes," said the schoolmaster, 
 at length breaking the silence" into 
 which they had fallen in their gladr 
 ness. " 1 have a letter to present, and 
 inquiries to make, you know. Where 
 shall I take you 1 To the little inn 
 yonder ? " 
 
 " Let us wait here," rejoined Nell. 
 " The gate is open. We will sit in the 
 church porch till you come back." 
 
 " A good place too," said the school- 
 master, leading the way towards it, 
 disencumbering himself of his port- 
 manteau, and placing it on the stone 
 seat. " Be sure that I come back with 
 good news, and am not long gone !" 
 
 So, the happy schoolmaster put on a 
 bran-new pair of gloves which he had 
 carried in a little parcel in his pocket 
 all the way, and hurried off, full of 
 ardour and excitement.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 213 
 
 The child watched him from the 
 porch until the intervening foliage hid 
 him from her view, and then stepped 
 softly out into the old church-yard 
 so solemn and quiet that every rustle 
 of her dress upon the fallen leaves, 
 which strewed the path and made her 
 footsteps noiseless, seemed an invasion 
 of its silence. It was a very aged, 
 ghostly place ; the church had been 
 built many hundreds of years ago, 
 and had once had a convent or monas- 
 tery attached ; for arches in ruins, 
 remains of oriel windows, and frag- 
 ments of blackened walls, were yet 
 standing ; while other portions of the 
 old building, which had crumbled away 
 and fallen down, were mingled with 
 the church-yard earth and over-grown 
 with grass, as if they too claimed a 
 burying-place and sought to mix their 
 ashes with the dust of men. Hard by 
 
 these gravestones of dead years, and 
 forming a part of the ruin which some 
 pains had been taken to render habit- 
 able in modern times, were two small 
 dwellings with sunken windows and 
 oaken doors, fast hastening to decay, 
 I empty and desolate. 
 
 Upon these tenements, the atten- 
 ! tion of the child became exclusively 
 i rivetted. She knew not why. The 
 i church, the ruin, the antiquated graves, 
 j had equal claims at least upon a 
 ! stranger's thoughts, but from the 
 moment when her eyes first rested on 
 these two dwellings, she could turn to 
 nothing else. Even when she had 
 made the circuit of the inclosure, and, 
 returning to the porch, sat pensively 
 waiting for their friend, she took her 
 station where she could still look upon 
 them, and felt as if fascinated towards 
 that spot. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 KIT'S mother and the single gentle- 
 man upon whose track it is expedient 
 to follow with hurried steps, lest this 
 history should be chargeable with 
 inconstancy, and the offence of leaving 
 its characters in situations of uncer- 
 tainty and doubt Kit's mother and 
 the single gentleman, speeding onward 
 in the post-chaise-and-four whose de- 
 parture from the Notary's door we 
 have already witnessed, soon left the 
 town behind them, and struck fire 
 from the flints of the broad highway. 
 
 The good woman, being not a little 
 embarrassed by the novelty of her 
 situation, and certain maternal appre- 
 hensions that perhaps by this time 
 little Jacob, or the baby, or both, had 
 fallen into the fire, or tumbled down 
 stairs, or had been squeezed behind 
 doors, or had scalded their windpipes 
 in endeavouring to allay their thirst 
 at the spouts of tea-kettles, preserved 
 an uneasy silence ; and meeting from 
 ihe window the eyes of turnpike-men, 
 
 I omnibus-drivers, and others, felt in 
 i the new dignity of her position like a 
 ' mourner at a funeral, who, not being 
 greatly afflicted by the loss of the 
 departed, recognizes his every-day 
 acquaintance from the window of the 
 mourning coach, but is constrained to 
 preserve a decent solemnity, and the 
 appearance of being indifferent to all 
 external objects. 
 
 To have been indifferent to the 
 companionship of the single gentleman 
 would have been tantamount to being 
 gifted with nerves of steel. Never did 
 chaise inclose, or horses draw, such a, 
 restless gentleman as he. He never 
 sat in the same position for two 
 minutes together, but was perpetually 
 tossing his arms and legs about, pull- 
 ing up the sashes and letting them 
 violently down, or thrusting his head 
 out of one window to draw it in again 
 and thrust it out of another. He 
 carried in his pocket, too, a fire-box of 
 mysterious and unknown construction ;
 
 214 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 and as sure as ever Kit's mother 
 closed her eyes, so surely whisk, 
 rattle, fizz there was the single gen- 
 tleman consulting his watch by a flame 
 of fire, and letting the sparks fall 
 down among the straw as if there 
 were no such thing as a possibility of 
 himself and Kit's mother being roasted 
 alive before the boys could stop then? 
 horses. Whenever they halted to 
 change, there he was out of the car- 
 riage without letting down the steps, 
 bursting about the inn-yard like a 
 lighted cracker, pulling out his watch 
 by lamplight and forgetting to look at 
 it before he put it up again, and in 
 short committing so many extrava- 
 gancies that Kit's mother was quite 
 afraid of him. Then, when the horses 
 were to, in he came like a Harlequin, 
 and before they had gone a mile, out 
 came the watch and the fire-box 
 together, and Kit's mother was wide 
 awake again, with no hope of a wink 
 of sleep for that stage. 
 
 " Are you comfortable ? " the single 
 gentleman would say after one of these 
 exploits, turning sharply round. 
 " Quite, sir, thank you." 
 " Are you sure ? An't you cold ? " 
 "It is a little chilly, sir," Kit's 
 mother would reply. 
 
 " I knew it ! " cried the single gen- 
 tleman, letting down one of the front 
 glasses. "She wants some brandy 
 and water ! Of course she does. How 
 could I forget it ? Hallo ! Stop at 
 the next inn, and call out for a glass 
 of hot brandy and water." 
 
 It was in vain for Kit's mother to 
 protest that she stood in need of 
 nothing of the kind. The single gen- 
 tleman was inexorable ; and whenever 
 he had exhausted all other modes and 
 fashions of restlessness, it invariably 
 occurred to him that Kit's mother 
 wanted brandy and water. 
 
 In this way they travelled on until 
 near midnight, when they stopped to 
 upper, for which meal the single gen- 
 tleman ordered everything eatable that 
 the house contained ; and because 
 Kit's mother didn't eat everything at 
 once, and eat it all, he took it into his 
 head that she must be ill. 
 
 " You 're faint," said the single gen- 
 tleman, who did nothing himself but 
 walk about the room. " I see what 's 
 the matter with you, ma'am. You 're 
 faint." 
 
 " Thank you, sir, I 'm not indeed." 
 
 " I know you are. I 'm sure of it. 
 I drag this poor woman from the 
 bosom of her family at a minute's 
 notice, and she goea on getting fainter 
 and fainter before my eyes. I 'm a 
 pretty fellow ! How many children 
 have you got, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Two sir, besides Kit." 
 
 " Boys, ma'am 1 " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Are they christened ? " 
 
 " Only half baptised as yet, sir." 
 
 " I 'in godfather to both of 'em. 
 Remember that, if you please, ma'ant. 
 You had better have some mulled 
 wine." 
 
 " I couldn't touch a drop indeed; 
 sir." 
 
 " You must," said the single gentle- 
 man. "I see you want it. I ought 
 to have thought of it before." 
 
 Immediately flying to the bell, and 
 calling for mulled wine as impetuously 
 as if it had been wanted for instant 
 use in the recovery of some person 
 apparently drowned, the single gentle- 
 man made Kit's mother swallow a 
 bumper of it at such a high tempera- 
 ture that the tears ran down her face, 
 and then hustled her off to the chaise 
 again, where not impossibly from the 
 effects of this agreeable sedative she 
 soon became insensible to his restless- 
 ness, and fell fast asleep. Nor were 
 the happy effects of this prescription 
 of a transitory nature, as, notwith- 
 standing that the distance was greater, 
 and the journey longer, than the single 
 gentleman had anticipated, she did not 
 awake until it was broad day, and 
 they were clattering over the pavement 
 of a town. 
 
 " This is the place ! " cried her 
 companion, letting down all the glasses. 
 " Drive to the wax-work ! " 
 
 The boy on the wheeler touched hie 
 hat, and setting spurs to his horse, to 
 the end that they might go in bril- 
 liantly, all four broke into a smart
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 215 
 
 canter, and dashed through the streets 
 with a noise that brought the good 
 folks wondering to their doors and 
 windows, and drowned the sober 
 voices of the town-clocks as they 
 chimed out half-past eight. They 
 drove up to a door round which a 
 crowd of persons we're collected, and 
 there stopped. 
 
 "What's thisl" said the single 
 gentleman thrusting out his head. " Is 
 anything the matter here ? " 
 
 " A wedding sir, a wedding ! " cried 
 several voices. " Hurrah ! " 
 
 The single gentleman, rather bewil- 
 dered by finding himself the centre of 
 this noisy throng, alighted with the 
 assistance of one of the postilions, and 
 handed out Kit's mother, at sight of 
 whom the populace cried out, " Here 's 
 another wedding ! " and roared and 
 leaped for joy. 
 
 " The world has gone mad, I think," 
 said the single gentleman, pressing 
 through the concourse with his sup- 
 posed bride. " Stand back here, will 
 you, and let me knock." 
 
 Anything that makes a noise is 
 satisfactory to a crowd. A score of 
 dirty hands were raised directly to 
 knock for him, and seldom has a 
 knocker of equal powers been made to 
 produce more deafening sounds than 
 this particular engine on the occasion 
 in question. Having rendered these 
 voluntary services, the throng mo- 
 destly retired a little, preferring that 
 the single gentleman should bear their 
 consequences alone. 
 
 " Now, sir, what do you want ? " said 
 a man with a large white bow at his 
 button-hole, opening the door, and con- 
 fronting him with a very stoical aspect. 
 
 " Who has been married here, my 
 friend ? " said the single gentleman. 
 
 I have." 
 
 You ! and to whom in the devil's 
 name ? " 
 
 " What right have you to ask ? " 
 returned the bridegroom, eyeing him 
 from top to toe. 
 
 " What right ! " cried the single 
 gentleman, drawing the arm of Kit's 
 mother more tightly through his own, 
 for that good woman evidently had it 
 
 in contemplation to run away. " A 
 right you little dream of. Mind, good 
 people, if this fellow has been marrying 
 a minor tut, tut, that can't be. 
 Where is the child you have here, my 
 good fellow. You call her Nell. Where 
 is she ? " 
 
 As he propounded this question, 
 which Kit's mother echoed, somebody 
 in a room near at hand, uttered a great 
 shriek, and a stout lady in a white 
 dress came running to the door, and 
 supported herself upon the bride- 
 groom's arm. 
 
 " Where is she ! " cried this lady. 
 " What news have you brought me 1 
 What has become of her 1 " 
 
 The single gentleman started back, 
 and gazed upon the face of the late 
 Mrs. Jarley (that morning wedded to 
 the philosophic George, to the eternal 
 wrath and despair of Mr. Slum the 
 poet), with looks of conflicting appre- 
 hension, disappointment, and incredu- 
 lity. At length he stammered out, 
 
 " I ask you where she is ? What do 
 you mean ? " 
 
 " Oh sir ! " cried the bride, " If you 
 have come here to do her any good, 
 why weren't you here a week ago ? " 
 
 " She is not not dead ? " said the 
 person to whom she addressed herself, 
 turning very pale. 
 
 " No, not so bad as that." 
 
 "I thank God," cried the single 
 gentleman feebly. " Let me come in." 
 
 They drew back to admit him, and 
 when he had entered, closed the door. 
 
 " You see in me, good people," he 
 said, turning to the newly-married 
 couple, " one to whom life itself is not 
 dearer than the two persons whom I 
 seek. They would not know me. My 
 features are strange to them, but if 
 they or either of them are here, take 
 this good woman with you, and let 
 them see her first, for her they both 
 know. If you deny them from any 
 mistaken regard or fear for them, 
 judge of my intentions by their recog- 
 nition of this person as their old humble 
 friend." 
 
 " I always said it ! " cried the bride, 
 " I knew she was not a common child ! 
 Alas, sir ! we have no power to help
 
 216 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 you, for all that we could do, has been 
 tried in vain." 
 
 With that, they related to him, with- 
 out disguise or concealment, all that 
 they knew of Nell and her grandfather, 
 from their first meeting with them, 
 down to the time of their sudden dis- 
 appearance ; adding (which was quite 
 true) that they had made every possi- 
 ble . effort to trace them, but without 
 success ; having been at first in great 
 alarm for their safety, as well as on 
 account of the suspicions to which they 
 themselves might one day be exposed 
 in consequence of their abrupt depar- 
 ture. They dwelt upon the old man's 
 imbecility of mind, upon the uneasi- 
 ness the child had always testified when 
 he was absent, uponthe company he had 
 been supposed to keep, and upon the 
 increased depression which had gra- 
 dually crept over her and changed her 
 both in health and spirits. Whether 
 she had missed the old man in the 
 night, and, knowing or conjecturing 
 whither he had bent his steps, had 
 gone in pursuit, or whether they had 
 left the house together, they had no 
 means of determining. Certain they 
 considered it, that there was but slender 
 prospect left of hearing of them again, 
 and that whether their flight originated 
 with the old man, or with the child, 
 there was now no hope of their return. 
 
 To all this, the single gentleman 
 listened with the air of a man quite 
 borne down by grief and disappoint- 
 ment. He shed tears when they spoke 
 of the grandfather, and appeared in 
 deep affliction. 
 
 Not to protract this portion of our 
 narrative, and to make short work of a 
 long story, let it be briefly written that 
 
 before the interview came to a close, 
 the single gentleman deemed he had 
 sufficient evidence of having been told 
 the truth, and that he endeavoured to 
 force upon the bride and bridegroom 
 an acknowledgment of their kindness 
 to the unfriended child, which, how- 
 ever, they steadily declined accepting. 
 In the end, the happy couple jolted 
 away in the caravan to spend their 
 honeymoon in a country excursion ; 
 and the single gentleman and Kit's 
 mother stood ruefully before their 
 carriage-door. 
 
 " Where shall we drive you, sir \ " 
 said the post-boy. 
 
 " You may drive me," said the 
 single gentleman, "to the " He was 
 not going to add " inn," but he added it 
 for the sake of Kit's mother ; and to 
 the inn they went. 
 
 Rumours had already got abroad 
 that the little girl who used to show 
 the wax-work, was the child of great 
 people who had been stolen from her 
 parents in infancy, and had only just 
 been traced. Opinion was divided 
 whether she was the daughter of a 
 prince, a duke, an earl, a viscount, or 
 a baron, but all agreed upon the main 
 fact, and that the single gentleman was 
 her father ; and all bent forward to 
 catch a glimpse, though it were only of 
 the tip of his noble nose, as he rode 
 away, desponding, in his four-horse 
 chaise. 
 
 What would he have given to know, 
 and what sorrow would have been 
 saved if he had only known, that at 
 that moment both child and grand- 
 father were seated in the old church 
 porch, patiently awaiting the school- 
 master's return !
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 217 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 POPULAR rumour concerning the 
 single gentleman and his errand, tra- 
 velling from mouth to mouth, and 
 waxing stronger in the marvellous as 
 it was bandied about for your popu- 
 lar rumour, unlike the rolling stone of 
 the proverb, is one which gathers a 
 deal of moss in its wanderings up and 
 down, occasioned his dismounting at 
 the inn-door to be looked upon as an 
 exciting and attractive spectacle, which 
 could scarcely be enough admired ; 
 and drew together a large concourse 
 of idlers, who having recently been, as 
 it were, thrown out of employment by 
 the closing of the wax-work and the 
 completion of the nuptial ceremonies, 
 considered his arrival as little else 
 than a special providence, and hailed 
 it with demonstrations of the live- 
 liest joy. 
 
 Not at all participating in the general 
 sensation, but wearing the depressed 
 and wearied look of one who sought 
 to meditate on his disappointment in 
 silence and privacy, the single gentle- 
 man alighted, and handed out Kit's 
 mother with a gloomy politeness which 
 impressed the lookers-on extremely. 
 That done, he gave her his arm and 
 escorted her into the house, while 
 several active waiters ran on before as 
 a skirmishing party, to clear the way 
 and to show the room which was ready 
 for their reception. 
 
 " Any room will do," said the single 
 gentleman. " Let it be near at hand, 
 that 's all." 
 
 " Close here, sir, if you please to 
 walk this way." 
 
 " Would the gentleman like this 
 room I " said a voice, as a little out-of- 
 the-way door at the foot of the well 
 staircase flew briskly open and a head 
 popped out " He 's quite welcome to 
 it. He 's as welcome as flowers in 
 May, or coals at Christmas. Would \ 
 you like this room, sir ? Honour me 
 by walking in. Do me the favour, 
 pray." 
 
 " Goodness gracious me ! " cried 
 
 Kit's mother, falling back in extreme 
 surprise, " only think of this ! " 
 
 She had some reason to be asto- 
 nished, for the person who proffered 
 the gracious invitation was no other 
 than Daniel Quilp. The little door out 
 of which he had thrust his head was 
 close to the inn larder ; and there he 
 stood, bowing with grotesque polite- 
 ness ; as much at his ease as if the 
 door were that of his own house ; 
 blighting all the legs of mutton and 
 cold roast fowls by his close com- 
 panionship, and looking like the evil 
 genius of the cellars come from under- 
 ground upon some work of mischief. 
 
 " Would you do me the honour ? " 
 said Quilp. 
 
 " I prefer being alone," replied the 
 single gentleman. 
 
 Oh ! " said Quilp. And with that, 
 he darted in again with one jerk and 
 clapped the little door to, like a figure 
 in a Dutch clock when the hour 
 strikes. 
 
 " Why it was only last night, sir," 
 whispered Kit's mother, " that I left 
 him in Little Bethel." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said her fellow-passen- 
 ger. " When did that person come 
 here, waiter ? " 
 
 "Come down by the night-coach, 
 this morning, sir." 
 
 " Humph ! And when is he going ! " 
 
 " Can't say, sir, really. When the 
 chambermaid asked him just now if 
 he should want a bed, sir, he first made 
 faces at her, and then wanted to kiss 
 her." 
 
 " Beg him to walk this way," said 
 the single gentleman. "I should be 
 
 d to exchange a word with him, 
 tell him. Beg him to come at once, do 
 you hear I " 
 
 The man stared on receiving these 
 instructions, for the single gentleman 
 had not only displayed as much asto- 
 nishment as Kit's mother at sight of 
 the dwarf, but, standing in no fear 
 of him, had been at less pains to con- 
 ceal his dislike and repugnance. He
 
 218 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 departed on his errand, however, and 
 immediately returned, ushering in its 
 object. 
 
 " Your servant, sir," said the dwarf. 
 " I encountered your messenger half- 
 way. I thought you 'd allow me to 
 pay my compliments to you. I hope 
 you're well. I hope you're very 
 well." 
 
 There was a short pause, while the 
 dwarf, with half-shut eyes and puck- 
 ered face, stood waiting for an answer. 
 Receiving none, he turned towards his 
 more familiar acquaintance. 
 
 " Christopher's mother ! " he cried. 
 " Such a dear lady, such a worthy 
 woman, so blest in her honest son ! 
 How is Christopher's mother ? Have 
 change of air and scene improved her I 
 Her little family too, and Christopher ? 
 Do they thrive ? Do they flourish ? 
 Are they growing into worthy citizens, 
 eh?" 
 
 Making his voice ascend in the 
 scale with every succeeding question, 
 Mr. Quilp finished in a shrill squeak, 
 and subsided into the panting look 
 which was customary with him, and 
 which, whether it were assumed or 
 natural, had equally the effect of 
 banishing all expression from his face, 
 and rendering it, as far as it afforded 
 any index to his mood or meaning, a 
 perfect blank. 
 
 " Mr. Quilp," said the single gentle- 
 man. 
 
 The dwarf put his hand to his great 
 flapped ear, and counterfeited the 
 closest attention. 
 
 " We two have met before " 
 
 " Surely," cried Quilp, nodding his 
 head. " Oh surely, sir. Such an 
 honour and pleasure it 's both, Chris- 
 topher's mother, it's both is not to 
 be forgotten so soon. By no means ! " 
 
 " You may remember that the day 
 I arrived in London, and found the 
 house to which I drove, empty and 
 deserted, I was directed by some of 
 the neighbours to you, and waited upon 
 you without stopping for rest or re- 
 freshment 1 " 
 
 " How precipitate that was, and yet 
 what an earnest and vigorous mea- 
 sure ! " said Quilp, conferring with 
 
 himself, in imitation of his friend Mr. 
 Sampson Brass. 
 
 "I found," said the single gentle- 
 man, " you most unaccountably, in 
 possession of everything that had so 
 recently belonged to another man, and 
 that other man, who up to the time of 
 your entering upon his property had 
 been looked upon -as affluent, reduced 
 to sudden beggary, and driven from 
 house and home." 
 
 " We had warrant for what we did, 
 my good sir," rejoined Quilp, " we had 
 our warrant. Don't say driven either. 
 He went of his own accord vanished 
 in the night, sir." 
 
 " No matter," said the single gentle- 
 man angrily. " He was gone." 
 
 " Yes, he was gone," said Quilp, 
 with the same exasperating composure. 
 " No doubt he was gone. The only 
 question' was, where. And it 's a ques- 
 tion still." 
 
 " Now, what am I to think," said 
 the single gentleman, sternly regard- 
 ing him, " of you, who, plainly indis- 
 posed to give me any information then 
 nay, obviously holding back, and 
 sheltering yourself with all kinds of 
 cunning, trickery, and evasion, are 
 dogging my footsteps now ? " 
 
 " I dogging ! " cried Quilp. 
 
 " Why, are you not ? " returned his 
 questioner, fretted into a state of tb.6 
 utmost irritation. " Were you not a 
 few hours since, sixty miles off, and in 
 the chapel to which this good woman 
 goes to say her prayers ? " 
 
 " She was there too, I think 1 " said 
 Quilp, still perfectly unmoved. " I 
 might say, if I was inclined to be rude, 
 how do I know but you are dogging 
 my footsteps. Yes, I was at chapel. 
 What then ? I 've read in books that 
 pilgrims were used to go to chapel 
 before they went on journeys, to put 
 up petitions for their safe return. 
 Wise men ! journeys are very perilous 
 especially outside the coach. Wheels 
 come off, horses take fright, coachmen 
 drive too fast, coaches overturn. I 
 always go to chapel before I start on 
 journeys. It's the last thing I do on 
 such occasions, indeed." 
 
 That Quilp lied most heartily in this
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 219 
 
 speech, it needed no very great pene- 
 tration to discover, although for any- 
 thing that he suffered to appear hi his 
 face, voice, or manner, he might have 
 been clinging to the truth with the 
 quiet constancy of a martyr. 
 
 "In the name of all that's calcu- 
 lated to drive one crazy, man," said 
 the unfortunate single gentleman, 
 " have you not, for some reason of 
 your own, taken upon yourself my 
 errand ? don't you know with what ob- 
 ject I have come here, and if you do 
 know, can you throw no light upon it 1 " 
 
 " You think I 'm a conjuror, sir," 
 replied Quilp, shrugging up his shoul- 
 ders. " If I was, I should tell my 
 own fortune and make it." 
 
 " Ah ! we have said all we need 
 say, I see," returned the other, throw- 
 ing himself impatiently upon a sofa. 
 " Pray leave us, if you please." 
 
 " Willingly," returned Quilp. Most 
 willingly. Christopher's mother, my 
 good soul, farewell. A pleasant jour- 
 ney back, sir. Ahem ! " 
 
 With these parting words, and with 
 a grin upon his features altogether 
 indescribable, but which seemed to be 
 compounded of every monstrous grim- 
 ace of which men or monkeys are 
 capable, the dwarf slowly retreated 
 and closed the door behind him. 
 
 " Oho ! " he said when he had re- 
 gained his own room, and sat himself 
 down in a chair with his arms akimbo. 
 " Oho ! Are you there, my friend 1 
 In-deed ! " 
 
 Chuckling as though hi very great 
 glee, and recompensing himself for the 
 restraint he had lately put upon his 
 countenance by twisting it into all 
 imaginable varieties of ugliness, Mr. 
 Quilp, rocking himself to and fro in 
 his chair and nursing his left leg at the 
 same time, fell into certain medita- 
 tions, of which it may be necessary to 
 relate the substance. 
 
 First, he reviewed the circumstances 
 which had led to his repairing +o that 
 spot, which were briefly these. Drop- 
 ping in at Mr. Sampson Brass's office 
 on the previous evening, in the absence 
 of that gentleman and his learned 
 sister, he had lighted upon Mr. Swi- 
 
 veller, who chanced at the moment to 
 be sprinkling a glass of warm gin and 
 water on the dust of the law, and to be 
 moistening his clay, as the phrase 
 goes, rather copiously. But as clay in 
 the abstract, when too much moist- 
 ened, becomes of a weak and uncertain 
 consistency, breaking down in unex- 
 pected places, retaining impressions 
 but family, and preserving no strength 
 or steadiness of character, so Mr. 
 Swiveller's clay, having imbibed a con- 
 siderable quantity of moisture, was in 
 a very loose and slippery state, inso- 
 much that the various ideas impressed 
 upon it were fast losing then- distinc- 
 tive character, and running into each 
 other. It is not uncommon for human 
 clay hi this condition to value itself 
 above all things upon its great pru- 
 dence and sagacity ; and Mr. Swiveller, 
 especially prizing himself upon these 
 qualities, took occasion to remark that 
 he had made strange discoveries hi 
 connection with the single gentleman 
 who lodged above, which he had deter- 
 mined to keep within his own bosom, 
 and which neither tortures nor cajo- 
 lery should ever induce him to reveal. 
 Of this determination Mr. Quilp ex- 
 pressed his high approval, and setting 
 himself in the same breath to goad 
 Mr. Swiveller on to further hints, soon 
 made out that the single gentleman 
 had been seen hi communication with 
 Kit, and that this was the secret which 
 was never to be disclosed. 
 
 Possessed of this piece of informa- 
 tion, Mr. Quilp directly supposed that 
 the single gentleman above stairs must 
 be the same individual who had waited 
 on him, and having assured himself 
 by further inquiries that this surmise 
 was correct, had no difficulty in arriv- 
 ing at the conclusion that the intent 
 and object of his correspondence with 
 Kit was the recovery of his old client 
 and the child. Burning with curiosity 
 to know what proceedings were afoot, 
 he resolved to pounce upon Kit's 
 mother as the person least able to 
 resist his arts, and consequently the 
 most likely to be entrapped into such 
 revelations as he sought ; so taking 
 an abrupt leave of Mr. Swiveller, he
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 hurried to her house. The good woman 
 being from home, he made inquiries 
 of a neighbour, as Kit himself did soon 
 afterwards, and being directed to the 
 chapel betook himself there, in order 
 to waylay her, at the conclusion of the 
 service. 
 
 He had not sat in the chapel more 
 than a quarter of an hour, and with 
 his eyes piously fixed upon the ceiling 
 was chuckling inwardly over the joke 
 of his being there at all, when Kit 
 himself appeared. Watchful as a 
 lynx, one glance showed the dwarf 
 that he had come on business. Ab- 
 sorbed in appearance, as we have seen, 
 and feigning a profound abstraction, 
 he noted every circumstance of his 
 behaviour, and when he withdrew with 
 his family, shot out after him. In 
 fine, he traced them to the notary's 
 house ; learnt the destination of the 
 carriage from one of the postilions ; 
 and knowing that a fast night- coach 
 started for the same place, at the very 
 hour which was on the point of strik- 
 ing, from a street hard by, darted 
 round to the coach-office without more 
 ado, and took his seat upon the roof. 
 After passing and repassing the car- 
 riage on the road, and being passed 
 and repassed by it sundry times in the 
 course of the night, according as their 
 stoppages were longer or shorter, or 
 their rate of travelling varied, they 
 reached the town almost together. 
 Q,uilp kept the chaise in sight, mingled 
 with the crowd, learnt the single gen- 
 tleman's errand,and its failure, and hav- 
 ing possessed himself of all that it was 
 material to know, hurried off, reached 
 "the inn before him, had the interview 
 just now detailed, and shut himself up 
 in the little room in which he hastily 
 reviewed all these occurrences. 
 
 " You are there, are you, my 
 friend 1" he repeated, greedily biting 
 his nails. " I am suspected and thrown 
 aside, and Kit 's the confidential agent, 
 is he ? I shall have to dispose of him, 
 I fear. If we had come up with them 
 this morning," he continued, after a 
 thoughtful pause, "I was ready to 
 prove a pretty good claim. I could 
 have made my profit. But for these 
 
 canting hypocrites, the lad and his 
 mother, I could get this fiery gentle- 
 man as comfortable into my net as our 
 old friend our mutual friend, ha ! 
 ha ! and chubby, rosy Nell. At the 
 worst, it's a golden opportunity, not 
 to be lost. Let us find them first, and 
 I '11 find means of draining you of some 
 of your superfluous cash, sir, while 
 there are prison bars, and bolts, and 
 locks, to keep your friend or kinsman 
 safely. I hate your virtuous people ! " 
 said the dwarf, throwing off a bumper 
 of brandy, and smacking his lips, " ah ! 
 I hate 'em every one ! " 
 
 This was not a mere empty vaunt, 
 but a deliberate avowal of his real 
 sentiments ; for Mr. Q,uilp, who loved 
 nobody, had by little and little come 
 to hate everybody, nearly or remotely 
 connected with his ruined client : 
 the old man himself, because he had 
 been able to deceive him and elude his 
 vigilance the child, because she was 
 the object of Mrs. Quilp's commisera- 
 tion and constant self-reproach the 
 single gentleman, because of his un- 
 concealed aversion to himself Kit 
 and his mother, most mortally, for the 
 reasons already shown. Above and 
 beyond that general feeling of opposi- 
 tion to them, which would have been 
 inseparable from his ravenous desire 
 to enrich himself by these altered cir- 
 cumstances, Daniel Quilp hated them 
 every one. 
 
 In this amiable mood, Mr. Quilp 
 enlivened himself and his hatreds with 
 more brandy, and then, changing his 
 quarters, withdrew to an obscure ale- 
 house, under cover of which seclusion 
 he instituted all possible inquiries that 
 might lead to the discovery of the old 
 man and his grandchild. But all was 
 in vain. Not the slightest trace or 
 clue could be obtained. They had 
 left the town by night ; no one had seen 
 them go ; no one had met them on the 
 road ; the driver of no coach, cart, or 
 waggon, had seen any travellers answer- 
 ingtheir description ; nobody had fallen 
 in with them, or heard of them. Con- 
 vinced at last that for the present all 
 such attempts were hopeless, he ap- 
 pointed two or three scouts, with
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 221 
 
 promises oflarge rewards in case of their 
 forwarding him any intelligence, and 
 returned to London by next day's coach. 
 
 It was some gratification to Mr. 
 Quilp to find, as he took his place 
 upon the roof, that Kit's mother was 
 alone inside ; from which circumstance 
 he derived in the course of the journey 
 much cheerfulness of spirit, inasmuch 
 as her solitary condition enabled him 
 to terrify her with many extraordinary 
 annoyances ; such as hanging over the 
 side of the coach at the risk of his life, 
 ;vnd staring in with his great goggle 
 eyes, which seemed in hers the more 
 horrible from his face being upside 
 down ; dodging her in this way from 
 one window to another ; getting nimbly 
 down whenever they changed horses 
 and thrusting his head in at the 
 window with a dismal squint : which 
 ingenious tortures had such an effect 
 upon Mrs. Nubbles, that she was quite 
 unable for the time to resist the belief 
 that Mr. Quilp did in his own person 
 represent and embody that Evil Power, 
 who was so vigorously attacked at 
 Little Bethel, and who, by reason of 
 her backslidings in respect of Astley's 
 and oysters, was now frolicsome and 
 rampant. 
 
 Kit, having been apprised by letter 
 of his mother's intended return, was 
 waiting for her at the coach-office ; 
 and great was his surprise when he 
 saw, leering over the coachman's 
 shoulder like some familiar demon, in- 
 visible to all eyes but his, the well- 
 known face of Quilp. 
 
 " How are you, Christopher ? " 
 croaked the dwarf from the coach-top. 
 " All right, Christopher. Mother 's in- 
 side." 
 
 "Why, how did he come here, mo- 
 ther ? " whispered Kit. 
 
 " I don't know how he came or why, 
 my dear," rejoined Mrs. Nubbles, dis- 
 mounting with her sou's assistance, 
 " but he has been a terrifying of me out 
 of my seven senses all this blessed day." 
 
 " He has ? " cried Kit. 
 
 " You wouldn't believe it, that you 
 wouldn't," replied his mother, " but 
 don't say a word to him, for I really 
 don't believe he 's human. Hush ! 
 
 Don't turn round as if I was talking 
 of him, but he's a squinting at me 
 now in the full blaze of the coach- 
 lamp, quite awful ! ;> 
 
 In spite of his mother's injunction, 
 Kit turned sharply round to look. Mr. 
 Quilp was serenely gazing at the stars, 
 quite absorbed in celestial contem- 
 plation. 
 
 " Oh, he 's the artfullest creetur ! " 
 cried Mrs. Nubbles. " But come away. 
 Don't speak to him for the world." 
 
 " Yes I will, mother. What non- 
 sense. I say, sir " 
 
 Mr. Quilp affected to start, and 
 looked smilingly round. 
 
 "You let my mother alone, will 
 you 1 " said Kit. " How dare you 
 tease a poor lone woman like her, 
 making her miserable and melancholy 
 as if she hadn't got enough to make 
 her so, without you. An't you ashamed 
 of yourself, you little monster ? " 
 
 " Monster ! " said Quilp inwardly, 
 with a smile. " Ugliest dwarf that 
 could be seen anywhere for a penny 
 monster ah ! " 
 
 "You show her any of your impu- 
 dence again," resumed Kit, shoulder- 
 ing the bandbox, " and I tell you what, 
 Mr. Quilp, I won't bear with you any 
 more. You have no right to do it ; 
 I'm sure we never interfered with 
 you. This isn't the first time ; and if 
 ever you worry or frighten her again, 
 you '11 oblige me (though I should be 
 very sorry to do it, on account of 
 your size) to beat you." 
 
 Quilp said not a word in reply, but 
 walking up so close to Kit as to bring 
 his eyes within two or three inches of 
 his face, looked fixedly at him, re- 
 treated a little distance without avert- 
 ing his gaze, approached again, again 
 withdrew, and so on for half-a-dozen 
 times, like a head in a phantas- 
 magoria. Kit stood his ground as if 
 in expectation of an immediate assault, 
 but finding that nothing came of these 
 gestures, snapped his fingers and 
 walked away ; his mother dragging 
 him off as fast as she could, and, eveu 
 in the midst of his news of little Jacob 
 and the baby,lookinganxiously overher 
 shoulder to see if Quilp were following.
 
 222 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 KIT'S mother might have spared 
 herself the trouble of looking back so 
 often, for nothing was further from 
 Mr. Quilp's thoughts than any inten- 
 tion of pursuing her and her son, or 
 renewing the quarrel with which they 
 had parted. He went his way, whist- 
 ling from time to time some fragments 
 of a tune ; and, with a face quite tran- 
 quil and composed, jogged pleasantly 
 towards home ; entertaining himself 
 as he went with visions of the fears 
 and terrors of Mrs. Quilp, who having 
 received no intelligence of him for 
 three whole days and two nights, and 
 having had no previous notice of his 
 absence, was doubtless by that time 
 in a state of distraction, and con- 
 stantly fainting away with anxiety and 
 grief. 
 
 This facetious probability was so 
 congenial to the dwarf's humour, and 
 so exquisitely amusing to him, that he 
 laughed as he went along until the 
 tears ran down his cheeks ; and more 
 than once, when he found himself in a 
 bye street, vented his delight in a shrill 
 scream, which greatly terrifying any 
 lonely passenger, who happened to be 
 walking on before him expecting no- 
 thing so little, increased his mirth, and 
 made him remarkably cheerful and 
 light-hearted. 
 
 In this happy flow of spirits Mr. 
 Quilp reached Tower Hill, when, 
 gazing up at the window of his own 
 sitting-room, he thought he descried 
 more light than is usual in a house of 
 mourning. Drawing nearer, and lis- 
 tening attentively, he could hear 
 several voices in earnest conversation, 
 among which he could distinguish, not 
 only those of his wife and mother-in- 
 law, but the tongues of men. 
 
 " Ha ! " cried the jealous dwarf, 
 " What 's this ! Do they entertain 
 such visitors while I 'm away ! " 
 
 A smothered cough from above, was 
 the reply. He felt in his pockets for 
 his latch-key, but had forgotten it. 
 
 There was no resource but to knock 
 at the door. 
 
 "A light in the passage," said Quilp, 
 peeping through the key-hole. "A 
 very soft knock ; and, by your leave, 
 my lady, I may yet steal upon you 
 unawares. Soho ! " 
 
 A very low and gentle rap, received 
 no answer from within. But after a 
 second application to the knocker, no 
 louder than the first, the door was 
 softly opened by the boy from the 
 wharf, whom Quilp instantly gagged 
 with one hand, and dragged into the 
 street with the other. 
 
 " You '11 throttle me, master," whis- 
 pered the boy. " Let go, will you." 
 
 " Who 's up-stairs, you dog ? " re- 
 torted Quilp in the same tone . " Tell 
 me. And don't speak above your 
 breath, or I'll choke you in good 
 earnest." 
 
 The boy could only point to the 
 window, and reply with a stifled giggle, 
 expressive of such intense enjoyment, 
 that Quilp clutched him by the throat 
 again and might have carried his 
 threat into execution, or at least have 
 made very good progress towards that 
 end, but for the boy's nimbly extri- 
 cating himself from his grasp, and 
 fortifying himself behind the nearest 
 post, at which, after some fruitless 
 attempts to catch him by the hair of 
 his head, his master was obliged to 
 come to a parley. 
 
 " Will you answer me ? " said Quilp. 
 " What 's going on, above ? " 
 
 " You won't let one speak," replied 
 the boy. " They ha ha ha! they 
 think you 're you're dead. Hahaha!" 
 
 " Dead!" cried Quilp, relaxing into 
 a grim laugh himself. "No. Do 
 they ? Do they really, you dog ? " 
 
 " They think you 're you 're 
 drowned," replied the boy, who in his 
 malicious nature had a strong infusion 
 of his master. " You was last seen 
 on the brink of the wharf, and they 
 think you tumbled over. Ha ha ! "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 223 
 
 The prospect of playing the spy 
 under such delicious circumstances, 
 and of disappointing them all by walk- 
 ing in alive/ gave more delight to Quilp 
 than the greatest stroke of good for- 
 tune could possibly have inspired him 
 with. He was no less tickled than 
 his hopeful assistant, and they both 
 stood for some seconds, grinning and 
 gasping, and wagging their heads at 
 each other, on either side of the post, 
 like an unmatchable pair of Chinese 
 idols. 
 
 " Not a word," said Quilp, making 
 towards the door on tiptoe. " Not a 
 sound, not so much as a creaking 
 board, or a stumble against a cob- 
 web. Drowned, eh, Mrs. Quilp ? 
 Drowned!" 
 
 So saying, he blew out the candle, 
 kicked off his shoes, and groped his 
 way up stairs; leaving his delighted 
 young friend in an ecstacy of summer- 
 sets on the pavement. 
 
 The bedroom-door on the staircase 
 being unlocked, Mr. Quilp slipped in, 
 and planted himself behind the door 
 of communication between that cham- 
 ber and the sitting room, which stand- 
 ing ajar to render both more airy, and 
 having a very convenient chink (of 
 which he had often availed himself 
 for purposes of espial, and had in- 
 deed enlarged with his pocket-knife), 
 enabled him not only to hear, but to 
 see distinctly, what was passing. 
 
 Applying his eye to this convenient 
 place, he descried Mr. Brass seated at 
 the table with pen, ink, and paper, 
 and the case-bottle of rum his own 
 case-bottle, and his own particular 
 Jamaica convenient to his hand ; 
 with hot water, fragrant lemons, white 
 lump sugar, and all tilings fitting ; 
 from which choice materials, Samp- 
 son, by no means insensible to their 
 claims upon his attention, had com- 
 pounded a mighty glass of punch reek- 
 ing hot; which he was at that very mo- 
 ment stirring up with a teaspoon, and 
 contemplating with looks in which a 
 faint assumption of sentimental regret, 
 struggled but weakly with a bland 
 and comfortable joy. At the same 
 table, with both her elbows upon it, 
 
 was Mrs. Jiniwin ; no longer sipping 
 other people's punch feloniously with 
 teaspoons, but taking deep draughts 
 from a jorum of her own ; while her 
 daughter not exactly with ashes on 
 her head, or sackcloth on her back, 
 but preserving a very decent and 
 becoming appearance of sorrow never- 
 theless was reclining in an easy- 
 chair, and soothing her grief with a 
 smaller allowance of the same glib 
 liquid. There were also present, a 
 couple of water-side men, bearing 
 between them certain machines called 
 drags; even these fellows were accom- 
 modated with a stiff glass a-piece ; 
 and as they drank with a great relish, 
 and were naturally of a red-nosed, 
 pimple-faced, convivial look, their pre- 
 sence rather increased than detracted 
 from that decided appearance of com- 
 fort, which was the great characteristic 
 of the party. 
 
 "If I could poison that dear old lady's 
 rum and water," murmured Quilp, 
 " I 'd die happy." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Mr. Brass, breaking 
 the silence, and raising his eyes to the 
 ceiling with a sigh, " Who knows but 
 he may be looking down upon us now! 
 Who knows but he may be surveying 
 of us from from somewheres or 
 another, and contemplating us with a 
 watchful eye ! Oh Lor ! " 
 
 Here Mr. Brass stopped to drink 
 half his punch, and then resumed ; 
 looking at the other half, as he spoke, 
 with a dejected smile. 
 
 " I can almost fancy," said the 
 lawyer shaking his head, " that I see 
 his eye glistening down at the very 
 bottom of my liquor. When shall we 
 look upon his like again ? Never, 
 never ! One minute we are here " 
 holding his tumbler before his eyes 
 " the next we are there " gulping 
 down its contents, and striking himself 
 emphatically a little below the chest 
 " in the silent tomb. To think that I 
 should be drinking his very rum ! It 
 seems like a dream." 
 
 With the view, no doubt, of testing 
 the reality of his position, Mr. Brass 
 pushed his tumbler as he spoke towards 
 Mrs. Jiniwin for the purpose of being
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 replenished ; and turned towards the 
 attendant mariners. 
 
 " The search has been quite unsuc- 
 cessful then ? " 
 
 " Quite, master. But I should say 
 that if he turns up anywhere, he '11 
 come ashore somewhere about Grinidge 
 to-morrow, at ebb tide, eh, mate ? " 
 
 The other gentleman assented, ob- 
 serving that he was expected at the 
 Hospital, and that several pensioners 
 would be ready to receive him when- 
 ever he arrived. 
 
 " Then we have nothing for it but 
 resignation," said Mr. Brass ; " nothing 
 but resignation, and expectation. It 
 would be. a comfort to have his body ; 
 it would be a dreary comfort." 
 
 " Oh, beyond a doubt," assented 
 Mrs. Jiniwin hastily ; " if we once had 
 that, we should be quite sure." 
 
 " With regard to the descriptive 
 advertisement," said Sampson Brass, 
 taking up his pen. " It is a melan- 
 choly pleasure to recall his traits. 
 Respecting his legs now ? " 
 
 " Crooked, certainly," said Mrs. 
 Jiuiwin. 
 
 " Do you think they were crooked 1 " 
 said Brass, in an insinuating tone. " I 
 think I see them now coming up the 
 street very wide apart, in nankeen pan- 
 taloons a little shrunk and without 
 straps. Ah ! what a vale of tears we 
 live in. Do we say crooked ? " 
 
 " I think they were a little so," 
 observed Mrs. Quilp with a sob. 
 
 " Legs crooked," said Brass, writing 
 as he spoke. Large head, short body, 
 legs crooked." 
 
 " Very crooked," suggested Mrs. 
 Jiniwin. 
 
 " We '11 not say very crooked, 
 ma'am," said Brass piously. " Let us 
 not bear hard upon the weaknesses of 
 the deceased. He is gone, ma'am, to 
 where his legs will never come in ques- 
 tion. We will content ourselves with 
 crooked, Mrs. Jiniwin." 
 
 " I thought you wanted the truth," 
 said the old lady. That 's all." 
 
 " Bless your eyes, how I love you," 
 muttered Quilp. " There she goes 
 again. Nothing but punch ! " 
 
 "This is an occupation," said the 
 
 lawyer, laying down his pen and empty- 
 ing his glass, " which seems to bring 
 him before my eyes like the Ghost of 
 Hamlet's father, in the very clothes 
 that he wore on work-a-days. His cout, 
 his waistcoat, his shoes and stockings, 
 his trousers, his hat, his wit and 
 humour, his pathos and his umbrella, 
 all come before me like visions of my 
 youth. His linen ! " said Mr. Brass 
 smiling fondly at the wall, " his linen 
 which was always of a particular 
 colour, for such was his whim and 
 fancy how plain I see his linen now ! " 
 
 " You had better go on, sir," said 
 Mrs. Jiniwin impatiently. 
 
 " True, ma'am, true," cried Mr, 
 Brass. " Our faculties must not freeze 
 with grief. I '11 trouble you for a little 
 more of that, ma'am. A question now 
 arises, with relation to his nose." 
 
 " Flat," said Mrs. Jiniwin. 
 
 " Aquiline ! " cried Quilp, thrusting 
 in his head, and striking the feature 
 with his fist. " Aquiline, you hag, 
 Do you see it ? Do you call this flat 2 
 Do you ? Eh ? " 
 
 " Oh capital, capital ! " shouted 
 Brass, from the mere force of habit. 
 " Excellent ! How very good he is ! 
 He's a most remarkable man so* 
 extremely whimsical ! Such an amaz- 
 ing power of taking people by sur- 
 prise ! " 
 
 Quilp paid no, regard whatever to 
 these compliments, nor to the dubious 
 and frightened look into which tho 
 lawyer gradually subsided, nor to the 
 shrieks of his wife and mother-in-law, 
 nor to the latter's running from the 
 room, nor to the former's fainting 
 away. Keeping his eye fixed on 
 Sampson Brass, he walked up to the 
 table, and beginning with his glass, 
 drank off the contents, and went regu- 
 larly round until he had emptied the 
 other two, when he seized the case- 
 bottle, and hugging it under his arm, 
 surveyed him with a most extraordi- 
 nary leer. 
 
 " Not yet, Sampson," said Quilp. 
 "Not just yet!" 
 
 " Oh very good indeed ! " cried 
 Brass, recovering his spirits a little,. 
 " Ha ha ha ! Oh exceedingly good I
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP 
 
 225 
 
 There's not another man alive who 
 could carry it off like that. A most 
 difficult position to carry off. But he 
 nas such a flow of good-humour, such 
 .in amazing flow ! " 
 
 " Good night," said the dwarf, nod- 
 ding expressively. 
 
 " Good night sir, good night," cried 
 the lawyer, retreating backwards 
 towards the door. " This is a joyful 
 occasion indeed, extremely joyful. 
 Ha ha ha ! oh very rich, very rich 
 indeed, re-markably so ! " 
 
 Waiting until Mr. Brass's ejacula- 
 tions died away in the distance (for he 
 continued to pour them out, all the 
 way down stairs), Quilp advanced 
 towards the two men, who yet lingered 
 in a kind of stupid amazement. 
 
 " Have you been dragging the river 
 all day, gentlemen 2 " said the dwarf, 
 holding the door open with great 
 politeness. 
 
 " And yesterday too, master." 
 
 " Dear me you 've had a deal of 
 trouble. Pray consider everything 
 yours that you find upon the upou 
 the body. Good night ! " 
 
 The men looked at each other, but 
 had evidently no inclination to argue 
 the point just then, and shuffled out of 
 the room. This speedy clearance 
 effected, Quilp locked the doors ; and, 
 still embracing the case-bottle with 
 shrugged-up shoulders and folded 
 arms, stood looking at his insensible 
 wife like a dismounted nightmare. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 MATRIMONIAL differences are usually 
 discussed by the parties concerned in 
 the form of dialogue, in which the lady 
 bears at least her full half share. 
 Those of Mr. and Mrs. Quilp, however, 
 were an exception to the general rule ; 
 the remarks which they occasioned 
 being limited to a long soliloquy on the 
 part of the gentleman, with perhaps a 
 few deprecatory observations from the 
 lady, not extending beyond a trembling 
 monosyllable uttered at long intervals, 
 and in a very submissive and humble 
 tone. On the present occasion, Mrs. 
 Quilp did not for a long time venture 
 even on this gentle defence, but, 
 when she had recovered from her 
 fainting-fit, sat in a tearful silence, 
 meekly listening to the reproaches of 
 her lord and master. 
 
 Of these Mr. Quilp delivered him- 
 self with the utmost animation and 
 rapidity, and with so many distortions 
 of limb and feature, that even his wife, 
 although tolerably well accustomed to 
 his proficiency in these respects, was 
 well nigh beside herself with alarm. 
 
 No. 78. 
 
 But the Jamaica rum, and the joy of 
 having occasioned a heavy disappoint- 
 ment, by degrees cooled Mr. Quilp's 
 wrath ; which, from being at savage 
 heat, dropped slowly to the bantering 
 or chuckling point, at which it steadily 
 remained. 
 
 "So you thought I was dead and 
 gone, did you ? " said Quilp. " You 
 thought you were a widow, eh ? Ha, 
 ha, ha, you jade ! " 
 
 " Indeed Quilp," returned his wife. 
 " I 'm very sorry " 
 
 " Who doubts it ! " cried the dwarf. 
 " You very sorry ! to be sure you 
 are. Who doubts that you're very 
 sorry ! " 
 
 " I don't mean sorry that you have 
 come home again alive and well," 
 said his wife, " but sorry that I should 
 have been led into such a belief. I 
 am glad to see you Quilp ; indeed 
 lam." 
 
 In truth Mrs. Quilp did seem a great 
 deal more glad to behold her lord 
 than might have been expected, and 
 did evince a degree of interest in hia 
 
 Q 15
 
 226 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP 
 
 safety which, all things considered, was 
 rather unaccountable. Upon Quilp, 
 however, this circumstance made no 
 impression, farther than as it moved 
 him to snap his fingers close to his 
 wife's eyes, with divers grins of triumph 
 and derision. 
 
 " How could you go away so long, 
 without saying a word to me or letting 
 me hear of you or know anything 
 about you ? " asked the poor little 
 woman, sobbing. " How could you 
 be so cruel, Quilp ? " 
 
 " How could I be so cruel ! cruel ! " 
 cried the dwarf. " Because I was in 
 the humour. I 'm in the humour now. 
 I shall be cruel when I like. I'm 
 going away again." 
 
 " Not again ! " 
 
 " Yes, again. I 'm going away now. 
 I'm off directly. I mean to go and 
 live wherever the fancy seizes me at 
 the wharf at the counting-house 
 and be a jolly bachelor. You were 
 a widow in anticipation. Damme," 
 screamed the dwarf, " I '11 be a bache- 
 lor in earnest." 
 
 " You can't be serious, Quilp," 
 sobbed his wife. 
 
 " I tell you," said the dwarf, exult- 
 ing in his project, " that I '11 be a 
 bachelor, a devil-may-care bachelor; 
 and I '11 have my bachelor's hall at the 
 counting-house, and at such times 
 come near it if you dare. And mind 
 too that I don't pounce in upon you at 
 unseasonable hours again, for I '11 be a 
 spy upon you, and come and go like a 
 mole or a weazel. Tom Scott where 's 
 Tom Scott 1 " 
 
 " Here I am, master," cried the 
 voice of the boy, as Quilp threw up 
 the window. 
 
 "Wait there, you dog," returned 
 the dwarf, " to carry a bachelor's 
 portmanteau. Pack it up, Mrs. Quilp. 
 Knock up the dear old lady to help ; 
 knock her up. Hallo there ! Hallo !" 
 
 With these exclamations, Mr. Quilp 
 caught up the poker, and hurrying to 
 the door of the good lady's sleeping- 
 closet beat upon it therewith until she 
 awoke in inexpressible terror, thinking 
 that her amiable son-in-law surely 
 intended to murder her in justification 
 
 of the legs she had slandered. Im- 
 pressed with this idea, she was no 
 sooner fairly awake than she screamed 
 violently, and would have quickly pre- 
 cipitated herself out of the window 
 and through a neighbouring skylight, 
 if her daughter had not hastened in to 
 undeceive her, and implore her assist- 
 ance. Somewhat reassured by her 
 account of the service she was required 
 to render, Mrs. Jiniwin made her 
 appearance in a flannel dressing-gown ; 
 and both mother and daughter, trem- 
 bling with terror and cold for the 
 night was now far advanced obeyed 
 Mr. Quilp's 'directions in submissive 
 silence. Prolonging his preparations 
 as much as possible, for their greater 
 comfort, that eccentric gentleman 
 superintended the packing of his ward- 
 robe, and, having added to it with his 
 own hands, a plate, knife and fork, 
 spoon, teacup and saucer, and other 
 small household matters of that na- 
 ture, strapped up the portmanteau, 
 took it on his shoulders, and actually 
 marched off without another word, 
 and with the case-bottle (which he had 
 never once put down) still tightly 
 clasped under his arm. Consigning 
 his heavier burden to the care of Tom 
 Scott when he reached the street, 
 taking a dram from the bottle for his 
 own encouragement, and giving the 
 boy a rap on the head with it as a 
 small taste for himself, Quilp very 
 deliberately led the way to the wharf, 
 and reached it at between three and 
 four o'clock in the morning. 
 
 " Snug ! " said Quilp, when he had 
 groped Ins way to the wooden count- 
 ing-house, and opened the door with 
 a key he carried about with him. 
 " Beautifully snug ! Call me at eight, 
 you dog." 
 
 With no more formal leave-taking 
 or explanation, he clutched the port- 
 manteau, shut the door on his at- 
 tendant, and climbing on the desk, 
 and rolling himself up as round as a 
 hedgehog, in an old boat-cloak, fell fast 
 asleep. 
 
 Being roused in the morning at the 
 appointed time, and roused with diffi- 
 culty, after his late fatigues. Quilp
 
 THE OLD CUR10S1TV SHOP. 
 
 227 
 
 instructed Tom Scott to make a fire in 
 the yard of sundry pieces of old tim- 
 ber, and to prepare some coffee for 
 breakfast ; for the better furnishing of 
 which repast he entrusted him with 
 certain small moneys, to be expended 
 in the purchase of hot rolls, butter, 
 sugar, Yarmouth bloaters, and other 
 articles of housekeeping ; so that in a 
 few minutes a savoury meal was 
 smoking on the board. With this 
 substantial comfort, the dwarf regaled 
 himself to his heart's content ; and 
 being highly satisfied with this free 
 and gipsy mode of life (which he had 
 often meditated, as offering, whenever 
 he chose to avail himself of it, an 
 agreeable freedom from the restraints 
 of matrimony, and a choice means of 
 keeping Mrs. Quilp and her mother hi 
 a state of incessant agitation and sus- 
 pense), bestirred himself to improve 
 his retreat, and render it more com- 
 modious and comfortable. 
 
 With this view, he issued forth to a 
 place hard by, where sea-stores were 
 sold, purchased a second-hand ham- 
 mock, and had it slung in seamanlike 
 fashion from the ceiling of the count- 
 ing-house. He also caused to be 
 erected, in the same mouldy cabin, an 
 old ship's stove with a rusty funnel to 
 carry the smoke through the roof ; 
 and these arrangements completed, 
 surveyed them with ineffable delight. 
 
 " I 've got a country-house like 
 Robinson Crusoe," said the dwarf, 
 (gling the accommodations ; " a soli- 
 tary, sequestered, desolate-island sort 
 of spot, where I can be quite alone 
 when I kave business on hand, and be 
 secure from all spies and listeners. 
 Nobody near me here, but rats, and 
 they are fine stealthy secret fellows. 
 I shall be as merry as a grig among 
 these gentry. I '11 look out for one 
 like Christopher, and poison him ha, 
 La, ha ! Business though business 
 we must be mindful of business in 
 the midst of pleasure, and the time 
 has flown this morning, I declare." 
 
 Enjoining Tom Scott to await his 
 Saturn, and not to stand upon his 
 head, or throw a summerset, or so 
 much as walk upon his hands mean- 
 
 while, on pain of lingering torments, 
 the dwarf threw himself into a boat, 
 and crossing to the other side of the 
 river, and then speeding away on foot, 
 reached Mr. Swiveller's usual house 
 of entertainment in Bevis Marks, just 
 as that gentleman sat down alone to 
 dinner in its dusky parlour. 
 
 " Dick " said the dwarf, thrusting 
 his head in at the door, " my pet, my 
 pupil, the apple of my eye, hey, hey ! " 
 
 " Oh you 're there, are you ? " re- 
 turned Mr. Swiveller, "luno are you I" 
 
 " How 's Dick \ " retorted Quilp. 
 " How 's the cream of clerkship, eh ? " 
 
 " Why, rather sour, sir," replied 
 Mr. Swiveller. " Beginning to border 
 upon cheesiness, in fact." 
 
 " What 's the matter * " said the 
 dwarf, advancing. " Has Sally proved 
 unkind. ' Of all the girls that are so 
 smart, there 's none like ' eh Dick!" 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Mr. Swivel- 
 ler, eating his dinner with great 
 gravity, "none like her. She's the 
 sphynx of private life is Sally B." 
 
 " You 're out of spirits," said Quilp, 
 drawing up a chair. "What's the 
 matter?" 
 
 " The law don't agree with me " 
 returned Dick. " It isn't moist 
 enough, and there 's too much con- 
 finement. I have been thinking of 
 running away." 
 
 " Bah ! " said the dwarf. Where 
 would you run to, Dick ! " 
 
 " I don't know " returned Mr. Swi- 
 veller. "Towards Highgate, I sup- 
 pose. Perhaps the bells might strike 
 up ' Turn again Swiveller, Lord 
 Mayor of London.' Whittington's 
 name was Dick. I wish cats were 
 scarcer." 
 
 Quilp looked at his companion with 
 his eyes screwed up into a comical 
 expression of curiosity, and patiently 
 awaited his further explanation ; upor 
 which, however, Mr. Swiveller ap- 
 peared in no hurry to enter, as he 
 ate a very long dinner in profound si- 
 lence, finally poshed away his plate, 
 threw himself back into his chair, 
 folded his arms, and stared ruefully 
 at the fire, in which some ends of 
 cigars were smoking on their own
 
 228 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 account, and sending up a fragrant 
 odour. 
 
 " Perhaps you 'd like a bit of cake " 
 said Dick, at last turning to the 
 dwarf. " You 're quite welcome to it. 
 You ought to be, for it's of your 
 making." 
 
 " What do you mean ! " said Quilp. 
 
 Mr. Swiveller replied by taking 
 from his pocket a small and very 
 greasy parcel, dowly unfolding it, and 
 displaying a little slab of plum cake, 
 extremely indigestible in appearance, 
 and bordered with a paste of white 
 sugar an inch and a half deep. 
 
 " What should you say this was ? " 
 demanded Mr. Swiveller. 
 
 "It looks like bride-cake" replied 
 the dwarf, grinning. 
 
 "And whose should you say it 
 was ?" inquired Mr. Swiveller, rubbing 
 the pastry against his nose with a 
 dreadful calmness. " Whose 1 " 
 
 " Not" 
 
 " Yes " said Dick, " the same. You 
 needn't mention her name. There's 
 no such name now. Her name is 
 Cheggs now, Sophy Cheggs. Yet 
 loved I as man never loved that 
 hadn't wooden legs, and my heart, my 
 heart is breaking for the love of Sophy 
 Cheggs." 
 
 With this extemporary adaptation 
 of a popular ballad to the distressing 
 circumstances of his own case, Mr. 
 Swiveller folded up the parcel again, 
 beat it very flat between the palms of 
 his hands, thrust it into his breast, 
 buttoned Iris coat over it, and folded 
 his arms upon the whole. 
 
 "Now, I hope you're satisfied sir," 
 said Dick ; " and I hope Fred 's satis- 
 fied. You went partners in the mis- 
 chief, and I hope you like it This is 
 the triumph I was to have, is it ! It 's 
 like the old country-dance of that 
 name, where there are two gentlemen 
 to one lady, and one has her, and the 
 other hasn't, but comes limping up 
 behind to make out the figure. But 
 it 'a Destiny, and mine 's a crusher ! " 
 
 Disguising his secret joy in Mr. 
 Swiveller's defeat, Daniel Quilp 
 adopted the surest means of soothing 
 him, by ringing the bell, and ordering 
 
 in a supply of rosy wine (that is to say 
 of its usual representative), which he 
 put about with great alacrity, calling 
 upon Mr. Swiveller to pledge him iu 
 various toasts derisive of Cheggs, and 
 eulogistic of the happiness of single 
 men. Such was their impression on 
 Mr. Swiveller, coupled with the reflec- 
 tion that no man could oppose his 
 destiny, that in a very short space of 
 tune his spirits rose surprisingly, and 
 he was enabled to give the dwarf an. 
 account of the receipt of the cake, 
 which, it appeared, had been brought 
 to Bevis Marks by the two surviving 
 Miss Wackleses in person, and de- 
 livered at the office door with much 
 giggling and joyfulncss. 
 
 "Ha!" said Quilp. "It will be 
 our turn to giggle soon. And that 
 reminds me you spoke of young 
 Trent where is he ? " 
 
 Mr. Swiveller explained that his 
 respectable friend had recently ac- 
 cepted a responsible situation in a 
 locomotive gaming-house, and was at 
 that time absent on a professional 
 tour among the adventurous spirits of 
 Great Britain. 
 
 " That 's unfortunate " said the 
 dwarf, " for I came, in fact, to ask you 
 about him. A thought has occurred to 
 me. Dick ; your friend over the way " 
 
 "Which friend I" 
 
 " In the first floor." 
 
 Yes 1 " 
 
 " Your friend in the first floor, Dick, 
 may know him." 
 
 " No he don't," said Mr. Swiveller, 
 shaking his head. 
 
 " Don't. No, because he has never 
 seen him," rejoined Quilp ; "but if 
 we were to bring them together, who 
 knows, Dick, but Fred, properly intro- 
 duced, would serve his turn almost as 
 well as little Nell or her grandfather 
 who knows but it might make the 
 young fellow's fortune, and, through 
 him, yours, eh ! " 
 
 " Why, the fact is, you see," said 
 Mr. Swiveller, " that they have been 
 brought together." 
 
 " Have been ! " cried the dwarf, 
 looking suspiciously at his companion. 
 " Through whose means ? "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 u Through mine," said Dick, slightly 
 confused. Didn't I mention it to 
 you the last time you called over 
 yonder t" 
 
 "You know you didn't," returned 
 the dwarf. 
 
 I believe vou 're right," said Dick. 
 "No. I didn't, I recollect Oh yes, 
 I brought 'em together that very day. 
 It was Fred's suggestion." 
 
 And what came of it! " 
 
 ** Why, instead of my friend's burst- 
 ing into tears when he'knew who Fred 
 was, embracing him kindly, and telling 
 him that he was his grandfather, or 
 his grandmother in disguise, (which 
 we fully expected), he flew into a 
 tremendous passion ; called him all 
 manner of names ; said it was in a 
 great measure his fault that little Nell 
 and the old gentleman had ever been 
 brought to poverty ; didn't hint at 
 our tfiHng anything to drink ; and 
 and in short rather turned us oat of 
 the room than otherwise." 
 
 * That's strange," said the dwarf, 
 musing. 
 
 * So we remarked to each other at 
 the time," returned Dick coolly, "but 
 quite true.'" 
 
 Quilp was plainly staggered by this 
 intelligence, over which he brooded 
 for some time in moody silence, often 
 raising his eyes to Mr. Swivelkr's 
 face, and sharply scanning its expres- 
 sion. As he could read in it, however, 
 no additional information or anything 
 to lead him to believe he had spoken 
 falsely ; and as Mr. Swiveller, left to 
 his own meditations, sighed deeply, 
 and was evidently growing maudlin on 
 the subject of Mrs. Cheggs; the dwarf 
 soon broke up the conference and took 
 his departure, leaving the bereaved 
 one to his melancholy ruminations. 
 
 "Have been brought together, eh r 
 said the dwarf as he walked the 
 streets alone. a My friend has stolen 
 a inarch upon me. It led him to 
 nothing, and therefore is no great 
 matter, save in the intention. I'm 
 glad be has lost his mistress. Ha ha! 
 The blockhead mustn't leave the law 
 at present. I *m sure of him where he 
 is, whenever I want him for my own 
 
 purposes, and, besides, he 's a good 
 unconscious spy on Brass, and tells, 
 in his cups, all that he sees and hears. 
 You're useful to me Dick, and cost 
 nothing but a little treating now and 
 then. I am not sure that it may not 
 be worth while, before long, to take 
 credit with the stranger, Dick, by 
 discovering your designs upon the 
 child ; but for the present, we 11 
 remain the best friends in the world, 
 with your good leave." 
 
 Pursuing these thoughts, and gasp 
 ing as he went along, after his own 
 peculiar fashion, Mr. Quilp once more 
 crossed the Thames, and shut himself 
 up in his Bachelor's Hall, which, by 
 ; reason of its newly-erected chimney 
 depositing the smoke inside die room 
 and carrying none of it off, was not 
 i quite so agreeable as more fastidious 
 people might have desired. Such in- 
 \ conveniences, however, instead of dis- 
 gusting the dwarf with his new abode, 
 rather suited his humour; so, after 
 dining luxuriously from the public- 
 j house, he lighted his pipe, and smoked 
 ! against the chimney until nothing of 
 him was visible through the mist, but 
 a pair of red and highly inflamed 
 eyes, with sometimes a dim vision of 
 ; his head and face, as, in a violent fit 
 j of coughing, he slightly stirred the 
 smoke and scattered the heavy wreaths 
 : by which they were obscured. In the 
 midst of this atmosphere, which must 
 1 infallibly have smothered any other 
 I man, Mr. Quilp passed the evening 
 1 with groat cheerfulness; solacing him- 
 ' self all the time with the pipe and the 
 | case-bottle ; and occasionally enter- 
 If with a melodious howl, 
 
 for a song, but bearing not 
 the faintest resemblance to any scrap 
 of any piece of music, vocal or instru- 
 mental, ever invented by man. Thus 
 he amused himself until nearly mid- 
 night, when he turned into his ham- 
 mock with the utmost satisfaction. 
 
 The first sound that met his ears 
 ia the morning as he half opened 
 his eyes, and, finding himself so 
 unusually near the ceiling, entertained 
 a drowsy idea that he must have been 
 transformed into a fly or blue-bottle
 
 230 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 in the course of the night, was that 
 of a stifled sobbing and weeping in the 
 room. Peeping cautiously over the 
 side of his hammock, he descried Mrs. 
 Quilp, to whom, after contemplating 
 her for some time in silence, he com- 
 municated a violent start by suddenly 
 yelling out, 
 
 "Halloa!" 
 
 " Oh Quilp ! " cried his poor little 
 wife, looking up. " How you frightened 
 me ! " 
 
 "I meant to, you jade," returned 
 the dwarf. " What do you want here ? 
 I 'm dead, an't I ? " 
 
 " Oh please come home, do come 
 home," said Mrs. Quilp, sobbing ; 
 " we '11 never do so any more Quilp, 
 and after all it was only a mistake 
 that grew out of our anxiety." 
 
 " Out of your anxiety," grinned the 
 dwarf. " Yes, I know that out of 
 your anxiety for my death. I shall 
 come home when I please, I tell you. 
 I shall come home when I please, and 
 go when I please. I '11 be a Will o' 
 the Wisp, now here, now there, danc- 
 ing about you always, starting up 
 when you least expect me, and keep- 
 ing you in a constant state of rest- 
 lessness and irritation. Will you 
 begone?" 
 
 Mrs. Quilp durst only make a gesture 
 of entreaty. 
 
 " I tell you no," cried the dwarf 
 " No. If you dare to come here again 
 unless you 're sent for, I '11 keep 
 watch-dogs in the y-ard that'll growl 
 and bite I '11 have man-traps, cun- 
 ningly altered and improved for catch- 
 ing women I '11 have spring guns, 
 that shall explode when you tread 
 upon the wires, and blow you into 
 little pieces. Will you go I " 
 
 " Do forgive me. Do come back," 
 said his wife, earnestly. 
 
 " No-o-o-o-o ! " roared Quilp. " Not 
 till my own good time, and then I'll 
 return again as often as I choose, and 
 be accountable to nobody for my goings 
 or comings. You see the door there. 
 Will you go ? " 
 
 Mr. Quilp delivered this last com- 
 mand in such a very energetic voice, 
 and moreover accompanied it with 
 such a sudden gesture, indicative of an 
 intention to spring out of his hammock, 
 and, night-capped as he was, bear his 
 wife home again through the public 
 streets, that she sped away .like an 
 arrow. Her worthy lord stretched 
 his neck and eyes until she had crossed 
 the yard, and then, not at all sorry to 
 have had this opportunity of carrying 
 his point, and asserting the sanctity of 
 his castle, fell into an immoderate fit of 
 laughter, and laid himself down to sleep 
 again.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 231 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 THE bland and open-hearted pro- 
 prietor of Bachelor's Hall, slept on 
 amidst the congenial accompaniments 
 of rain, mud, dirt, damp, fog, and rats, 
 until late in the day ; when, summon- 
 ing his valet Tom Scott to assist him 
 to rise, and to prepare breakfast, he 
 quitted his couch, and made his toilet. 
 This duty performed, and his repast 
 ended, he again betook himself to Bevis 
 Marks. 
 
 This visit was not intended for Mr. 
 Swiveller, but for his friend and em- 
 ployer Mr. Sampson Brass. Both 
 gentlemen however were from home, 
 nor was the life and light of law, Miss 
 Sally, at her post either. The fact of 
 their joint desertion of the office was 
 made known to all comers by a scrap 
 of paper hi the hand-writing of Mr. 
 Swiveller, which was attached to the 
 bell-handle, and which, giving the 
 reader no clue to the time of day when 
 it was first posted, furnished him with 
 the rather vague and unsatisfactory 
 information that that gentleman would 
 " return in an hour." 
 
 " There 's a servant, I suppose," said 
 the dwarf, knocking at the house-door. 
 "She '11 do." 
 
 After a sufficiently long interval, 
 the door was opened, and a small voice 
 immediately accosted him with, " Oh 
 please will you leave a card or mes- 
 sage ? " 
 
 " Eh ? " said the dwarf, looking 
 down (it was something quite new to 
 him) upon the small servant. 
 
 To this, the child, conducting her 
 conversation as upon the occasion of 
 her first interview with Mr. Swiveller, 
 again replied, " Oh please will you leave 
 a card or message ? " 
 
 " I '11 write a note," said the dwarf, 
 pushing past her into the office ; " and 
 mind your master has it directly he 
 comes home." So Mr. Quilp climbed 
 up to the top of a tall stool to write the 
 note, and the small servant carefully 
 tutored for such emergencies, looked 
 on, with her eyes wide open, ready, if 
 
 he so much as abstracted a wafer, to 
 rush into the street and give the alarm 
 to the police. 
 
 As Mr. Quilp folded his note (wliich 
 was soon written : being a very short 
 one) he encountered the gaze of the 
 small servant. He looked at her, long 
 and earnestly. 
 
 " How are you ? " said the dwarf, 
 moistening a wafer with horrible 
 grimaces. 
 
 The small servant, perhaps fright- 
 ened by his looks, returned no audible 
 reply ; but it appeared from the motion 
 of her lips that she was inwardly re- 
 peating the same form of expression 
 concerning the note or message. 
 
 " Do they use you ill here ? is your 
 mistress a Tartar I " said Quilp with a 
 chuckle. 
 
 In reply to the last interrogation, the 
 small servant, with a look of infinite 
 cunning mingled with fear, screwed up 
 her mouth very tight and round, and 
 nodded violently. 
 
 Whether there was anything hi the 
 peculiar slyness of her action which 
 fascinated Mr. Quilp, or anything in 
 the expression of her features at the 
 moment which attracted his attention 
 for some other reason ; or whether it 
 merely occurred to him as a pleasant 
 whim to stare the small servant out of 
 countenance ; certain it is, that he 
 planted his elbows square and firmly 
 on the desk, and squeezing up his 
 cheeks with his hands, looked at her 
 fixedly. 
 
 " Where do you come from ? " he 
 said after a long pause, stroking his chin. 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " What 's your name ? " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " Nonsense! "retorted Quilp. "What 
 does your mistress call you when she 
 wants you ? " 
 
 A little devil," said the child. 
 
 She added in the same breath, as if 
 fearful of any further questioning, 
 " But please will you leave a card or 
 message I "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 These unusual answers might na- 
 turally have provoked some more 
 inquiries. Quilp, however, without 
 uttering another word, withdrew his 
 eyes from the small servant, stroked 
 his chin more thoughtfully than before, 
 and then, bending over the note as if 
 to direct it with scrupulous and hair- 
 breadth nicety, looked at her, covertly 
 but very narrowly, from under his 
 bushy eyebrows. The result of this 
 secret survey was, that he shaded his j 
 face with his hands, and laughed 
 -slyly and noiselessly, until every vein 
 in it was swollen almost to bursting. 
 Pulling his hat over his brow to conceal 
 his mirth and its effects, lie tossed the 
 letter to the child, and hastily withdrew. 
 
 Once in the street, moved by some 
 secret impulse, he laughed, and held 
 his sides, and laughed again, and tried 
 to peer through the dusty area railings 
 us if to catch another glimpse of the 
 child, until he was quite tired out. At 
 ' last, he travelled back to the Wilder- 
 ness, which was within rifle-shot of his 
 bachelor retreat, and ordered tea in 
 the wooden summer-house that after- 
 noon for three persons ; an invitation 
 to Miss Sally Brass and her brother to 
 partake of that entertainment at that 
 place, having been the object both of 
 his journey and his note. 
 
 It was not precisely the kind of 
 weather in which people usually take 
 tea in summer-houses, far less in sum- 
 mer-houses in an advanced state of 
 decay, and overlooking the slimy banks 
 of a great river at low water. Never- 
 theless, it was in this choice retreat 
 that Mr. Quilp ordered a cold colla- 
 .tiou to be prepared, and it was beneath 
 its cracked and leaky roof that he, in 
 due course of time, received Mr. Samp- 
 son and his sister Sally. 
 
 " You 're fond of the beauties of 
 nature," said Quilp with a grin. " Is 
 this charming, Brass ? Is it unusual, 
 unsophisticated, primitive ? " 
 
 " It 's delightful indeed, sir," replied 
 the lawyer. 
 
 "Cool? "said Quilp. 
 
 *' N-not particularly so, I think, sir," 
 Tejoined Brass, with his teeth chatter- 
 ing in his head. 
 
 " Perhaps a little damp and aguc- 
 ish ? " said Quilp. 
 
 " Just damp enough to be cheerful, 
 sir," rejoined Brass. " Nothing move, 
 sir, nothing more." 
 
 "And Sally?" said the delighted 
 dwarf. " Does she like it ? " 
 
 " She '11 like it better," returned that 
 strong-minded lady, " when she has 
 tea ; so let us have it, and don't bother." 
 
 " Sweet Sally ! " cried Quilp, ex- 
 tending his arms as if about to embrace 
 her. " Gentle, charming, overwhelm- 
 ing Sally." 
 
 " He 's a very remarkable man in- 
 deed ! " soliloquised Mr. Brass. " He 's. 
 quite a Troubadour you know ; quite 
 a Troubadour ! " 
 
 These complimentary expressions 
 were uttered in a somewhat absent and 
 distracted manner ; for the unfortunate 
 lawyer, besides having a bad cold in 
 his head, had got wet in coming, and 
 would have willingly borne some pecu- 
 niary sacrifice if he could have shifted 
 his present raw quarters to a warm. 
 room, and dried himself at a fire. 
 Quilp, however, who, beyond the 
 gratification of his demon whims, owed 
 Sampson some acknowledgment of the 
 part he had played in the mourning 
 scene of which he had been a hidden 
 witness, marked these symptoms of 
 uneasiness with a delight past all ex- 
 pression, and derived from them a 
 secret joy which the costliest banquet 
 could never have afforded him. 
 
 It is worthy of remark too, as illus- 
 trating a little feature in the character 
 of Miss Sally Brass, that, although on 
 her own account she would have borne 
 the discomforts of the Wilderness with 
 a very ill grace, and would probably, 
 indeed, have walked off before the tea 
 appeared, she no sooner beheld the 
 latent uneasiness and misery of her 
 brother than she developed a grim 
 satisfaction, and began to enjoy her- 
 self after her own manner. Though 
 the wet came stealing through the 
 roof and trickling down upon their 
 heads, Miss Brass uttered no com- 
 plaint, but presided over the tea equi- 
 page with imperturbable composure. 
 While Mr. Quilp, in his uproarious
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 hospitality, seated himself upon an 
 empty beer-barrel, vaunted the place 
 as the most beautiful and comfortable 
 in the three kingdoms, and elevating 
 his glass, drank to their next merry- 
 meeting in that jovial spot ; and Mr. 
 Brass, with the rain plashing down 
 into his tea-cup, made a dismal attempt 
 to pluck up his spirits and appear at 
 his ease ; and Tom Scott, who was in 
 waiting at the door under an old 
 umbrella, exulted in his agonies, and 
 bade fair to split his sides with laugh- 
 ing ; while all this was passing, Miss 
 Sally Brass, unmindful of the wet 
 which dripped down upon her own 
 feminine person and fair apparel, sat 
 placidly behind the tea-board, erect 
 and grizzly, contemplating the unhap- 
 piness of her brother with a mind at 
 ease, and content, in her amiable dis- 
 regard of self, to sit there all night, 
 witnessing the torments which his 
 avaricious and grovelling nature com- 
 pelled him to endure and forbade him 
 to resent. And this, it must be ob- 
 served, or the illustration would be 
 incomplete, although in a business 
 point of view she had the strongest 
 sympathy with Mr. Sampson, and 
 would have been beyond measure in- 
 dignant, if he had thwarted their client 
 in any one respect. 
 
 In the height of his boisterous 
 merriment, Mr. Quilp, having on some 
 pretence dismissed his attendant sprite 
 for the moment, resumed his usual 
 manner all at once, dismounted from 
 his cask, and laid his hand upon the 
 lawyer's sleeve. 
 
 " A word," said the dwarf, " before 
 we go farther. Sally, hark'ee for a 
 minute." 
 
 Miss Sally drew closer, as if accus- 
 tomed to business conferences with 
 their host which were the better for 
 not having air. 
 
 "Business," said the dwarf, glancing 
 from brother to sister. " Very private 
 business. Lay your heads together 
 when you 're by yourselves." 
 
 " Certainly, sir," returned Brass, 
 taking out his pocket-book and pencil. 
 "I'll take down the heads if you 
 please, sir. Remarkable documents," 
 
 added the lawyer, raising his eyes to 
 the ceiling, " most remarkable "docu- 
 ments. He states his points so clearly 
 that it "s a treat to have 'em ! I don't 
 know any act of parliament that's 
 equal to him in clearness." 
 
 " I shall deprive you of a treat," 
 said Quilp. " Put up your book. 
 We don't want any documents. So. 
 There 's a lad named Kit " 
 
 Miss Sally nodded, implying that 
 she knew of him. 
 
 " Kit ! " said Mr. Sampson. "Kit ! 
 Ha ! I 've heard the name before, but 
 I don't exactly call to mind I don't 
 exactly " 
 
 " You 're as slow as a tortoise, and 
 more thick-headed than a rhinoceros," 
 returned his obliging client with an 
 impatient gesture. 
 
 " He 's extremely pleasant ! " cried 
 the obsequious Sampson. " His ac- 
 quaintance with Natural History tco 
 is surprising. Quite a Buffoon, quite ! " 
 
 There is no doubt that Mr. Brass 
 intended some compliment or other ; 
 and it has been argued with show of 
 reason that he would have said Buffon, 
 but made use of a superfluous vowel. 
 Be this as it may, Quilp gave him no 
 time' for correction, as he performed 
 that office himself by more thaw 
 tapping him on the head with the 
 handle of his umbrella. 
 
 " Don't let 's have any wrangling," 
 said Miss Sally, staying his hand. 
 " I 've showed you that I know him, 
 and that's enough." 
 
 " She 's always foremost ! " said the 
 dwarf, patting her on the back and 
 looking contemptuously at Sampson. 
 I don't like Kit, Sally." 
 
 " Nor I," rejoined Miss Brass. 
 
 " Nor I," said Sampson. 
 
 Why, that 's right ! " cried Quilp. 
 " Half our work is done already. This 
 Kit is one of your honest people ; one 
 of your fair characters ; a prowl big 
 prying hound ; a hypocrite ; a double- 
 faced, white-livered, sneaking spy ; a 
 crouching cur to those that feed and 
 coax him, and a barking yelping dog 
 to all besides." 
 
 " Fearfully eloquent ! " cried Brass, 
 with a sneeze. " Quite appalling ! "
 
 234 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 " Come to the point," said Miss 
 Sally, " and don't talk so much." 
 
 " Right again ! " exclaimed Quilp, 
 with another contemptuous look at 
 Sampson, " always foremost ! I say, 
 Sally, he is a yelping, insolent dog to 
 all besides, and most of all, to me. In 
 short, I owe him a grudge." 
 
 " That 's enough, sir," said Samp- 
 son. 
 
 " No, it 's not enough, sir," sneered 
 Quilp ; " will you hear me out ? 
 Besides that I owe him a grudge on 
 that account, he thwarts me at this 
 minute, and stands between me and an 
 end which might otherwise prove a 
 golden one to us all. Apart from that, 
 I repeat that he crosses my humour, 
 and I hate him. Now, you know the 
 lad, and can guess the rest. Devise 
 your own means of putting him out of 
 my way, and execute them. Shall it 
 be done 1 " 
 
 " It shall, sir," said Sampson. 
 
 " Then give me your hand," re- 
 torted Quilp. " Sally, girl, yours. I 
 rely as much, or more, on you than 
 him. Tom Scott comes back. Lan- 
 tern, pipes, more grog, and a jolly 
 night of it ! " 
 
 No other word was spoken, no other 
 look exchanged, which had the slightest 
 
 reference to this, the real occasion of 
 their meeting. The trio were well 
 accustomed to act together, and were 
 linked to each other by ties of mutual 
 interest and advantage, and nothing 
 more was needed. Resuming his bois- 
 terous manner with the same ease 
 with which he had thrown it off, Quilp 
 was in an instant the same uproarious, 
 reckless little savage, he had been a 
 few seconds before. It was ten o'clock 
 at night before the amiable Sally sup- 
 ported her beloved and loving brother 
 from the Wilderness, by which time 
 he needed the utmost support her 
 tender frame could render ; his walk 
 being for some unknown reason any- 
 thing but steady, and his legs con- 
 stantly doubling up, in unexpected 
 places. 
 
 Overpowered, notwithstanding his 
 late prolonged slumbers, by the fatigues 
 of the last few days, the dwarf lost no 
 time in creeping to his dainty house, 
 and was soon dreaming in his ham- 
 mock. Leaving him to visions, in 
 which perhaps the quiet figures we 
 quitted in the old church porch were 
 not without their share, be it our 
 task to rejoin them as they sat and 
 watched.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 23S 
 
 CHAPTER LIT. 
 
 AFTER a long time, the schoolmaster 
 appeared at the wicket-gate of the 
 churchyard, and hurried towards 
 them, jingling in his hand, as he 
 came along, a bundle of rusty keys. 
 He was quite breathless with pleasure 
 and haste when he reached the porch, 
 and at first could only point towards 
 the old building which the child had 
 been contemplating so earnestly. 
 
 " You see those two old houses," he 
 said at last. 
 
 "Yes surely," replied Nell. "I 
 hare been looking at them nearly all 
 the time you have been away." 
 
 " And you would have looked at 
 them more curiously yet, if you could 
 have guessed what I have to tell you," 
 said her friend. " One of those houses 
 is mine." 
 
 Without saying any more, or giving 
 the child time to reply, the schoolmas- 
 ter took her hand, and, his honest face 
 quite radiant with exultation, led her 
 to the place of which he spoke. 
 
 They stopped before its low arched 
 door. After trying several of the 
 keys in vain, the schoolmaster found 
 one to fit the huge lock, which turned 
 back, creaking, and admitted them 
 into the house. 
 
 The room into which they entered 
 was a vaulted chamber once nobly 
 ornamented by cunning architects, and 
 still retaining, in its beautiful groined 
 roof and rich stone tracery, choice 
 remnants of its ancient splendour. 
 Foliage carved in the stone, and emu- 
 lating the mastery of Nature's hand, 
 yet remained to tell how many times 
 the leaves outside had come and gone, 
 while it lived on unchanged. The 
 broken figures supporting the burden 
 of the chimney-piece, though muti- 
 lated, were still distinguishable for 
 what they had been far different from 
 the dust without and showed sadly 
 by the empty hearth, like creatures 
 who had outlived their kind, and 
 mourned their own too slow decay. 
 
 In seme old tune for even change 
 
 was old in that old place a wooden 
 partition had been constructed in one 
 part of the chamber to form a sleep- 
 ing-closet, into which the light was 
 admitted at the same period by a rude 
 window, or rather niche, cut in the 
 solid wall. Thia screen, together with 
 two seats in the broad chimney, had 
 at some forgotten date been part of the 
 church or convent ; for the oak, 
 hastily appropriated to its present 
 purpose, had been h'ttle altered from 
 its former shape, and presented to the 
 eye a pile of fragments of rich carving 
 from old monkish stalls. 
 
 An open door leading to a small 
 room or cell, dim with the light that 
 came through leaves of ivy, completed 
 the mterior of this portion of the ruin. 
 It was not quite destitute of furniture. 
 A few strange chairs, whose arms and 
 legs looked as though they had 
 dwindled away with age ; a table, the 
 very spectre of its race ; a great old 
 chest that had once held records in 
 the church, with other quaintly- 
 fashioned domestic necessaries, and 
 store of fire- wood for the winter, were 
 scattered around, and gave evident 
 tokens of its occupation as a dwelling- 
 place at no very distant time. 
 
 The child looked around her, with 
 that solemn feeling with which we 
 contemplate the work of ages that 
 have become but drops of water in the 
 great ocean of eternity. The old man 
 had followed them, but they were all 
 three hushed for a space, and drew 
 their breath softly, as if they feared 
 to break the silence even by so slight 
 a sound. 
 
 " It is a very beautiful place ! " said 
 the child, in a low voice. 
 
 " I almost feared you thought other- 
 wise," returned the schoolmaster. 
 " You shivered when we first came in, 
 as if you felt it cold or gloomy." 
 
 It was not that," said Nell, 
 glancing round with a slight shudder. 
 "Indeed I cannot tell you what it 
 was, but when I saw the outside, from
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 tUe church porch, the same feeling 
 came over me. It is its being so old 
 and gray, perhaps." 
 
 " A peaceful place to live in, don't 
 you think so ? " said her friend. 
 
 "Oh yes," rejoined the child, clasp- 
 ing her hands earnestly. " A quiet, 
 happy place a place to live and learn 
 to die in ! " She would have said 
 more, but that the energy of her 
 thoughts caused her voice to falter, 
 and come in trembling whispers from 
 her lips. 
 
 " A place to live, and learn to live, 
 and gather health of mind and body 
 in," said the schoolmaster ; " for this 
 old house is yours." 
 
 *' Ours ! " cried the child. 
 
 "Aye," returned the schoolmaster 
 gaily, "for many a merry year to 
 come, I hope. I shall be a close 
 neighbour only next door but this 
 house is yours." 
 
 Having now disburdened himself of 
 his great surprise, the schoolmaster 
 sat down, and drawing Nell to his 
 side, told her how he had learnt that 
 that ancient tenement had been occu- 
 pied for a very long time by an old 
 person, nearly a hundred years of age, 
 who kept the keys of the church, 
 opened and closed it for the services, 
 and showed it to strangers ; how she 
 had died not many weeks ago, and 
 nobody had yet been found to fill the 
 office ; how, learning all this in an 
 interview with the sexton, who was 
 confined to his bed by rheumatism, he 
 had been bold to make mention of his 
 fellow-traveller, which had been so 
 favourably received by that high au- 
 thority, that he had taken courage, 
 acting on his advice, to propound the 
 matter to the clergyman. In a word, 
 the result of his exertions was, that 
 Nell and her grandfather were to be 
 carried before the last-named gentle- 
 man next day; and, his approval of 
 their conduct and appearance reserved 
 ns a matter of form, that they were 
 already appointed to the vacant post. 
 
 " There 's a small allowance of mo- 
 ney," said the schoolmaster. " It is 
 not much, but still enough to live upon 
 in this retired spot. By clubbing our 
 
 funds together, we shall do bravely ; 
 no fear of that." 
 
 " Heaven bless and prosper you ! " 
 sobbed the child. 
 
 "Amen, my dear," returned her 
 friend cheerfully ; " and all of us, as it 
 will, and has, in leading us through 
 sorrow and trouble to this tranquil 
 life. But we must look at my house 
 now. Come ! " 
 
 They repaired to the other tene- 
 ment ; tried the rusty keys as before ; 
 at length found the right one ; and 
 opened the worm-eaten door. It led 
 into a chamber, vaulted and old, like 
 that from which they had come, but 
 not so spacious, and having only one 
 other little room attached. It was 
 not difficult to divine that the other 
 house was of right the schoolmaster's, 
 and that he had chosen for himself 
 the least commodious, in his care and 
 regard for them. Like the adjoining 
 habitation, it held such old articles of 
 furniture as were absolutely necessary, 
 and had its stack of fire-wood. 
 
 To make these dwellings as habit- 
 able and full of comfort as they could, 
 was now their pleasant care. In a 
 short time, each had its cheerful fire 
 glowing and crackling on the hearth, 
 and reddening the pale old walls with 
 a hale and healthy blush. Nell, busily 
 plying her needle, repaired the tat- 
 tered window-hangings, drew together 
 the rents that time had worn in the 
 threadbare scraps of carpet, and made 
 them whole and decent. The school- 
 master swept and smoothed the ground 
 before the door, trimmed the long 
 grass, trained the ivy and creeping 
 plants, which hung their drooping 
 heads in melancholy neglect ; and 
 gave to the outer walls a cheery air of 
 home. The old man, sometimes by 
 his side and sometimes with the child, 
 lent his aid to both, went here and 
 there on little patient services, and 
 was happy. Neighbours too, as they 
 came from work, proffered their help; 
 or sent their children with such small 
 presents or loans as the strangei's 
 needed most. It was a busy day; and 
 night came on, and found them won- 
 dering that there was yet so much to
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 237 
 
 do, and that it should be dark so 
 soon. 
 
 They took their supper together, in 
 the house which may be henceforth 
 called the child's ; and, when they had 
 finished their meal, drew round the 
 fire, and almost in whispers their 
 hearts were too quiet and glad for 
 loud expression discussed their future 
 plans. Before they separated, the 
 schoolmaster read some prayers aloud; 
 aud then, full of gratitude and happi- 
 ness, they parted for the night. 
 
 At that silent hour, when her grand- 
 father was sleeping peacefully in his 
 bed, and every sound was hushed, the 
 child lingered before the dying embers, 
 and thought of her past fortunes as if 
 they had been a dream and she only 
 now awoke. The glare of the sinking 
 flame, reflected in the oaken panels 
 whose carved tops were dimly seen in 
 the gloom of the dusky roof the aged 
 walls, where strange shadows came 
 an,d went with every flickering of the 
 fire the solemn presence, within, of 
 that decay which falls on senseless 
 things the most enduring in their 
 nature ; and, without, and round 
 about on every side, of Death filled 
 her with deep and thoughtful feelings, 
 but with none of terror or alarm. A 
 change had been gradually stealing 
 over her, in the time of her loneliness 
 and sorrow. With failing strength 
 and heightening resolution, there had 
 sprung up a purified and altered mind; 
 there had grown in her bosom blessed 
 thoughts and hopes, which are the 
 portion of few but the weak and 
 drooping. There were none to see 
 the frail, perishable figure, as it glided 
 from the fire and leaned pensively at 
 the open casement ; none but the 
 stars, to look into the upturned face 
 and read its history. The old church 
 bell rang out the hour with a mournful 
 sound, as if it had grown sad from so 
 much communing with the dead and 
 unheeded warning to the living ; the 
 fallen leaves rustled ; the grass stirred 
 upon the graves ; all else was still and 
 sleeping. 
 
 Some of those dreamless sleepers 
 lay close within the shadow of the 
 
 church touching the wall, as if thgy 
 clung to it for comfort and protection. 
 Others had chosen to lie beneath the 
 changing shade of trees ; others, by 
 the path, tluit footsteps might come 
 near them ; others, among the graves 
 of little children. Some, had desired 
 to rest beneath the very ground they 
 had trodden in their daily walks ; 
 some, where the setting sun might 
 shine upon their beds; some, where 
 its light would fall upon them when it 
 rose. Perhaps not one of the im- 
 prisoned souls had been able quite to 
 separate itself in living thought from 
 its old companion. If any had, it had 
 still felt for it a love like that which 
 captives have been known to bear 
 towards the cell in which they have 
 been long confined, and, even at part- 
 | ing, hung upon its narrow bounds 
 affectionately. 
 
 It was long before the child closed 
 
 the window, and approached her bed. 
 
 Again something of the same sensation 
 
 as before an involuntary chill a 
 
 momentary feeling akin to fear but 
 
 vanishing directly, and leaving no 
 
 alarm behind. Again too, dreams of 
 
 j the little scholar ; of the roof opening, 
 
 I and a column of bright faces, rising 
 
 I far away into the sky, as she had 
 
 ! seen in some old scriptural picture 
 
 j once, and looking down on her, asleep. 
 
 i It was a sweet and happy dream. 
 
 I The quiet spot, outside, seemed to 
 
 ; remain the same, save that there was 
 
 j music in the air, and a sound of angels' 
 
 j wings. After a tune the sisters came 
 
 j there, hand in hand, and stood among 
 
 i the graves. And then the dream grew 
 
 dim. and faded. 
 
 With the brightness and joy of 
 morning, came the renewal of yester- 
 day's labours, the revival of its pleasant 
 thoughts, the restoration of its energies, 
 cheerfulness, and hope. They worked 
 gaily in ordering and arranging their 
 houses until noon, and then went to 
 visit the clergyman. 
 
 He was a simple-hearted old gentle- 
 man, of a shrinking, subdued spirit, 
 accustomed to retirement, and very 
 little acquainted with the world, which 
 he had left many years before to come
 
 233 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 and settle in that place. His wife had 
 died in the house in which he still 
 lived, and he had long since lost sight 
 of any earthly cares or hopes beyond it. 
 
 He received them very kindly, and 
 at once showed an interest in Nell ; 
 asking her name, and age, her birth- 
 place, the circumstances which had led 
 her there, and so forth. The school- 
 master had already told her story. 
 They had no other friends or home to 
 leave, he said, and had come to share 
 his fortunes. He loved the child as 
 though she were his own. 
 
 " Well, well," said the clergyman. 
 " Let it be as you desire. She is very 
 young." 
 
 " Old in adversity and trial, sir," re- 
 plied the schoolmaster. 
 
 " God help her ! Let her rest, and 
 forget them," said the old gentleman. 
 " But an old church is a dull and 
 gloomy place for one so young as you, 
 my child." 
 
 " Oh no, sir," returned Nell. " I 
 have no such thoughts, indeed." 
 
 " I would rather see her dancing on 
 the green at nights," said the old gen- 
 tleman, laying his hand upon her head, 
 and smiling sadly, " than have her 
 sitting in the shadow of our moulder- 
 ing arches. You must look to this, 
 and see that her heart does not grow 
 heavy among these solemn ruins. 
 Your request is granted, friend." 
 
 After more kind words, they with- 
 drew, and repaired to the child's 
 house ; where they were yet in con- 
 versation on their happy fortune, when 
 another friend appeared. 
 
 This was a little old gentleman, who 
 lived in the parsonage-house, and had 
 resided there (so they learnt soon 
 afterwards) ever since the death of the 
 clergyman's wife, which had happened 
 fifteen years before. He had been his 
 college friend and always his close 
 companion ; in the first shock of his 
 grief he had come to console and com- 
 fort him ; and from that time they had 
 never parted company. The little old 
 gentleman was the active spirit of the 
 place, the adjuster of all difference's, 
 the promoter of all merry-makings, 
 the dispenser of his friend's bounty, 
 
 and of no small charity of his own 
 besides ; the universal mediator, com- 
 forter, and friend. None of the simple 
 villagers had cared to ask his name, 
 or, when they knew it, to store it in 
 their memory. Perhaps from some 
 vague rumour of his college honours 
 which had been whispered abroad 
 on his first arrival, perhaps because 
 he was an unmarried, uuincumbered 
 gentleman, he had been called the 
 bachelor. The name pleased him, or 
 suited him as well as any other, and 
 the Bachelor he had ever since re- 
 mained. And the bachelor it was, it 
 may be added, who with his own hands 
 had laid in the stock of fuel which the 
 wanderers had found in their new 
 habitations. 
 
 The bachelor, then to call him by 
 his usual appellation lifted the latch, 
 showed his little round mild face for a 
 moment at the door, and stepped into 
 the room like one who was no stranger 
 to it. 
 
 " You are Mr. Marton, the new 
 schoolmaster I " he said, greeting Nell's 
 kind friend. 
 
 " I am, sir." 
 
 " You come well recommended, and 
 I am glad to see you. I should have 
 been in the way yesterday, expecting 
 you, but I rode across the country to 
 carry a message from a sick mother 
 to her daughter in service some milea 
 off, and have but just now returned. 
 This is our young church-keeper ? 
 You are not the less welcome, friend, 
 for her sake, or for this old man's ; 
 nor the worse teacher for having learnt 
 humanity." 
 
 " She has been ill, sir, very lately," 
 said the schoolmaster, in answer to 
 the look with which their visitor re- 
 garded Nell when he had kissed her 
 cheek. 
 
 " Yes, yes. I know she has," he 
 rejoined. " There have been suffering 
 and heartache here." 
 
 " Indeed there have, sir." 
 
 The little old gentleman glanced at 
 the grandfather, and back again at the 
 child, whose hand he took tenderly in 
 his, and held. 
 
 " You will be happier here," he
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 239 
 
 said ; " we will try, at least, to make 
 you so. You have made great im- 
 provements here already. Are they 
 the work of your hands ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " We may make some others not 
 better in themselves, but with better 
 means perhaps," said the bachelor. 
 " Let us see now, let us see." 
 
 Nell accompanied him into the 
 other little rooms, and over both the 
 houses, in which he found various 
 small comforts wanting, which he 
 engaged to supply from a certain col- 
 lection of odds and ends he had at 
 home, and which must have been a 
 very miscellaneous and extensive one, 
 as it comprehended the most opposite 
 articles imaginable. They all came, 
 however, and came without loss of 
 time ; for the little old gentleman, dis- 
 appearing for some five or ten minutes, 
 presently returned, laden with old 
 shelves, rugs, blankets, and other 
 household gear, and followed by a boy 
 tearing a similar load. These being 
 cast on the floor in a promiscuous 
 heap, yielded a quantity of occupation 
 in arranging, erecting, and putting 
 a, way; the superintendence of which 
 task evidently afforded the old gentle- 
 man extreme delight, and engaged him 
 for some time with great briskness and 
 activity. When nothing more was left 
 to be done, he charged the boy to run 
 off and bring his schoolmates to be 
 marshalled before their new master, 
 and solemnly reviewed. 
 
 " As good a set of fellows, Marion, 
 as you 'd wish to see," he said, turning 
 to the schoolmaster when the boy was 
 gone ; " but I don't let 'em know I 
 think so. That wouldn't do, at all." 
 
 The messenger soon returned at the 
 head of a long row of urchins, great 
 and small, who, being confronted by 
 the bachelor at the house door, fell 
 into various convulsions of politeness ; 
 clutching their hats and caps, squeezing 
 them into the smallest possible dimen- 
 sions, and making all manner of bows 
 and scrapes, which the little old gen- 
 tleman contemplated with excessive 
 satisfaction, and expressed his approval 
 of by a great many nods and smiles. 
 
 Indeed, his approbation of the boys 
 was by no means so scrupulously dis- 
 guised as he had led the schoolmaster 
 to suppose, inasmuch as it broke out 
 in sundry loud whispers and confiden- 
 tial remarks which were perfectly 
 audible to them every one. 
 
 " This first boy, schoolmaster," said 
 tiie bachelor, " is John Owen ; a lad 
 of good parts, sir, and frank, honest 
 temper ; but too thoughtless, too play- 
 ful, too light-headed by far. That boy, 
 my good sir, would break his neck 
 with pleasure, and deprive his parents 
 of their chief comfort and between 
 ourselves when you come to see him at 
 hare and hounds, taking the fence and 
 ditch by the finger-post, and sliding 
 down the face of the little quarry, 
 you '11 never forget it. It 's beautiful ! " 
 
 John Owen having been thus re- 
 buked, .and being in perfect possession 
 of the speech aside, the bachelor singled 
 out another boy. 
 
 "Now, look at that lad, sir," said 
 the bachelor. " You see that fellow \ 
 Richard Evans his name is, sir. An 
 amazing boy to learn, blessed with a 
 good memory, and a ready understand- 
 ing, and moreover with a good voice 
 and ear for psalm-singing, in which he 
 is the best among us. Yet, sir, that 
 boy will come to a bad end ; he '11 
 never die in his bed ; he's always 
 falling asleep in church in sermon- 
 time and to tell you the truth, Mr. 
 Marton, I always did the same at his 
 age, and feel quite certain that it was 
 natural to my constitution and I 
 couldn't help it." 
 
 This hopeful pupil edified by the 
 above terrible reproval, the bachelor 
 turned to another. 
 
 " But if we talk of examples to be 
 shunned," said he, "if we come to 
 boys that should be a warning and a 
 beacon to all their fellows, here 's the 
 one, and I hope you won't spare him. 
 This is the lad, sir ; this one with the 
 blue eyes and light hair. This is a 
 swimmer, sir, this fellow a diver, 
 Lord save us ! This is a boy, sir, who 
 had a fancy for plunging into eighteen 
 feet of water, with his clothes on, and 
 bringing up a blind man's dog, who
 
 240 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 was being drowned by the weight of 
 his chain and collar, while his master 
 stood wringing his hands upon the 
 bank, bewailing the loss of his guide 
 jind friend. I sent the boy two guineas 
 anonymously, sir," added the bachelor, 
 in his peculiar whisper, " directly I 
 heard of it ; but never mention it on 
 any account, for he hasn't the least 
 idea that it came from me." 
 
 Having disposed of this culprit, the 
 bachelor turned to another, and from 
 him to another, and so on through the 
 whole array, laying, for their whole- 
 some restriction within due bounds, the 
 name cutting emphasis on such of their 
 propensities as were dearest to his 
 heart and were unquestionably refer- 
 able to his own precept and example. 
 Thoroughly persuaded, in the end, that 
 lie had made them miserable by his 
 severity, he dismissed them with a 
 small present, and an admonition to 
 
 walk quietly home, without any leap- 
 ings, scufflings, or turnings out of the 
 way ; which injunction (he informed 
 the schoolmaster in the same audible 
 confidence) he did not think he could 
 have obeyed when he was a boy, had 
 his life depended on it. 
 
 Hailing these little tokens of the 
 bachelor's disposition as so many assur- 
 ances of his own welcome course front 
 that time, the schoolmaster parted from 
 him with a light heart and joyous 
 spirits, and deemed himself one of the 
 happiest men on earth. The windows 
 of the two old houses were ruddy again, 
 that night, with the reflection of the 
 cheerful fires that burnt within ; and 
 the bachelor and his friend, pausing to 
 look upon them as they returned from 
 their evening walk, spoke softly toge- 
 ther of the beautiful child, and looked 
 round upon the churchyard with a 
 sigh. 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 NELL was stirring early in the morn- 
 ing, and having discharged her house- 
 hold tasks, and put everything in order 
 for the good schoolmaster (though 
 sorely against his will, for he would 
 have spared her the pains), took down, 
 from its nail by the fireside, a little 
 bundle of keys with which the bachelor 
 had formally invested her on the pre- 
 vious day, and went out alone to visit 
 the old church. 
 
 The sky was serene and bright, the 
 air clear, perfumed with the fresh scent 
 of newly-fallen leaves, and grateful to 
 every sense. The neighbouring stream 
 sparkled, and rolled onward with a 
 tuneful sound ; the dew glistened on 
 the green mounds, like tears shed by 
 Good Spirits over the dead. 
 
 Some young children sported among 
 the tombs, and hid from each other, 
 with laughing faces. They had an 
 infant with them, and had laid it down 
 asleep upon a child's grave, in a little 
 
 bed of leaves. It was a new grave 
 the resting-place, perhaps, of some 
 little creature, who, meek and patient 
 in its illness, had often sat and watched 
 them, and now seemed, to their minds, 
 scarcely changed. 
 
 She drew near and asked one of 
 them whose grave it was. The child 
 answered that that was not its name ; 
 it was a garden his brother's. It was 
 greener, he said, than all the other 
 gardens, and the birds loved it better 
 because he had been used to feed 
 them. When he had done speaking, 
 he looked at her with a smile, and 
 kneeling down and nestling for a mo- 
 
 j ment with his cheek against the turf, 
 
 i bounded merrily away. 
 
 I She passed the church, gazing up- 
 
 j ward at its old tower, went through 
 the wicket gate, and so into the village. 
 The old sexton, leaning on a crutch, 
 was taking the air at his cottage door, 
 and gave her good morrow.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 241 
 
 " You are better ? " said the child, 
 stopping to speak with him. 
 
 " Aye surely," returned the old 
 man. " I 'm thankful to say, much 
 better." 
 
 " You will be quite well soon." 
 
 " With Heaven's leave, and a little 
 patience. But come in, come in ! " 
 
 The old man limped on before, and 
 warning her of the downward step, 
 which he achieved himself with no 
 small difficulty, led the way into his 
 little cottage. 
 
 " It is but one room you see. There 
 is another up above, but the stair has 
 got harder to climb o' late years, and 
 I never use it. I 'm thinking of taking 
 to it again, next summer, though." 
 
 The child wondered how a grey- 
 headed man like him one of his trade 
 too could talk of time so easily. He 
 saw her eyes wandering to the tools 
 that hung upon the wall, and smiled. 
 
 "I warrant now," he said, "that 
 you think all those are used in making 
 graves." 
 
 " Indeed, I wondered that you 
 wanted so many." 
 
 " And well you might. I am a gar- 
 dener. I dig the ground, and plant 
 things that are to live and grow. My 
 works don't all moulder away, and rot 
 in the earth. You see that spade in 
 the centre S " 
 
 " The very old one so notched and 
 worn ? Yes." 
 
 " That 's the sexton's spade, and it 's 
 a well-used one, as you see. We 're 
 healthy people here, but it has done a 
 power of work. If it could speak now, 
 that spade, it would tell you of many 
 an unexpected job that it and I have 
 done together ; but I forget 'em, for 
 my memory's a poor one. That's 
 nothing new," he added hastily. " It 
 always was." 
 
 " There are flowers and shrubs to 
 speak to your other work," said the 
 child. 
 
 "Oh yes. And tall trees. But 
 they are not so separated from the 
 sexton's labours as you think." 
 
 N O i 
 
 " Not in my mind, and recollection 
 nch us it is," said the old man. 
 No. 79. 
 
 " Indeed they often help it. For say 
 that I planted such a tree for sucfe a 
 man. There it stands, to remind m& 
 that he died. When I look at its 
 broad shadow, and remember what.it 
 was in his time, it helps me to the age- 
 of my other work, and I can tell ywr 
 pretty nearly when I made his graYe, 
 
 " But it may remind you of one who 
 is still alive," said the child. 
 
 " Of twenty that are dead, in con- 
 nexion with that one who lives, then^* 
 rejoined the old man ; " wife, husbaisdj 
 jarents, brothers, sisters, children, 
 friends a score at least. So it 
 happens that the sexton's spade gets 
 worn and battered.- I shall need & 
 new one next summer." 
 
 The child looked quickly towanfe. 
 him, thinking that he jested with las 
 age and infirmity : but the uncon- 
 scious sexton was quite in earnest. 
 
 " Ah !" he said, after a brief silence. 
 "People never learn. They never 
 learn. It 's only we who turn up the- 
 ground, where nothing grows and 
 everything decays, who think of such 
 things as these who think of them 
 properly, I mean. You have beea 
 into the church ? " 
 
 " I am going there now," the chili 
 replied. 
 
 " There 's an old well there," sat& 
 the sexton, " right underneath tit**- 
 belfry ; a deep, dark, echoing welL 
 Forty year ago, you had only to left 
 down the bucket till the first knot IE. 
 the rope was free of the windlass, an< 
 you heard it splashing in the cold duB 
 water. By little and little the water 
 fell away, so that in ten year after 
 that, a second knot was made, ami 
 you must unwind so much rope, or- 
 the bucket swung tight and empty at 
 the end. In ten years' time, the water- 
 fell again, and a third knot was made 
 In ten year more, the well dried up ;,. 
 and now, if you lower the bucket till 
 your arms are tired and let out nearijr 
 all the cord, you '11 hear it, of a sudden,, 
 clanking and rattling on the ground 
 below ; with a sound of being so deep> 
 and so far down, that your heart leaps, 
 into your mouth, and you start awuj 
 as if you were falling in." 
 
 n 1$
 
 242 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 "A dreadful place to come on in 
 the dark ! " exclaimed the child, who 
 had followed the old man's looks and 
 words until she seemed to stand upon 
 its brink. 
 
 " What is it but a grave ! " said the 
 sexton. " What else ! And which 
 of our old folks, knowing all this, 
 thought, as the spring subsided, of 
 their own failing strength, and lessen- 
 ing life ? Not one ! " 
 
 " Are you very old yourself ? " 
 asked the child, involuntarily. 
 
 " I shall be seventy-nine next 
 summer." 
 
 " You still work when you are 
 well ? " 
 
 "Work! To be sure. You shall 
 see my gardens hereabout. Look at 
 the window there. I made, and have 
 kept, that plot of ground entirely with 
 my own hands. By this time next 
 year I shall hardly see the sky, the 
 boughs will have grown so thick. I 
 have my winter work at night besides." 
 
 He opened, as he spoke, a cupboard 
 close to where he sat, and produced 
 some miniature boxes, carved in a 
 homely manner and made of old wood. 
 
 " Some gentlefolks who are fond of 
 ancient days, and what belongs to 
 them," he said, " like to buy these 
 keepsakes from our church and ruins. 
 Sometimes, I make them of scraps of 
 oak, that turn up here and there ; 
 sometimes of bits of coffins which the 
 vaults have long preserved. See here 
 this is a little chest of the last kind, 
 clasped at the edges with fragments of 
 brass plates that had writing on 'em 
 once, though it would be hard to read 
 it now. I haven't many by me at this 
 time of year, but these shelves will be 
 full next summer." 
 
 The child admired and praised his 
 work, and shortly afterwards departed; 
 thinking, as she went, how strange it 
 was, that this old man, drawing from 
 his pursuits, and everything around 
 him, one stern moral, never contem- 
 plated its application to himself ; and, 
 while he dwelt upon the uncertainty 
 of human life, seemed both in word 
 and deed to deem himself immortal. 
 But her musings did not stop here, 
 
 for she was wise enough to think that 
 by a good and merciful adjustment 
 this must be human nature, and that 
 the old sexton, with his plans for 
 next summer, was but a type of all 
 mankind. 
 
 Full of these meditations, she reached 
 the church. It was easy to find the 
 key belonging to the outer door, for 
 each was labelled on a scrap of yellow 
 parchment. Its very turning in the 
 lock awoke a hollow sound, and when 
 she entered with a faltering step, the 
 echoes that it raised in closing, made 
 her start. 
 
 If the peace of the simple village 
 had moved the child more strongly, 
 because of the dark and troubled 
 ways that lay beyond, and through 
 which she had journeyed with such 
 failing feet, what was the deep im- 
 pression of finding herself alone in 
 that solemn building, where the very 
 light, coming through sunken win- 
 dows, seemed old and grey, and the 
 air, redolent of earth and mould, 
 seemed laden with decay, purified by 
 time of all its grosser particles, and 
 sighing through arch and aisle, and 
 clustered pillars, like the breath of 
 ages gone ! Here was the broken 
 pavement, worn, so long ago, by pious 
 feet, that Time, stealing on the pil- 
 grims' steps, had trodden out their 
 track, and left but crumbling stones. 
 Here were the rotten beam, the sink- 
 ing arch, the sapped and mouldering 
 wall, the lowly trench of earth, the 
 stately tomb on which no epitaph re- 
 mained, all, marble, stone, iron, 
 wood, and dust, one common monu- 
 ment of ruin. The best work and the 
 worst, the plainest and the richest, 
 the stateliest and the least imposing 
 both of Heaven's work and Man's 
 all found one common level here, and 
 told one common tale. 
 
 Some part of the edifice had been a 
 baronial chapel, and here were effigies 
 of warriors stretched upon their beds 
 of stone with folded hands cross- 
 legged, those who had fought in the 
 Holy Wars girded with their swords, 
 and cased in armour as they had lived. 
 Some of these knights had their own
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 243 
 
 weapons, helmets, coats of mail, hang- 
 ing upon the walls hard by, and dang- 
 ling from rusty hooks. Broken and 
 dilapidated as they were, they yet 
 retained their ancient form, and some- 
 thing of their ancient aspect. Thus 
 violent deeds live after men upon the 
 earth, and traces of war and bloodshed 
 will survive in mournful shapes, long 
 after those who worked the desolation 
 are but atoms of earth themselves. 
 
 The child sat down, in this old, silent 
 place, among the stark figures on the 
 tombs they made it more quiet there, 
 than elsewhere, to her fancy and 
 gazing round with a feeling of awe, 
 tempered with a calm delight, felt that 
 now she was happy, and at rest. She 
 took a Bible from the shelf, and read ; 
 then, laying it down, thought of the 
 summer days and the bright spring- 
 time that would come of the rays of 
 sun that would fall in aslant, upon the 
 sleeping forms of the leaves that 
 would flutter at the window, and play 
 in glistening shadows on the pavement 
 of the songs of birds, and growth of 
 buds and blossoms out of doors of 
 the sweet air, that would steal in, and 
 gently wave the tattered banners over- 
 head. What if the spot awakened 
 thoughts of death ! Die who would, 
 it would still remain the same ; these 
 sights and sounds would still go on, as 
 happily as ever. It would be no pain 
 to sleep amidst them. 
 
 She left the chapel very slowly 
 and often turning back to gaze again 
 and coming to a low door, which 
 plainly led into the tower, opened it, 
 and climbed the winding stair in dark- 
 ness ; save where she looked down, 
 through narrow loopholes, on the place 
 she had left, or caught a glimmering 
 vision of the dusty bells. At length 
 
 she gained the end of the ascent and 
 stood upon the turret top. 
 
 Oh ! the glory of the sudden burst 
 of light ; the freshness of the fields 
 and woods, stretching away on every 
 side, and meeting the bright blue sky ; 
 the cattle grazing in the pasturage ; 
 the smoke, that, coming from among 
 the trees, seemed to rise upward from 
 the green earth ; the children yet at 
 their gambols down below all, every- 
 thing, so beautiful and happy ! It was 
 like passing from death to life ; it was 
 drawing nearer Heaven. 
 
 The children were gone, when 
 she emerged into the porch, and 
 locked the door. As she passed the 
 school-house she could hear the busy 
 hum of voices. Her friend had begun 
 his labours only that day. The noise 
 grew louder, and, looking back, she saw 
 the boys come trooping out and dis- 
 perse themselves with merry shouts 
 and play. " It 's a good thing," 
 thought the child, " I am very glad 
 they pass the church." And then she 
 stopped, to fancy how the noise would 
 sound inside, and how gently it would 
 seem to die away upon the ear. 
 
 Again that day, yes, twice again, 
 she stole back to the old chapel, and in 
 her former seat read from the same 
 book, or indulged the same quiet train 
 of thought. Even when it had grown 
 dusk, and the shadows of coming night 
 made it more solemn still, the child 
 remained, like one rooted to the spot, 
 and had no fear or thought of stirring. 
 
 They found her there, at last, and 
 took her home. She looked pale but 
 very happy, until they separated for 
 the night ; and then, as the poor 
 schoolmaster stooped down to kiss her 
 cheek, he thought he felt a tear upon 
 his face. 
 
 R2
 
 244 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 THE bachelor, among his various 
 occupations, found in the old church a 
 constant source of interest and amuse- 
 ment. Taking that pride in it which 
 men conceive for the wonders of their 
 own little world, he had made its his- 
 tory his study ; and many a summer 
 day within its walls, and many a win- 
 ter's night beside the parsonage fire, 
 had found the bachelor still poring over, 
 and adding to, his goodly store of tale 
 and legend. 
 
 As he was not one of those rough 
 spirits who would strip fair Truth of 
 every little shadowy vestment in which 
 time and teeming fancies love to array 
 her and some of which become her 
 pleasantly enough, serving, like the 
 waters of her well, to add new graces 
 to the charms they half conceal and 
 half suggest, and to awaken interest 
 and pursuit rather than languor and 
 indifference as, unlike this stern and 
 obdurate class, he loved to see the 
 goddess crowned with those garlands 
 of wild flowers which tradition wreathes 
 for her gentle wearing, and which are 
 often freshest in their homeliest shapes, 
 lie trod with a light step and bore 
 with a light hand upon the dust of 
 centuries, unwilling to demolish any 
 of the airy shrines that had been raised 
 above it, if any good feeling or affec- 
 tion of the human heart were hiding 
 thereabouts. Thus, in the case of an 
 ancient coffin of rough stone, supposed, 
 for many generations, to contain the 
 bones of a certain baron, who, after 
 ravaging, with cut, and thrust, and 
 plunder, in foreign lands, came back 
 with a penitent and sorrowing heart to 
 die at home, but which had been lately 
 shown by learned antiquaries to be no 
 such thing, as the baron in question 
 (so they contended) had died hard in 
 battle, gnashing his teeth and cursing 
 with his latest breath, the bachelor 
 stoutly maintained that the old tale 
 was the true one ; that the baron, 
 repenting him of the evil, had done 
 great charities and meekly given up the 
 
 ghost ; and that, if ever baron went to 
 heaven, that baron was then at peace. 
 In like manner, when the aforesaid 
 antiquaries did argue and contend that 
 a certain secret vault was not the tomb 
 of a gray-haired lady who had been, 
 hanged and drawn and quartered by 
 glorious Queen Bess for succouring a 
 wretched priest who fainted of thirst 
 and hunger at her door, the bachelox 
 did solemnly maintain, against alt 
 comers, that the church was hallowed 
 by the said poor lady's ashes ; that her 
 remains had been collected in thu 
 night from four of the city's gates, and 
 thither :n secret brought, and there 
 deposited ; and the bachelor did further 
 (being highly excited at such times) 
 deny the glory of Queen Bess, and 
 assert the immeasurably greater glory 
 of the meanest woman in her realm, 
 who had a merciful and tender heart. 
 As to the assertion that the flat stone 
 near the door was not the grave of the 
 miser who had disowned his only-child 
 and left a sum of money to the church 
 to buy a peal of bells, the bachelor did 
 readily admit the same, and that the 
 place had given birth to no such man. 
 In a word, he would have had every 
 stone, and plate of brass, the monument 
 only of deeds whose memory should 
 survive. All others he was willing to 
 forget. They might be buried in con- 
 secrated ground, but he would have 
 had them buried deep, and never 
 brought to light again. 
 
 It was from the lips of such a tutor, 
 that the child learnt her easy task. 
 Already impressed, beyond all telling, 
 by the silent building and the peaceful 
 beauty of the spot in which it stood 
 majestic age surrounded by perpetual 
 youth it seemed to her, when she 
 heard these things, sacred to all good- 
 ness and virtue. It was another world, 
 where sin and sorrow never came ; 
 a tranquil place of rest, where nothing 
 evil entered. 
 
 When the bachelor had given her h 
 connexion with almost every tomb MK
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 245 
 
 flat grave-stone some history of its 
 own, he took her down into the old 
 crypt, now a mere dull vault, and 
 showed her how it had been lighted up 
 in the time of the monks, and how, 
 amid lamps depending from the roof, 
 and swinging censers exhaling scented 
 odours, and habits glittering with gold 
 and silver, and pictures, and precious 
 staffs, and jewels all flashing and 
 glistening through the low arches, the 
 chaunt of aged voices had been many 
 a time heard there, at midnight, in old 
 days, while hooded figures knelt and 
 prayed around, and told their rosaries 
 of beads. Thence, he took her above 
 ground again, and showed her, high 
 up in the old walls, small galleries, 
 where the nuns had been wont to glide 
 along dimly seen in their dark dresses 
 so far off or to pause like gloomy 
 shadows, listening to the prayers. He 
 showed her too, how the warriors, 
 whose figures rested on the tombs, 
 had worn those rotting scraps of 
 armour up above how this had been 
 a helmet, and that a shield, and that a 
 gauntlet and how they had wielded 
 the great two-handed swords, and 
 beaten men down, with yonder iron 
 mace. All that he told the child she 
 treasured in her mind ; and some- 
 times, when she awoke at night from 
 dreams of those old times, and rising 
 from her bed looked out at the dark 
 church, she almost hoped to see the 
 windows lighted up, and hear the 
 organ's swell, and sound of voices, on 
 the rushing wind. 
 
 The old sexton soon got better, and 
 was about again. From him the child 
 learnt many other things, though of a 
 different kind. He was not able to 
 work, but one day there was a grave to- 
 be made, and he came to overlook the 
 man who dug it. He was in a talk- 
 ative mood ; and the child, at first 
 standing by his side, and afterwards 
 sitting on the grass at his feet, with 
 her thoughtful face raised towards his, 
 began to converse with him. 
 
 Now, the man who did the sexton's 
 duty was a little older than he, though 
 much more active. But he was deaf ; 
 and when the sexton (who peradven- 
 
 ture, on a pinch, might have walked a 
 mile with great difficulty in half-a- 
 dozen hours) exchanged a remark 
 with him about his work, the child 
 could not help noticing that he did so 
 with an impatient kind of pity for his 
 infirmity, as if he were himself the 
 strongest and heartiest man alive. 
 
 " I 'm sorry to see there is this to 
 do," said the child, when she ap- 
 proached. " I heard of no one having 
 died." 
 
 " She lived in another hamlet, my 
 dear," returned the sexton. " Three 
 mile away." 
 
 " Was she young ? " 
 
 " Ye yes " said the sexton ; " not 
 more than sixty-four, I think. David, 
 was she more than sixty-four ? " 
 
 David, who was digging hard, heard 
 nothing of the question. The sexton, 
 as he could not reach to touch him 
 with his crutch, and was too infirm 
 to rise without assistance, called his 
 attention by throwing a little mould 
 upon his red nightcap. 
 
 " What 's the matter now ? " said 
 David, looking up. 
 
 " How old was Becky Morgan ? " 
 asked the sexton, 
 
 " Becky Morgan ? " repeated 
 David. 
 
 " Yes," replied the sexton ; adding 
 in a half compassionate, half irritable 
 tone, which the old man couldn't hear, 
 " you 're getting very deaf, Davy, very 
 deaf to be sure ! " 
 
 The old man stopped in his work, 
 and cleansing his spade with a piece 
 of slate he had by him for the purpose 
 and scraping off, in the process, the 
 essence of Heaven knows how many 
 Becky Morgans set himself to con- 
 sider the subject. 
 
 " Let me think " quoth he. " I saw 
 last night what they had put upon the 
 coffin was it seventy-nine ? " 
 
 " No, no," said the sexton. 
 
 " Ah yes, it was though," returned 
 the old man with a sigh. " For I 
 remember thinking she was very near 
 our age. Yes, it was seventy-nine." 
 
 " Are you sure you didn't mistake 
 a figure, Davy ? " asked the sexton, 
 with signs of some emotion.
 
 246 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 " What I " said the old man. Say 
 that again." 
 
 " He 'B very deaf. He 'a very deal 
 indeed," cried the sexton, petulantly ; 
 " are you sure you 're right about' the 
 figures \ " 
 
 "Oh quite," replied the old man. 
 Why not 1 " 
 
 " He 's exceedingly deaf," muttered 
 the sexton to himself. " I think he 's 
 getting foolish." 
 
 The child rather wondered what 
 had led him to this belief, as, to say 
 the truth, the old man seemed quite 
 as sharp as he, and was infinitely 
 more robust. As the sexton said 
 nothing more just then, however, she 
 forgot it for the time, and spoke again. 
 
 " You were telling me," she said, 
 " about your gardening. Do you ever 
 plant things here ? " 
 
 " In the churchyard 1 " returned 
 the sexton, " Not I." 
 
 "I have seen some flowers and 
 little shrubs about," the child re- 
 joined ; " there are some over there, 
 you see. I thought they were of your 
 rearing, though indeed they grow but 
 poorly." 
 
 " They grow as Heaven wills," said 
 the old man ; " and it kindly ordains 
 that they shall never flourish here." 
 
 " I do not understand you." 
 
 " Why, this it is," said the sexton. 
 " They mark the graves of those who 
 had very tender, loving friends." 
 
 " I was sure they did ! " the child 
 exclaimed. " I am very glad to know 
 they do ! " 
 
 " Aye," returned the old man, " but 
 stay. Look at them. See how they 
 hang their heads, and droop, and 
 wither. Do you guess the reason ? " 
 
 " No," the child replied. 
 
 " Because the memory of those who 
 lie below, passes away so soon. At 
 first they tend them, morning, noon, 
 and night ; they soon begin to come 
 less frequently ; from once a day, to 
 once a week ; from once a week to 
 once a month ; then, at long and 
 uncertain intervals ; then, not at all. 
 Such tokens seldom flourish long. I 
 have known the briefest summer 
 flowers outlive them." 
 
 " I grieve to hear it," said the 
 child. 
 
 " Ah ! so say the gentlefolks who 
 come down here to look about them," 
 returned the old mari, shaking his head, 
 " but I say otherwise. ' It 's a pretty 
 custom you have in this part of the 
 country,' they say to me sometimes, 'to 
 plant the graves, but it 's melancholy 
 to see these things all withering or 
 dead.' I crave their pardon and tell 
 them that, as I take it, 'tis a good 
 sign for the happiness of the living. 
 And so it is. It 's nature." 
 
 "Perhaps the mourners learn to 
 look to the blue sky by day, and to 
 the stars by night, and to think 
 that the dead are there, and not in 
 graves," said the child in an earnest 
 voice. 
 
 " Perhaps so," replied the old man 
 doubtfully. " It may be." 
 
 "Whether it be as I believe it 
 is, or no," thought the child within 
 herself, " I '11 make this place my 
 garden. It will be no harm at least 
 to work here day by day, and plea- 
 sant thoughts will come of it, I am 
 sure." 
 
 Her glowing cheek and moistened 
 eye passed unnoticed by the sexton, 
 who turned towards old David, and 
 called him by his name. It was 
 plain that Becky Morgan's age still 
 troubled him ; though why, the child 
 could scarcely understand. 
 
 The second or third repetition of 
 his name attracted the old man's 
 attention. Pausing from his work, 
 he leant on his spade, and put his 
 hand to his dull ear. 
 
 '' Did you call ? " he said. 
 
 '' I have been thinking, Davy," 
 replied the sexton, " that she," he 
 pointed to the grave, " must have 
 been a deal older than you or me." 
 
 Seventy-nine," answered the old 
 man with a shake of the head, " I 
 tell you that I saw it." 
 
 " Saw it ? " replied the sexton ; 
 " aye, but, Davy, women don't always 
 tell the truth about their age." 
 
 " That 's true indeed," said the 
 other old man, with a sudden sparkle in 
 liis eye. " She might have been older."
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 247 
 
 " I 'm sure she must have been. 
 Why, only think how old she looked. 
 You and I seemed but boys to her." 
 
 " She did look old," rejoined 
 David. " You 're right. She did 
 look old." 
 
 " Call to mind how old she looked 
 for many a long, long year, and say 
 if she could be but seventy-nine at 
 last only our age," said the sexton. 
 
 " Five year older at the very least !" 
 cried the other. 
 
 "Five ! " retorted the sexton. "Ten. 
 Good eighty-nine. I call to mind the 
 time her daughter died. She was 
 eighty-nine if she was a day, and tries 
 to pass upon us now, for ten year 
 younger. Oh ! human vanity ! " 
 
 The other old man was not behind- 
 hand with some moral reflections on 
 this fruitful theme, and both adduced 
 a mass of evidence, of such weight as 
 to render it doubtful not whether the 
 deceased was of the age suggested, 
 but whether she had not almost reached 
 the patriarchal term of a hundred. 
 When they had settled this question to 
 their mutual satisfaction, the sexton, 
 with his friend's assistance, rose to go. 
 " It 's chilly, sitting here, and I must 
 be careful till the summer," he said, 
 as he prepared to limp away. 
 " What ? " asked old David. 
 " He 's very deaf, poor fellow ! " 
 cried the sexton. " Good bye." 
 
 " Ah ! " said old David, looking 
 after him. " He 's failing very fast. 
 He ages every day." 
 
 And so they parted ; each persuaded 
 that the other had less life in him than 
 himself ; and both greatly consoled 
 and comforted by the little fiction they 
 had agreed upon, respecting Becky 
 Morgan, whose decease was no longer 
 a precedent of uncomfortable applica- 
 tion, and would be no business of 
 theirs for half-a-score of years to come. 
 The child remained, for some mi- 
 nutes, watching the deaf old man as 
 he threw out the earth with his shovel, 
 and, often stopping to cough and fetch 
 his breath, still muttered to himself, 
 with a kind of sober chuckle, that the 
 sexton was wearing fast. At length 
 she turned away, and walking thought- 
 
 fully through the churchyard, came 
 unexpectedly upon the schoolmaster, 
 who was sitting on a green grave in 
 the sun, reading. 
 
 " Nell here ? " he said cheerfully, as 
 he closed his book. "It does me good 
 to see you hi the ah- and light. I 
 feared you were again in the church, 
 where you so often are." 
 
 " Feared ! " replied the child, sitting 
 down beside him. " Is it not a good 
 place ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes," said the schoolmaster. 
 " But you must be gay sometimes 
 nay, don't shake your head and smile 
 so sadly." 
 
 " Not sadly, if you knew my heart. 
 Do not look at me as if you thought 
 me sorrowful. There is, not a happier 
 creature on the earth, than I am now." 
 
 Full of grateful tenderness, the child 
 took his 'hand, and folded it between 
 her own. " It 's God's will ! " she 
 said, when they had been silent for 
 some time. 
 
 What 1 " 
 
 "All this," she rejoined; "all this 
 about us. But which of us is sad now ? 
 You see that / am smiling." 
 
 "And so am I," said the school- 
 master ; " smiling to think how often 
 we shall laugh in this same place. 
 Were you not talking yonder 2 " 
 
 " Yes," the child rejoined. 
 
 " Of something that has made you 
 sorrowful ? " 
 
 There was a long pause. 
 
 " What was it ? " said the school- 
 master, tenderly. "Come. Tell me 
 what it was." 
 
 " I rather grieve I do rather 
 grieve to think," said the child, burst- 
 ing into tears, "that those who die 
 about us, are so soon forgotten." 
 
 " And do you think," said the school- 
 master, marking the glance she had 
 thrown around, " that an unvisited 
 grave, a withered tree, a faded flower 
 or two, are tokens of forgetfulness or 
 cold neglect ? Do you think there are 
 no deeds, far away from here, in which 
 these dead may be best remembered ? 
 Nell, Nell, there may be people busy 
 in the world, at this instant, hi whose 
 ood actions and good thoughts these
 
 243 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 -wary graves neglected as they look to 
 us are the chief instruments." 
 
 ** Tell me no more," said the child 
 jaickly. " Tell me no more. I feel, 
 1 know it. How could / be unmindful 
 f it, when I thought of you ? " 
 
 *' There is nothing," cried her friend, 
 *<no, nothing innocent or good, that 
 lies, and is forgotten. Let us hold to 
 that faith, or none. An infant, a prat- 
 tling child, dying in its cradle, will live 
 again in the better thoughts of those 
 who loved it, and will play its part, 
 through them, in the redeeming actions 
 of the world, though its body be burnt 
 to ashes or drowned in the deepest sea. 
 There is not an angel added to the 
 Host of Heaven but does its blessed 
 work on earth ^n those that loved it 
 here. Forgotten ! oh, if the good 
 deeds of human creatures could be 
 traced to their source, how beautiful 
 would even death appear ; for how 
 imich charity, mercy, and purified 
 affection, would be seen to have their 
 .growth in dusty graves ! " 
 
 <" Yes," said the child, " it is the 
 truth ; I know it is. Who should feel 
 its force so much as I, in whom your 
 little scholar lives again ! Dear, dear, 
 good friend, if you knew the comfort 
 you have given me ! " 
 
 The poor schoolmaster made her no 
 answer, but bent over her in silence ; 
 for his heart was full. 
 
 They were yet seated in the same 
 place,when the grandfather approached. 
 Before they had spoken many words 
 together, the church clock struck the 
 hour of school, and their friend with- 
 drew. 
 
 " A good man," said the grand- 
 father, looking after him ; " a kind 
 man. Surely he will never harm us, 
 Nell. We are safe here, at last eh ? 
 We will never go away from here ? " 
 
 The child shook her head and 
 
 " She needs rest," said the old man, 
 patting her cheek; "too pale too 
 jxile. She is not like what she was ? " 
 
 " When ? " asked the child. 
 
 ** Ha ! " said the old man, " to be 
 swre when ? How many weeks ago ? 
 Could I count them on my fingers 1 
 
 Let them rest though ; they 're better 
 gone." 
 
 "Much better, dear," replied the 
 child. " We will forget them ; or, if 
 we ever call them to mind, it shall be 
 only as some uneasy dream that has 
 passed away." 
 
 " Hush ! " said the old man, motion- 
 ing hastily to her with his hand and 
 looking over his shoulder ; " no more 
 talk of the dream, and all the miseries 
 it brought. There are no dreams 
 here. 'Tis a quiet place, and they 
 keep away. Let us never think about 
 them, lest they should pursue us again. 
 Sunken eyes and hollow cheeks wet, 
 cold, and famine and horrors before 
 them all, that were even worse we 
 must forget such things if we would be 
 tranquil here." 
 
 " Thank Heaven ! " inwardly ex- 
 claimed the child, " for this most 
 happy change ! " 
 
 " I will be patient," said the old 
 man, "humble, very thankful and 
 obedient, if you will let me stay. But 
 do not hide from me ; do not steal 
 away alone ; let me keep beside you. 
 Indeed, I will be very true and faith- 
 ful, Nell." 
 
 " I steal away alone ! why that," 
 replied the child, with assumed gaiety, 
 " would be a pleasant jest indeed. See 
 here, dear grandfather, we'll make 
 this place our garden why not ! It 
 is a very good one and to-morrow 
 we '11 begin, and work together, side 
 by side." 
 
 " It is a brave thought ! " cried her 
 grandfather. " Mind, darling we be- 
 gin to-morrow ! " 
 
 Who so delighted as the old man, 
 when they next day began their labour ! 
 Who so unconscious of all associations 
 connected with the spot, as he ! They 
 plucked the long grass and nettles from 
 the tombs, thinned the poor shrubs 
 and roots, made the turf smooth, and 
 cleared it of the leaves and weeds. 
 They were yet in the ardour of their 
 work, when the child, raising her head 
 from the ground over which she bent, 
 observed that the bachelor was sitting 
 on the stile close by, watching them in 
 silence.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 249 
 
 A kind office," said the little gen- 
 tleman, nodding to Nell as she curt- 
 seyed to him. " Have you done all 
 that, this morning 3 " 
 
 " It is very little, sir," returned the 
 child, with downcast eyes, " to what 
 we mean to do." 
 
 " Good work, good work," said the 
 bachelor. " But do you only labour at 
 the graves of children, and young 
 people * " 
 
 " We shall come to the others in 
 good time, sir," replied Nell, turning 
 her head aside, and speaking softly. 
 
 It was a slight incident, and might 
 have been design, or accident, or the 
 child's unconscious sympathy with 
 youth. But it seemed to strike upon 
 her grandfather, though he had not 
 noticed it before. He looked in a 
 
 hurried manner at the graves, then 
 anxiously at the child, then pressed her 
 to his side, and bade her stop to rest. 
 Something he had long forgotten, ap- 
 peared to struggle faintly in his mind.. 
 It did not pass away, as weightier 
 things had done ; but came uppermost 
 again, and yet again, and many times 
 that day, and often afterwards. Once, 
 while they were yet at work, the child, 
 seeing that he often turned and looked 
 uneasily at her, as though he were 
 trying to resolve some painful doubts 
 or collect some scattered thoughts, 
 urged him to tell the reason. But he 
 said it was nothing nothing and, 
 laying her head upon his arm, patted 
 her fair cheek with his hand, and mut- 
 tered that she grew stronger every 
 day, and would be a woman, soon. 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 FROM that time, there sprung up hi 
 the old man's mind, a solicitude about 
 the child which never slept or left him. 
 There are chords in the human heart 
 strange, varying strings which are 
 only struck by accident ; which will 
 
 what he owed her, and what those 
 miseries had made her. Never, no, 
 never once, in one unguarded moment 
 from that time to the end, did any care 
 for himself, any thought of his own 
 comfort, any selfish consideration or 
 
 remain mute and senseless to appeals | regard, distract his thoughts from the 
 
 the most passionate and earnest, and 
 respond at last to the slightest casual 
 touch. In the most insensible or 
 childish minds, there ^s some train of 
 reflection which art can seldom lead, 
 or skill assist, but which will reveal 
 itself, as great truths have done, by 
 chance, and* when the discoverer has 
 the plainest and simplest end in view. 
 
 gentle object of his love. 
 
 He would follow her up and down, 
 waiting till she should tire and lean 
 upon his arm he would sit opposite 
 to her in the chimney-corner, content 
 to watch, and look, until she raised her 
 head and smiled upon him as of old 
 he would discharge by stealth, those 
 household duties which tasked her 
 
 From that time, the old man never, for powers too heavily he would rise, in 
 a moment, forgot the weakness and the cold dark nights, to listen to her 
 devotion of the child ; from the time j breathing in her sleep, and sometimes 
 
 of that slight incident, he, who had 
 seen her toiling by his side through so 
 much difficulty and suffering, and had 
 scarcely thought of her otherwise than 
 as the partner of miseries which he 
 felt severely in his own person, and 
 deplored for his own sake at least as 
 
 crouch for hours by her bedside only 
 to touch her hand. He who knows all, 
 can only know what hopes, and fears, 
 and thoughts of deep affection, were in 
 'that one disordered brain, and what a 
 change had fallen on the poor old man. 
 Sometimes weeks had crept on, 
 
 much as hers, awoke to a sense of then the child, exhausted, though
 
 250 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 with little fatigue, would pass whole 
 evenings on a couch beside the fire. 
 At such times, the schoolmaster would 
 bring in books, and read to her aloud ; 
 and seldom an evening passed, but the 
 .bachelor came in, and took his turn of 
 reading. The old man sat and listened, 
 with little understanding for the 
 words, but with his eyes fixed upon 
 the child, and if she smiled or 
 brightened with the story, he would 
 say it was a good one, and conceive a 
 fondness for the very book. When, in 
 their evening talk, the bachelor told 
 some tale that pleased her (as his 
 tales were sure to do), the old man 
 would painfully try to store it in his 
 mind ; nay, when the bachelor left 
 them, he would sometimes slip out 
 after him, and humbly beg that he 
 would tell him such a part again, that 
 he might learn to win a smile from Nell. 
 
 But these were rare occasions, 
 happily ; for the child yearned to be 
 out of doors, and walking in her solemn 
 garden. Parties, too, would come to 
 see the church ; and those who came, 
 speaking to others of the child, sent 
 more ; so even at that season of the 
 yea* they had visitors almost daily. 
 The old man would follow them at a 
 little distance through the building, 
 listening to the voice he loved so well ; 
 and when the strangers left, and parted 
 from Nell, he would mingle with them 
 to catch up fragments of their conver- 
 sation ; or he would stand for the same 
 purpose, with his grey head uncovered, 
 at the gate, as they passed through. 
 
 They always praised the child, her 
 sense and beauty, and he was proud 
 to hear them ! But what was that, so 
 often added, which wrung his heart, 
 and made him sob and weep alone, in 
 some dull corner ! Alas ! even care- 
 less strangers they who had no feel- 
 ing for her, but the interest of the 
 moment they who would go away and 
 forget next week that such a being 
 lived even they saw it even they 
 pitied her even they bade him good 
 day compassionately, and whispered as 
 they passed. 
 
 The people of the village, too, of 
 whom there was not one but grew to 
 
 have a fondness for poor Nell ; even 
 among them, there was the same feel- 
 ing ; a tenderness towards her a 
 compassionate regard for her, increas- 
 ing every day. The very schoolboys, 
 light-hearted and thoughtless as they 
 were, even they cared for her. The 
 roughest among them was sorry if he 
 missed her in the usual place upon his 
 way to school, and would turn out of 
 the path to ask for her at the latticed 
 window. If she were sitting in the 
 church, they perhaps might peep in 
 softly at the open door ; but they 
 never spoke to her, unless she rose 
 and went to speak to them. Some 
 feeling was abroad which raised the 
 child above them all. 
 
 So, when Sunday came. They were 
 all poor country people in the church, 
 for the castle in which the old family 
 had lived, was an empty ruin, and 
 there were none but humble folks for 
 seven miles around. There, as else- 
 where, .they had an interest in Nell. 
 They would gather round her in the 
 porch, before and after service ; young 
 children would cluster at her skirts ; 
 and aged men and women forsake 
 their gossips, to give her kindly greet- 
 ing. None of them, young or old, 
 thought of passing the child without a 
 friendly word. Many who came from 
 three or four miles distant, brought 
 her little presents ; the humblest and 
 rudest had good wishes to bestow. 
 
 She had sought out the young chil- 
 dren whom she first saw playing in the 
 churchyard. One of these he who 
 had spoken of his brother was her 
 little favourite and friend, and often 
 sat by her side in the church, of 
 climbed with her to the tower-top. It 
 ivas his delight to help her, or to fancy 
 that he did so, and they soon became 
 close companions. 
 
 It happened, that, as she was read- 
 ing in the old spot by herself one day, 
 this child came running in with his 
 eyes full of tears, and after holding her 
 from him, and looking at her eagerly 
 for a moment, clasped his little arms 
 passionately about her neck. 
 
 " What now ? " said Nell, soothing 
 him. What is the matter 1 "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 251 
 
 " She is not one yet ! " cried the 
 boy, embracing her still more closely. 
 " No, no. Not yet." 
 
 She looked at him wonderingly, and 
 putting his hair back from his face, and 
 kissing him, asked what he meant. 
 
 " You must not be one, dear Nell," 
 cried the boy. " We can't see them. 
 They never come to play with us, or 
 talk to us. Be what you are. You 
 are better so." 
 
 "I do not understand you," said 
 the child. " Teh 1 me what you mean." 
 
 " Why, they say," replied the boy, 
 looking up into her face, "that you 
 will be an Angel, before the birds sing 
 again. But you won't be, will you I 
 Don't leave us Nell, though the sky is 
 bright Do not leave us ! " 
 
 The child dropped her head, and put 
 her hands before her face. 
 
 " She cannot bear the thought ! " 
 cried the boy, exulting through his 
 tears. " You will not go. You know 
 how sorry we should be. Dear Nell, 
 tell me that you '11 stay amongst us. 
 Oh ! Pray, pray, tell me that you will." 
 
 The little creature folded his hands, 
 and knelt down at her feet. 
 
 " Only look at me, Nell," said the 
 boy, "and tell me that you'll stop, and 
 then I shall know that they are wrong, 
 and will cry no more. Won't you say 
 yes, Nell?" 
 
 Still the drooping head and hidden 
 face, and the child quite silent save 
 for her sobs. 
 
 " After a time," pursued the boy, 
 trying to draw away her hand, " the 
 kind angels will be glad to think that 
 you are not among them, and that you 
 stayed here to be with us. Willy went 
 away, to join them ; but if he had 
 known how I should miss him in our 
 little bed at night, he never would have 
 left me, I am sure." 
 
 Yet the child could make him no 
 answer, and sobbed as though her 
 heart were bursting. 
 
 " Why would you go, dear Nell ? 
 I know you would not be happy when 
 you heard that we were crying for 
 your loss. They say that Willy is in 
 Heaven now, and that it 's always 
 summer there, and yet I 'm sure he 
 
 grieves when I lie down upon his gar- 
 den bed, and he cannot turn to kiss 
 me. But if you do go, Nell," said the 
 boy, caressing her, and pressing his 
 face to hers, " be fond of him for my 
 sake. Tell him how I love him still, 
 and how much I loved you ; and when 
 I think that you two are together, and 
 are happy, I '11 try to bear it, and 
 never give you pain by doing wrong 
 indeed I never will ! " 
 
 The child suffered him to move her 
 hands, and put them round his neck. 
 There was a tearful silence, but it was 
 not long before she looked upon him 
 with a smile, and promised him, in a 
 very gentle quiet voice, that she would 
 stay, and be his friend, as long as 
 Heaven would let her. He clapped 
 his hands for joy, and thanked her 
 many times ; and being charged to tell 
 no person what had passed between 
 them, gave her an earnest promise 
 that he never would. 
 
 Nor did he, so far as the child could 
 learn ; but was her quiet companion 
 in all her walks and musings, and 
 never again adverted to the theme, 
 which he felt had given her pain, 
 although he was unconscious of its 
 cause. Something of distrust lingered 
 about him still ; for he would often 
 come, even in the dark evenings, and 
 call in a timid voice outside the door 
 to know if she were safe within ; and 
 being answered yes, and bade to enter, 
 would take his station on a low stool at 
 her feet, and sit there patiently until 
 they came to seek, and take him home. 
 Sure as the morning came, it found 
 him lingering near the house to ask if 
 she were well ; and, morning, noon, or 
 night, go where she would, he would 
 forsake his playmates and his sports to 
 bear her company. 
 
 " And a good little friend he is, too,*' 
 said the old sexton to her once. " When 
 his elder brother died elder seems a 
 strange word, for he was only seven 
 year old I remember this one took it 
 sorely to heart." 
 
 The child thought f what the school- 
 master had told her, and felt how its 
 truth was shadowed out even in this 
 infant.
 
 252 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 " It has given him something of a 
 quiet way, I think," said the old man, 
 " though for that he is merry enough 
 at times.' I 'd wager now that you 
 and he have been listening by the old 
 well." 
 
 " Indeed we have not," the child re- 
 plied.- "I have been afraid to go 
 near it ; for I am not often down in 
 that part of the church, and do not 
 know the ground." 
 
 " Come down with me," said the old 
 man. " I have known it from a boy. 
 Come ! " 
 
 They descended the narrow steps 
 which led into the crypt, and paused 
 among the gloomy arches, in a dim 
 and murky spot. 
 
 " This is the place," said the old 
 man. " Give me your hand while 
 you throw back the cover, lest you 
 should stumble and fall in. I am too 
 old I mean rheumatic to stoop, 
 myself." 
 
 " A black and dreadful place ! " ex- 
 claimed the child. 
 
 " Look in," said the old man, point- 
 ing downward with his finger. 
 
 The child complied, and gazed down 
 into the pit. 
 
 " It looks like a grave itself," said 
 the old man. 
 
 " It does," replied the child. 
 
 " I have often had the fancy," said 
 the sexton, " that it might have been 
 dug at first to make the old place 
 more gloomy, and the old monks more 
 religious. It's to be closed up, and 
 built over." 
 
 The child still stood, looking thought- 
 fully into the vault. 
 
 " We shall see," said the sexton, 
 " on what gay heads other earth will 
 have closed, when the light is shut out 
 from here. God knows ! They '11 
 close it up, next spring." 
 
 " The birds sing again in spring," 
 thought the child, as she leaned at her 
 casement window, and gazed at the 
 declining sun. " Spring ! a beautiful 
 and happy time ! " 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 A DAY or two after the Quilp tea- 
 party at .the Wilderness, Mr. Swiveller 
 walked into Sampson Brass's office at 
 the usual hour, and being alone in that 
 Temple of Probity, placed his hat upon 
 the desk, and taking from his pocket 
 a small parcel of black crape, applied 
 himself to folding and pinning the 
 same upon it, after the manner of 
 a hatband. Having completed the 
 construction of this appendage, he 
 surveyed his work with great compla- 
 cency, and put his hat on again 
 very much over one eye, to increase 
 the mournfulness of the effect. These 
 arrangements perfected to his entire 
 satisfaction, he thrust his hands into 
 his pockets, and walked up and down 
 the office with measured steps. 
 
 " It has always been the same with 
 
 me," said Mr. Swiveller, " always. 
 'Twas ever thus, from childhood's 
 hour I 've seen my fondest hopes de- 
 cay, I never lo\ ed a tree or flower but 
 'twas the first to fade away ; I never 
 nursed a dear Gazelle, to glad me with 
 its soft black eye, but when it came to 
 know me well, and love me, it was 
 sure to marry a market-gardener." 
 
 Overpowered by these reflections, 
 Mr. Swiveller stopped short at the 
 clients' chair, and flung himself into 
 its open arms. 
 
 " And this," said Mr. Swiveller, with 
 a kind of bantering composure, " is 
 life, L believe. Oh, certainly. Why 
 not ! I 'm quite satisfied. I shall 
 wear," added Richard, taking off his 
 hat again and looking hard at it, as if 
 he were only deterred by pecuniary
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 253 
 
 considerations from spurning it with 
 his foot, " I shall wear this emblem of 
 woman's perfidy, in remembrance of 
 her with whom I shall never again 
 thread the windings of the mazy ; 
 whom I shall never more pledge in 
 the rosy ; who, during the short re- 
 mainder of my existence, will murder 
 the balmy. Ha, ha, ha ! " 
 
 It may be necessary to observe, lest 
 there should appear any incongruity in 
 the close of this soliloquy, that Mr. 
 Swiveller did not wind up with a cheer- 
 ful hilarious laugh, which would have 
 been undoubtedly at variance with his 
 solemn reflections, but that, being in a 
 theatrical mood, he merely achieved 
 that performance which is designated 
 in melo-dramas "laughing like a fiend," 
 for it seems that your fiends always 
 laugh in syllables, and always in three 
 syllables, never more nor less, which 
 is a remarkable property in such 
 gentry, and one worthy of remem- 
 brance. 
 
 The baleful sounds had hardly died 
 away, and Mr. Swiveller was still sit- 
 ting in a very grim state hi the clients' 
 chair, when there came a ring or, if 
 we may adapt the sound to his then 
 humour, a knell at the office bell. 
 Opening the door with all speed, he 
 beheld the expressive countenance of 
 Mr. Chuckster, between whom and 
 himself a fraternal greeting ensued. 
 
 u You 're devilish early at this pesti- 
 ferous old slaughter-house," said that 
 gentleman, poising himself on one leg, 
 and shaking the other in an easy 
 manner. 
 
 " Rather," returned Dick. 
 
 " Rather ! " retorted Mr. Chuckster, 
 with that air of graceful trifling which 
 so well became him. " / should think 
 so. Why, my good feller, do you know 
 what o'clock it is half-past nine a. m. 
 in the morning ? " 
 
 " Won't you come in ? " said Dick. 
 "All alone. Swiveller solus. '"Tis 
 now the witching ' " 
 
 Hour of night ! ' " 
 
 " ' When churchyards yawn, ' " 
 
 " ' And graves give up their dead.' " 
 
 At the end of this quotation hi 
 dialogue, each gentleman struck an 
 
 attitude, and immediately subsiding 
 into prose walked into the office. Such 
 morsels of enthusiasm were common 
 among the Glorious A polios, and were 
 indeed the links that bound them 
 together, and raised them above the 
 cold dull earth. 
 
 " Well, and how are you my buck ? " 
 said Mr. Chuckster, taking a stool. ** I 
 was forced to come into the city upon 
 some little private matters of my own y 
 and couldn't pass the corner of the 
 street without looking in, but upon my 
 soul I didn't expect to find you. It is 
 so everlastingly early." 
 
 Mr. Swiveller expressed his ac- 
 knowledgments ; and it appearing on 
 further conversation that he was in 
 good health, and that Mr. Chuckster 
 was hi the like enviable condition, 
 both gentlemen, in compliance with a 
 solemn custom of the ancient Brother- 
 hood to which they belonged, joined in 
 a fragment of the popular duet of 
 " Ah" 's Well," with a long shake at 
 the end. 
 
 " And what 's the news ? " said 
 Richard. 
 
 " The town's as flat, my dear feller," 
 replied Mr. Chuckster, "as the sur- 
 face of a Dutch oven. There 's no 
 news. By-the-bye, that lodger of 
 yours is a most extraordinary person. 
 He quite eludes the most vigorous 
 comprehension, you know. Never 
 was such a feller ! " 
 
 " What has he been doing now ? " 
 said Dick. 
 
 " By Jove, sir," returned Mr. Chuck- 
 ster, taking out an oblong snuff-box, 
 the lid whereof was ornamented with 
 a fox's head curiously carved in brass, 
 "that man is an unfathomable. Sir, 
 that man has made friends with our 
 articled clerk. There's no harm hi 
 him, but he is so amazingly slow and 
 soft. Now, if he wanted a friend, 
 why couldn't he have one that knew a 
 thing or two, and could do him some 
 good by his manners and conversa- 
 tion. I have my faults, sir," said Mr. 
 Chuckster. 
 
 " No, no," interposed Mr. Swiveller. 
 
 " Oh yes I have, I have my faults, 
 no man knows his faults better than I
 
 254 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 know mine. But," said Mr. Chuck- 
 ster, " I 'm not meek. My worst 
 enemies every man has his enemies, 
 sir, and I have mine never accused 
 me of being meek. And I tell you 
 what, sir, if I hadn't more of these 
 qualities that commonly endear man 
 to man, than our articled clerk has, 
 I 'd steal a Cheshire cheese, tie it 
 round my neck, and drown myself. 
 I 'd die degraded, as I had lived. I 
 would upon my honour." 
 
 Mr. Chuckster paused, rapped the 
 fox's head exactly on the nose with 
 the knuckle of the fore-finger, took a 
 pinch of snuff, and looked steadily at 
 Mr. Swiveller, as much as to say that if 
 he thought he was going to sneeze, he 
 would find himself mistaken. 
 
 " Not contented, sir," said Mr. 
 Chuckster, " with making friends with 
 Abel, he lias cultivated the acquaint- 
 ance of his father and mother. Since 
 he came home from that wild-goose 
 chase, he has been there actually 
 been there. He patronises young 
 Snobby besides ; you '11 find, sir, that 
 he '11 be constantly coming backwards 
 and forwards to this place : yet I 
 don't suppose that beyond the common 
 forms of civility, he has ever ex- 
 changed half-a-dozen words with me. 
 Now, upon my soul, you know," said 
 Mr. Chuckster, shaking his head 
 gravely, as men are wont to do when 
 they consider things are going a little 
 too far, "this is altogether such a low- 
 minded affair, that if I didn't feel for 
 the governor, and know that he could 
 never get on without me, I should be 
 obliged to cut the connexion. I should 
 have no alternative." 
 
 Mr. Swiveller, who sat on another 
 stool opposite to his friend, stirred the 
 fire in an excess of sympathy, but 
 said nothing. 
 
 " As to young Snob, sir," pursued 
 Mr. Chuckster with a prophetic look, 
 " you '11 find he '11 turn out bad. In 
 our profession we know something of 
 human nature, and take my word for 
 it, that the feller that came back to 
 work out that shilling, will show himself 
 one of these days in his true colours. 
 He 's a low thief, sir. He must be." 
 
 Mr. Chuckster being roused, would 
 probably have pursued this subject 
 further, and in more emphatic lan- 
 guage, but for a tap at the door, 
 which seeming to announce the arrival 
 of somebody on business, caused him 
 to assume a greater appearance of 
 meekness than was perhaps quite 
 consistent with his late declaration. 
 Mr. Swiveller, hearing the same sound, 
 caused his stool to revolve rapidly on 
 one leg until it brought him to his 
 desk, into which, having forgotten in 
 the sudden flurry of his spirits to 
 part with the poker, he thrust it as he 
 cried " Come in ! " 
 
 Who should present himself but 
 that very Kit who had been the theme 
 of Mr. Chuckster's wrath ! Never 
 did man pluck up his courage so 
 quickly, or look so fierce, as Mr. 
 Chuckster when he found it was he. 
 Mr. Swiveller stared a,t him for a 
 moment, and then leaping from his 
 stool, and drawing out the poker from 
 its place of concealment, performed 
 the broad-sword exercise with all the 
 cuts and guards complete, in a species 
 of frenzy. 
 
 " Is the gentleman at home ? " said 
 Kit, rather astonished by this uncom- 
 mon reception. 
 
 Before Mr. Swiveller could make 
 any reply, Mr. Chuckster took occa- 
 sion to enter his indignant protest 
 against this form of inquiry ; which 
 he held to be of a disrespectful and 
 snobbish tendency, inasmuch as the 
 inquirer, seeing two gentlemen then 
 and there present, should have spoken 
 of the other gentleman; or rather (for 
 it was not impossible that the object of 
 his search might be of inferior quality) 
 should have mentioned his name, 
 leaving it to his hearers to determine 
 his degree as they thought proper. 
 Mr. Chuckster likewise remarked, 
 that he had some reason to believe 
 this form of address was personal 
 to himself, and that he was not a 
 man to be trifled with as certain 
 snobs (whom he did not more par- 
 ticularly mention or describe) might 
 find to their cost. 
 
 " I mean the gentleman up-stairs,"
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 255 
 
 said Kit, turning to Richard Swiveller. 
 " Is he at home ? " 
 
 " Why ? " rejoined Dick. 
 
 " Because if he is, I have a letter 
 for him." 
 
 " From whom !" said Dick. 
 
 " From Mr. Garland." 
 
 "Oh !" said Dick, with extreme polite- 
 ness. " Then you may hand it over, sir. 
 And if you 're to wait for an answer, 
 sir, you may wait in the passage, sir, 
 which is an airy and well- ventilated 
 apartment, sir." 
 
 Thank you," returned Kit. " But 
 I am to give it to himself, if you 
 please." 
 
 The excessive audacity of this re- 
 tort so overpowered Mr. Chuckster, 
 and so moved his tender regard for 
 his friend's honour, that he declared, 
 if he were not restrained by official 
 considerations, he must certainly have 
 annihilated Kit upon the spot ; a re- 
 sentment of the affront which he did 
 consider, tinder the extraordinary cir- 
 cumstances of aggravation attending 
 it, could not but have met with the 
 proper sanction and approval of a jury 
 of Englishmen, who, he had no doubt, 
 would have returned a verdict of Jus- 
 tifiable Homicide, coupled with a high 
 testimony to the morals and character 
 of the Avenger. Mr. Swiveller, with- 
 out being quite so hot upon the matter, 
 was rather shamed by his friend's 
 excitement, and not a little puzzled 
 how to act (Kit being quite cool and 
 good-humoured), when the single gen- 
 tleman was heard to call violently 
 down the stairs. 
 
 " Didn't I see somebody for me, 
 come in ? " cried the lodger. 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Dick. "Cer- 
 tainly, sir." 
 
 " Then where is he ? " roared the 
 single gentleman. 
 
 " He 's here, sir," rejoined Mr. 
 Swiveller. " Now young man, don't 
 you hear you 're to go up-stairs ? Are 
 you deaf ? " 
 
 Kit did not appear to think it 
 worth his while to enter into any 
 altercation, but hurried off and left 
 the Glorious Apollos gazing at each 
 other in silence. 
 
 " Didn't I tell you so ? " said Mr. 
 Chuckster. "What do you think of 
 that?" 
 
 Mr. Swiveller being in the main a 
 good-natured fellow, and not perceiv- 
 ing in the conduct of Kit any villany 
 of enormous magnitude, scarcely knew 
 what answer to return. He was re- 
 lieved from his perplexity, however, 
 by the entrance of Mr. Sampson and 
 his sister, Sally, at sight of whom Mr. 
 Chuckster precipitately retired. 
 
 Mr. Brass and his lovely companion 
 appeared to have been holding a con- 
 sultation over their temperate break- 
 fast, upon some matter of great in- 
 terest and importance. On the occa- 
 sion of such conferences, they generally 
 appeared in the office some half an 
 hour after their usual time, and in a 
 very smiling state, as though their late 
 plots and designs had tranquillised 
 their minds and shed a light upon 
 their toilsome way. In the present 
 instance, they seemed particularly 
 gay ; Miss Sally's aspect being of a 
 most oily kind, and Mr. Brass rubbing 
 his hands in an exceedingly jocose 
 and light-hearted manner. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Richard," said Brass. 
 " How are we this morning ? Are we 
 pretty fresh and cheerful sir eh, Mr. 
 Richard ? " 
 
 " Pretty well sir," replied Dick. 
 
 "That's well," said Brass. "Ha 
 ha ! We should be as gay as larks Mr. 
 Richard why not ? It's a pleasant 
 world we live in sir, a very pleasant 
 world. There are bad people in it 
 Mr. Richard, but if there were no bad 
 people, there would be no good law- 
 yers. Ha ha! Any letters by the 
 post this morning, Mr. Richard ? " 
 
 Mr. Swiveller answered in the 
 negative. 
 
 " Ha ! " said Brass, "no matter. If 
 there 's little business to-day, there '11 
 be more to-morrow. A contented 
 spirit, Mr. Richard, is the sweetness 
 of existence. Anybody been here, 
 sir!" 
 
 " Only my friend " replied Dick. 
 " ' May we ne'er want a ' " 
 
 " ' Friend,' " Brass chimed in quickly, 
 " ' or a bottle to give him. 1 Ha ha !
 
 256 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 That 's the way the so;ig runs,isn't it ? 
 A very good song, Mr. Richard, very 
 good. I like the sentiment of it. Ha 
 ha ! Your friend 's the young man 
 from Witherden's office I think yes 
 ' May we ne'er want a ' Nobody 
 else at all, been, Mr. Richard ? " 
 
 " Only somebody to the lodger," 
 replied Mr. Swiveller. 
 
 "Oh indeed ! " cried Brass. " Some- 
 body to the lodger, eh ? Ha ha ! ' May 
 we ne'er want a friend, or a ' Some- 
 body to the lodger, eh Mr. Richard ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Dick, a little discon- 
 certed by the excessive buoyancy of 
 spirits which his employer displayed. 
 With him now." 
 
 " With him now ! " cried Brass ; 
 " Ha ha ! There let 'em be, merry 
 and free, toor rul lol le. Eh, Mr. 
 Richard? Ha ha!" 
 
 " Oh certainly," replied Dick. 
 
 " And who," said Brass, shuffling 
 among his papers, " who is the lodger's 
 visitor not a lady visitor I hope, oh 
 Mr. Richard ? The morals of the 
 Maries you know sir ' when lovely 
 woman stoops to folly ' and all that 
 eh Mr. Richard ? " 
 
 " Another young man, who belongs 
 to Witherden's too, or half belongs 
 there," returned Richard. " Kit, they 
 call him." 
 
 " Kit, eh ! " said Brass. " Strange 
 name name 'of a dancing-master's 
 fiddle, eh Mr. Richard ? Ha ha ! 
 Kit 's there, is he ? Oh ! " 
 
 Dick looked at Miss Sally, wonder- 
 ing that she didn't check this uncom- 
 mon exuberance on the part of Mr. 
 Sampson ; but as she made no attempt 
 to do so, and rather appeared to ex- 
 hibit a tacit acquiescence in it, he con- 
 cluded that they had just been cheat- 
 ing somebody, and receiving the bill. 
 
 " Will you have the goodness, Mr. 
 Richard," said Brass, taking a letter 
 from his desk, "just to step over to 
 Peckham Rye with that ? There 's no 
 answer, but it 's rather particular and 
 should go by hand. Charge the office 
 with your coach-hire back, you know ; 
 don't spare the office ; get as much 
 out of it as you can clerk's motto 
 Eh Mr. Richard * Ha ha ! " 
 
 Mr. Swiveller solemnly doffed the 
 aquatic jacket, put on his coat, took 
 down his hat from its peg, pocketed 
 the letter, and departed. As soon as 
 he was gone, uprose Miss Sally Brass, 
 and smiling sweetly at her brother 
 (who nodded and smote his nose in 
 return) withdrew also. 
 
 Sampson Brass was no sooner left 
 alone, than he set the office-door wide 
 open, and establishing himself at his 
 desk directly opposite, so that he could 
 not fail to see anybody who came 
 down-stairs and passed out at the 
 street door, began to write with ex- 
 treme cheerfulness and assiduity ; 
 humming as he did so, in a voice that 
 was anything but musical, certain 
 vocal snatches which appeared to have 
 reference to the union between Church 
 and State, inasmuch as they were 
 compounded of the Evening Hymn 
 and God save the King. 
 
 Thus, the attorney of Bevis Marks 
 sat, and wrote, and hummed, for a 
 long time, except when he stopped to 
 listen with a very cunning face, and 
 hearing nothing, went on humming 
 louder, and writing slower than ever. 
 At length, in one of these pauses, ho 
 heard his lodger's door opened and 
 shut, and footsteps coming down the 
 stairs. Then, Mr. Brass left off writ- 
 ing entirely, and, with his pen in his 
 hand, hummed his very loudest ; shak- 
 ing his head meanwhile from side to 
 side, like a man whose whole soul was 
 in the music, and smiling in a manner 
 quite seraphic. 
 
 It was towards this moving spectacle 
 that the staircase and the sweet sounds 
 guided Kit : on whose arrival before 
 his door, Mr. Brass stopped his singing, 
 but not his smiling,and nodded affably : 
 at the same time beckoning to him 
 with his pen. 
 
 " Kit," said Mr. Brass, in the plea- 
 santest way imaginable, " how do you 
 do?" 
 
 Kit, being rather shy of his friend, 
 made a suitable reply, and had his 
 hand upon the lock of the street door 
 when Mr. Brass called him softly back. 
 
 " You are not to go, if you please, 
 Kit," ?aid the attorney in a mysterious
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 257 
 
 and yet business-like way. " You are 
 to step in here, if you please. Dear 
 me, dear me ! When I look at you," 
 said the lawyer, quitting his stool, and 
 standing before the fire with his back 
 towards it, " I am reminded of the 
 sweetest little face that ever my eyes 
 beheld. I remember your coming 
 there, twice or thrice, when we were in 
 possession. Ah Kit, my- dear fellow, 
 gentlemen in my profession have such 
 painful duties to perform sometimes, 
 that you needn't envy us you needn't 
 indeed ! " 
 
 " I don't sir," said Kit, " though it 
 isn't for the like of me to judge." 
 
 "Our only consolation, Kit," pur- 
 sued the lawyer, looking at him in a 
 sort of pensive abstraction, " is, that 
 although we cannot turn away the 
 wind, we can soften it ; we can temper 
 it, if I may say so, to the shorn lambs." 
 
 " Shorn indeed ! " thought Kit. 
 " Pretty close ! " But he didn't say so. 
 
 " On that occasion, Kit," said Mr. 
 Brass, " on that occasion that I have 
 just alluded to, I had a hard battle 
 with Mr. Quilp (for Mr. Quilp is a 
 very hard man) to obtain them the 
 indulgence they had. It might have 
 cost me a client. But suffering virtue 
 inspired me, and I prevailed." 
 
 " He 's not so bad after all," thought 
 honest Kit, as the attorney pursed up 
 his lips and looked like a man who was 
 struggling with his better feelings. 
 
 " I respect you, Kit," said Brass 
 with emotion. " I saw enough of your 
 conduct, at that time, to respect you, 
 though your station is humble, and 
 your fortune lowly. It isn't the waist- 
 coat that I look at. It is the heart. 
 The checks in the waistcoat are but 
 the wires of the cage. But the heart 
 is the bird. Ah ! How many sich 
 birds are perpetually moulting, and 
 putting their beaks through the wires 
 to peck at all mankind ! " 
 
 This poetic figure, which Kit took 
 to be in special allusion to his own 
 
 checked waistcoat, quite overcame 
 him ; Mr. Brass's voice and manner 
 added not a little to its effect, for he 
 discoursed with all the mild austerity 
 of a hermit, and wanted but a cord 
 round the waist of his rusty surtout, 
 and a skull on the chimney-piece, to 
 be completely set up in that line of 
 business. 
 
 " Well, well," said Sampson, smiling 
 as good men smile when they compas- 
 sionate their own weakness or that of 
 their fellow-creatures, " this is wide of 
 the bull's-eye. You 're to take that, if 
 you please." As he spoke, he pointed 
 to a couple of half-crowns on the 
 desk. 
 
 Kit looked at the coins, and then at 
 Sampson, and hesitated. 
 
 " For yourself," said Brass. 
 
 " From " 
 
 " No matter about the person they 
 came from," replied the lawyer. " Say 
 me, if you like. We have eccentric 
 friends overhead, Kit, and we musn't 
 ask questions or talk too much you 
 understand ? You 're to take them, 
 that 's all ; and between you and me, 
 I don't think they '11 be the last you '11 
 have to take from the same place. I 
 hope not. Good bye, Kit. Good bye ! " 
 
 With many thanks, and many more 
 self-reproaches for having on such 
 slight grounds suspected one who in 
 their very first conversation turned out 
 such a different man from what he had 
 supposed, Kit took the money and 
 made the best of his way home. Mr. 
 Brass remained airing himself at the 
 fire, and resumed his vocal exercise, 
 and his seraphic smile, simultaneously. 
 
 " May I come in ? " said Miss Sally, 
 peeping. 
 
 " Oh yes, you may come in," re- 
 turned her brother. 
 
 " Ahem ? " coughed Miss Brass in- 
 terrogatively. 
 
 " Why, yes," returned Sampson, " I 
 should say as good as done." 
 
 SO 
 
 17
 
 253 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 MB. CHUCKSTER'S indignant appre- 
 hensions were not without foundation. 
 Certainly the friendship between the 
 single gentleman and Mr. Garland was 
 not suffered to cool, but had a rapid 
 growth and flourished exceedingly. 
 They were soon in habits of constant 
 intercourse and communication ; and 
 the single gentleman labouring at this 
 time under a slight attack of illness 
 the consequence most probably of his 
 late excited feelings and subsequent 
 disappointment furnished a reason 
 for their holding yet more frequent 
 correspondence ; so, that some one of 
 the inmates of Abel Cottage, Finchley, 
 came backwards and forwards between 
 that place and Bevis Marks, almost 
 every day. 
 
 As the pony had now thrown off all 
 disguise, and without any mincing of 
 the matter or beating about the bush, 
 sturdily refused to be driven by any- 
 body but Kit, it generally happened 
 that whether old Mr. Garland came, or 
 Mr. Abel, Kit was of the party. Of all 
 messages and inquiries, Kit was, in 
 right of his position, the bearer ; thus 
 it came about that, while the single 
 gentleman remained indisposed, Kit 
 turned into Bevis Marks every morn- 
 ing with nearly as much regularity as 
 the General Postman. 
 
 Mr. Sampson Brass, who no doubt 
 had his reasons for looking sharply 
 about him, soon learnt to distinguish 
 the pony's trot and the clatter of the 
 little chaise at the corner of the street. 
 Whenever this sound reached his ears, 
 he would immediately lay down his 
 pen and fall to rubbing hia hands and 
 exhibiting the greatest glee. 
 
 " Ha ha ! " he would cry. " Here 's 
 the pony again ! Most remarkable 
 pony, extremely docile, eh Mr. Richard, 
 eh sir ? " 
 
 Dick would return some matter-of- 
 course reply, and Mr. Brass, standing 
 on the bottom rail of his stool, so as to 
 get a view of the street over the top of 
 
 the window-blind, would take an obser- 
 vation of the visitors. 
 
 " The old gentleman again ! " he 
 would exclaim, " a very prepossessing 
 old gentleman, Mr. Richard charm- 
 ing countenance sir extremely calm 
 benevolence in every feature, sir. 
 He quite realises my idea of King 
 Lear, as he appeared when in posses- 
 sion of his kingdom, Mr. Richard the 
 same good-humour, the same white 
 hair and partial baldness, the same 
 liability to be imposed upon. Ah ! A 
 sweet subject for contemplation sir, 
 very sweet ! " 
 
 Then, Mr. Garland having alighted 
 and gone up-stairs, Sampson would 
 nod and smile to Kit from the window, 
 and presently walk out into the street 
 to greet him, when some such conver- 
 sation as the following would ensue. 
 
 " Admirably groomed, Kit " Mr. 
 Brass is patting the pony " does you 
 grcs,t credit amazingly sleek and 
 bright to be sure. He literally looks 
 as if he had been varnished all over." 
 
 Kit touches his hat, smiles, pats 
 the pony himself, and expresses his 
 conviction, " that Mr. Brass will not 
 find many like him." 
 
 " A beautiful animal indeed ! " cries 
 Brass. " Sagacious too ? " 
 
 " Bless you ! " replies Kit, " he 
 knows what you say to him as well as 
 a Christian does." 
 
 " Does he indeed ! " cries Brass, 
 who has heard the same thing in the 
 same place from the same person in the 
 same words a dozen times, but is para- 
 lysed with astonishment notwithstand- 
 ing. " Dear me ! " 
 
 " I little thought the first time I saw 
 him sir," says Kit, pleased with the 
 attorney's strong interest in his favour- 
 ite, "that I should come to be as inti- 
 mate with him as I am now." 
 
 " Ah ! " rejoins Mr. Brass, brim-full 
 of moral precepts and love of virtue. 
 " A charming subject of reflection 
 for you, very charming. A subject
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 259 
 
 of proper pride and congratulation, ! 
 Christopher. Honesty is the best ! 
 policy. I always find it so myself. I j 
 lost forty-seven pound ten by being ; 
 honest this morning. But it 's all gain, 
 it 's gain ! " 
 
 Mr. Brass slyly tickles his nose with 
 his pen, and looks at Kit with the 
 water standing in his eyes. Kit thinks 
 that if ever there was a good man who 
 belied his appearance, that man is 
 Sampson Brass. 
 
 "A man," says Sampson, "who 
 loses forty-seven pound ten in one 
 morning by his honesty, is a man to 
 be envied. If it had been eighty 
 pound, the luxuriousness of feeling 
 would have been increased. Every 
 pound lost, would have been a hun- 
 dredweight of happiness gained. The 
 still . small voice, Christopher," cries 
 Brass, smiling, and tapping himself on 
 the bosom, " is a singing comic songs 
 within me, and all is happiness and 
 joy ! " 
 
 Kit is so improved by the conversa- 
 tion, and finds it go so completely 
 home to his feelings, that he is con- 
 sidering what he shall say, when Mr. 
 Garland appears. The old gentleman 
 is helped into the chaise with great 
 obsequiousness by Mr. Sampson Brass ; 
 and the pony, after shaking his head ; 
 several times, and standing for three | 
 or four minutes with all his four legs 
 planted firmly on the ground, as if he ! 
 had made up his mind never to stir 
 from that spot, but there to live and 
 die, suddenly darts off, without the 
 smallest notice, at the rate of twelve 
 English miles an hour. Then, Mr. 
 Brass and his sister (who has joined 
 him at the door) exchange an odd 
 kind of smile not at all a pleasant 
 one in its expression and return to 
 the society of Mr. Richard Swiveller, 
 who, during their absence, has been 
 regaling himself with various feats of 
 pantomime, and is discovered at his 
 desk, in a very flushed and heated 
 condition, violently scratching out 
 nothing with half a penknife. 
 
 Whenever Kit came alone, and 
 without the chaise, it always happened 
 that Sampson Brass was reminded of 
 
 some mission, calling Mr. Swiveller, if 
 not to Peckham Rye again, at all 
 events to some pretty distant place 
 from which he could not be expected 
 to return for two or three hours, or in 
 all probability a much longer period,- 
 as that gentleman was not, to say the 
 truth, renowned for using great expe- 
 dition on such occasions, but rather 
 for protracting and spinning out the 
 time to the very utmost limit of possi- 
 bility. .Mr. Swiveller out of sight, 
 Miss Sally immediately withdrew. Mr. 
 Brass would then set the office-door 
 wide open, hum his old tune with great 
 gaiety of heart, and smile seraphicaliy 
 as before. Kit coming down-stairs 
 would be called in ; entertained with 
 some moral and agreeable conversa- 
 tion ; perhaps entreated to mind the 
 office for an instant while Mr. Brass 
 stepped over the way ; and afterwards 
 presented with one or two half-crowns 
 as the case might be. This occurred 
 so often, that Kit, nothing doubting 
 but that they came from the single 
 gentleman who had already rewarded 
 his mother with great liberality, could 
 not enough admire his generosity ; 
 and bought so many cheap presents 
 for her, and for little Jacob, and for 
 the baby, and for Barbara to boot, 
 that one or other of them was having 
 some new trifle every day of their 
 lives. 
 
 While these acts and deeds were in 
 progress in and out of the office of 
 Sampson Brass, Richard Swiveller, 
 being often left alone therein, began to 
 find the time hang heavy on his hands. 
 For the better preservation of his 
 cheerfulness therefore, and to prevent 
 his faculties from rusting, he provided 
 himself with a cribbage-board and 
 pack of cards, and accustomed him- 
 self to play at cribbage with a dummy, 
 for twenty, thirty, or sometimes even 
 fifty thousand pounds a side, besides 
 many hazardous bets to a considerable 
 amount. 
 
 As these games were very silently 
 conducted, notwithstanding the magni- 
 tude of the interests involved, Mr. 
 Swiveller began to think that on those 
 evenings when Mr. and Miss Brass 
 s2
 
 260 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 were out (and they often went out now) 
 lie heard a kind of snorting or hard- 
 breathing sound in the direction of the 
 door, which it occurred to him, after 
 some reflection, must proceed from 
 the small servant, who always had a 
 cold from damp living. Looking in- 
 tently that way one night, he plainly 
 distinguished an eye gleaming and 
 glistening at the keyhole ; and having 
 now no doubt that his suspicions were 
 correct, he stole softly to the door, and 
 pounced upon her before she was 
 aware of his approach. 
 
 " Oh ! I didn't mean any harm in- 
 deed, upon my word I didn't," cried 
 the small servant, struggling like a 
 much larger one. " It 's so very dull, 
 down stairs. Please don't you tell upon 
 me, please don't." 
 
 Tell upon you ! " said Dick. Do 
 you mean to say you were looking 
 through the keyhole for company ? " 
 
 " Yes, upon my word I was," replied 
 the small servant. 
 
 " How long have you been cooling 
 your eye there ? " said Dick. 
 
 " Oh ever since you first began to 
 play them cards, and long before." 
 
 Vague recollections of several fan- 
 tastic exercises with which he had 
 refreshed himself after the fatigues of 
 business, and to all of which, no doubt, 
 the small servant was a party, rather 
 disconcerted Mr. Swiveller ; but he 
 was not very sensitive on such points, 
 and recovered himself speedily. 
 
 " Well, come in " he said, after a 
 little consideration. " Here sit down, 
 and I '11 teach you how to play." 
 
 "Oh ! I durstn't do it" rejoined 
 the small servant ; " Miss Sally 'ud 
 kill me, if she know'd I come up 
 here." 
 
 " Have you got a fire down stairs 2" 
 said Dick. 
 
 "A very little one," replied the 
 small servant. 
 
 " Miss Sally couldn't kill me if she 
 know'd I went down there, so I '11 
 come," said Richard, putting the cards 
 into his pocket. " Why, how thin you 
 are ! What do you mean by it ?" 
 
 " It an't my fault." 
 
 a Could you eat any bread and 
 
 meat ? " said Dick, taking down his 
 hat. "Yes? Ah! I thought so. Did 
 you ever taste beer I " 
 
 " I had a sip of it once," said the 
 small servant. 
 
 " Here 's a state of things ! " cried 
 Mr. Swiveller, raising his eyes to the 
 ceiling. " She never tasted it it can't 
 be tasted in a sip ! Whv, how old are 
 you ? " 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 Mr. Swiveller opened his eyes very 
 wide, and appeared thoughtful for a 
 moment ; then, bidding the child mind 
 the door until he came back, vanished 
 straightway. 
 
 Presently, he returned, followed by 
 the boy from the public-house, who 
 bore in one hand a plate of bread and 
 beef, and in the other a great pot, 
 filled with some very fragrant com- 
 pound, which sent forth a grateful 
 steam, and was indeed choice purl, 
 made after a particular recipe which 
 Mr. Swiveller had imparted to the 
 landlord, at a period when he was deep 
 in his books and desirous to conciliate 
 his friendship. Relieving the boy of 
 his burden at the door, and charging 
 his little companion to fasten it to pre- 
 vent surprise, Mr. Swiveller followed 
 her into the kitchen. 
 
 " There ! " said Richard, putting 
 the plate before her. " First of all, 
 clear that off, and then you '11 see 
 what 's next." 
 
 The small servant needed no second 
 bidding, and the plate was soon 
 empty. 
 
 " Next," said Dick, handing the purl, 
 " take a pull at that ; but moderate 
 your transports, you know, for you 're 
 not used to it. Well, is it good ? " 
 
 "Oh! isn't it?" said the small 
 servant. 
 
 Mr. Swiveller appeared gratified be- 
 yond all expression by this reply, and 
 took a long draught himself: stead- 
 fastly regarding his companion while 
 he did so. These preliminaries dis- 
 posed of, he applied himself to teaching 
 her the game, which she soon learnt 
 tolerably well, being both sharp-witted 
 and cunning. 
 
 " Now," said Mr. Swiveller, putting
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 two sixpences into a saucer, and trim- 
 ming the wretched candle, when the 
 cards had been cut and dealt, " those 
 are the stakes. If you win, you get 
 'cm all. If I win, I get 'em. To 
 make it seem more real and pleasant, 
 I shall call you the March! oness, do 
 yon hear ? " 
 
 The small servant nodded. 
 
 " Then, Marchioness," said Mr. 
 Swiveller, " fire away ! " 
 
 The Marchioness, holding her cards 
 very tight in both hands, considered 
 which to play, and Mr. Swiveller, as- 
 suming the gay and fashionable air 
 which ouch society required, took 
 another pull at the tankard, and waited 
 for her lead.
 
 262 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER LVI1I. 
 
 MR. SWIVELLER and his partner 
 played several rubbers with varying 
 success, until the loss of three six- 
 pences, the gradual sinking of the 
 purl, and the striking of ten o'clock, 
 'combined to render that gentleman 
 mindful of the flight of Time, and 
 the expediency of withdrawing before 
 Mr. Sampson and Miss Sally Brass 
 returned. 
 
 " With which object in view, 
 Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller 
 gravely, " I shall ask your ladyship's 
 permission to put the board in my 
 pocket, and to retire from the pre- 
 sence when I have finished this 
 tankard ; merely observing, Mar- 
 chioness, that since life like a river 
 is flowing, I care not how fast it rolls 
 on, ma'am, on, while such purl on 
 the bank still is growing, and such 
 eyes light the waves as they run. 
 Marchioness, your health. You will 
 excuse my wearing my hat, but the 
 palace is damp, and the marble floor 
 is if I may be allowed the expres- 
 sion sloppy." 
 
 As a precaution against this latter 
 inconvenience, Mr. Swiveller had been 
 sitting for some time with his feet on 
 the hob, in which attitude he now 
 gave utterance to these apologetic 
 observations, and slowly sipped the 
 last choice drops of nectar. 
 
 " The Baron Sampsono Brasso and 
 his fair sister are (you tell me) at the 
 Flay 1 " said Mr. Swiveller, leaning 
 his left arm heavily upon the table, 
 and raising his voice and his right 
 leg after the manner of a theatrical 
 bandit. 
 
 The Marchioness nodded. 
 
 " Ha ! " said Mr. Swiveller, with a 
 portentous frown. " 'Tis well. Mar- 
 chioness ! but no matter. Some 
 wine there. Ho ! " He illustrated 
 these melo-dramatic morsels, by hand- 
 ing the tankard to himself with great 
 humility, receiving it haughtily, drink- 
 ing from it thirstily, and smacking his 
 *ips fiercely. 
 
 The small servant, who was not so 
 well acquainted with theatrical con- 
 ventionalities as Mr. Swiveller (having 
 indeed never seen a play, or heard one 
 spoken of, except by chance through 
 chinks of doors and in other forbid- 
 den places), was rather alarmed by 
 demonstrations so novel in their 
 nature, and showed her concern so 
 plainly in her looks, that Mr. Swiveller 
 felt it necessary to discharge his bri- 
 gand manner for one more suitable to 
 private life, as he asked, 
 
 " Do they often go where glory 
 waits 'em, and leave you here ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I believe you they do," 
 returned the small servant. " Miss 
 Sally's such a one-er for that, she 
 is." 
 
 " Such a what ? " said Dick. 
 
 " Such a one-er," returned the 
 Marchioness. 
 
 After a moment's reflection, Mr. 
 Swiveller determined to forego his 
 responsible duty of setting her right, 
 and to suffer her to talk on ; as it was 
 evident that her tongue was loosened 
 by the purl, and her opportunities for 
 conversation were not so frequent as 
 to render a momentary check of little 
 consequence. 
 
 " They sometimes go to see Mr. 
 Quilp," said the small servant with a 
 shrewd look ; 'f they go to a many 
 places, bless you ! " 
 
 " Is Mr. Brass a wunner ? " said 
 Dick. 
 
 "Not half what Miss Sally is, he 
 isn't," replied the small servant, 
 shaking her head. " Bless you, he 'd 
 never do anything without her." 
 
 Oh ! He wouldn't, wouldn't he ? " 
 said Dick. 
 
 " Miss Sally keeps him in such 
 order," said the small servant ; " he 
 always asks her advice, he does ; and 
 he catches it sometimes. Bless you, 
 you wouldn't believe how much he 
 catches it." 
 
 '' I suppose," said Dick, " that they 
 consult together, a good deal, and talk
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 263 
 
 about a great many people about 
 me for instance, sometimes, eh, Mar- 
 chioness ? :> 
 
 The Marchioness nodded amazingly. 
 "Complimentary?" said Mr. Swi- 
 veller. 
 
 The Marchioness changed the mo- 
 tion of her head, which had not yet 
 left off nodding, and suddenly began 
 to shake it from side to side, with a 
 vehemence which threatened to dislo- 
 cate her neck. 
 
 " Humph ! " Dick muttered. " Would 
 it be any breach of confidence, Mar- 
 chioness, to relate what they say of 
 the humble individual who has now 
 the honour 'to !" 
 
 " Miss Sally says you 're a funny 
 chap," replied his friend. 
 
 "Well, Marchioness," said Mr. 
 Swiveller, "that's not uncomplimen- 
 tary. Merriment, Marchioness, is 
 not a bad or a degrading quality. Old 
 King Cole was himself a merry old 
 soul, if we may put any faith hi the 
 pages of history." 
 
 " But she says," pursued his com- 
 panion, " that you an't to be trusted." 
 " Why, really Marchioness," said 
 Mr. Swiveller, thoughtfully ; " several 
 ladies and gentlemen not exactly 
 professional persons, but tradespeople, 
 ma'am, tradespeople have made the 
 same remark. The obscure citizen 
 who keeps the hotel over the way, 
 inclined strongly to that opinion to- 
 night when I ordered him to prepare 
 the banquet. It's a popular pre- 
 judice, Marchioness ; and yet I am 
 sure I don't know why, for I have 
 been trusted in my time to a consider- 
 able amount, and I can safely say that 
 I never forsook my trust until it 
 deserted me never. Mr. Brass is of 
 the same opinion, I suppose ? " 
 
 His friend nodded again, with a 
 cunning look which seemed to hint 
 that Mr. Brass held stronger opinions 
 on the subject than his sister ; and 
 seeming to recollect herself, added 
 imploringly, " But don't you ever tell 
 upon me, or I shall be beat to death." 
 " Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller, 
 rising, " the word of a gentleman is 
 as good as his bond sometimes 
 
 better, as in the present case, where 
 his bond might prove but a doubtful 
 sort of security. I am your friend, 
 and I hope we shall play many more 
 rubbers together in this same saloon. 
 But, Marchioness," added Richard, 
 stopping in his way to the door, 
 and wheeling slowly round upon. the 
 small servant, who was following with 
 the candle ; " it occurs to me that 
 you must be in the constant habit of 
 airing your eye at keyholes, to know 
 all this." 
 
 " I only wanted," replied the trem- 
 j bling Marchioness, " to know where 
 the key of the safe was hid ; that was 
 all ; and I wouldn't have taken much, 
 if I had found it only enough to 
 squench my hunger." 
 
 " You didn't find it then ? " said 
 Dick. " But of course you didn't, or 
 you 'd be plumper. Good night, Mar- 
 chioness. Fare thee well, and if for 
 ever, then for ever fare thee well and 
 put up the chain, Marchioness, in case 
 of accidents." 
 
 With this parting injunction, Mr. 
 Swiveller emerged from the house ; 
 and feeling that he had by this time 
 taken quite as much to drink as pro- 
 mised to be good for his constitution 
 (purl being a rather strong and heady 
 compound), wisely resolved to betake 
 himself to his lodgings, and to bed at 
 once. Homeward he went therefore ; 
 and his apartments (for he still re- 
 tained the plural fiction) being at no 
 great distance from the office, he was 
 soon seated in his own bed-chamber, 
 where, having pulled off one boot and 
 forgotten the other, he fell into deep 
 cogitathm. 
 
 " This Marchioness," said Mr. Swi- 
 veller, folding his arms, "is a very 
 extraordinary person surrounded by 
 mysteries, ignorant of the taste of 
 beer, unacquainted with her own 
 name (which is less remarkable), and 
 taking a limited view of society 
 through the keyholes of doors can 
 these things be her destiny, or has 
 some unknown person started an 
 opposition to the decrees of fate ? It 
 is a most inscrutable and unmitigated 
 staggerer ! "
 
 2G* 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP 
 
 When his meditations had attained 
 this satisfactory point, he became 
 aware of his remaining boot, of which, 
 with unimpaired solemnity, he pro- 
 ceeded to divest himself ; shaking his 
 head with exceeding gravity all the 
 time, and sighing deeply. 
 
 " These rubbers," said Mr. Swivel- 
 ler, putting on his nightcap in exactly 
 the same style as he wore his hat, 
 " remind me of the matrimonial fire- 
 side. Cheggs's wife plays cribbage ; 
 all-fours likewise. She rings the 
 changes on 'em now. From sport to 
 sport they hurry her, to banish her 
 regrets, and when they win a smile 
 from her, they think that she forgets 
 but she don't. By this time, I 
 should say," added Richard, getting 
 his left cheek into profile, and looking 
 complacently at the reflection of a 
 very little scrap of whisker in the 
 looking-glass ; " by this time, I should 
 say, the iron has entered into her soul. 
 It serves her right ! " 
 
 Melting from this stern and obdu- 
 rate, into the tender and pathetic 
 mood, Mr. Swiveller groaned a little, 
 walked wildly up and down, and even 
 made a show of tearing his hair, 
 which however he thought better of, 
 and wrenched the tassel from his 
 nightcap instead. At last, undressing 
 himself with a gloomy resolution, he 
 got into bed. 
 
 Some men in his blighted position 
 would have taken to drinking ; but as 
 Mr. Swiveller had taken to that 
 before, he only took, on receiving the 
 news that Sophy Wackles was lost to 
 him for ever, to playing the flute ; 
 thinking after mature consideration 
 that it was a good, sound, dismal 
 occupation, not only in unison with 
 his own sad thoughts, but calculated 
 to awaken a fellow-feeling in the 
 bosoms of his neighbours. In pur- 
 suance of this resolution, he now drew 
 a little table to his bedside, and 
 arranging .the light and a small oblong 
 music-book to the best advantage, 
 look his flute from its box, and began 
 to play most mournfully. 
 
 The air was "Away with melan- 
 choly" a composition, which, when 
 
 it is played very slowly on the flute, 
 iu bed, with the further disadvantage 
 of being performed by a gentleman 
 but imperfectly acquainted with the 
 instrument, who repeats one note a 
 great many times before he can find 
 the next, has not a lively effect. Yet, 
 for half the night, or more, Mr. 
 Swiveller, lying sometimes on his back 
 with his eyes upon the ceiling, and 
 sometimes half out of bed to correct 
 himself by the book, played this un- 
 happy tune over and over again ; 
 never leaving off, save for a minute 
 or two at a time to take breath and 
 soliloquize about the Marchioness, and 
 then beginning again with renewed 
 vigour. It was not until he had quite 
 exhausted his several subjects of 
 meditation, and had breathed into 
 the flute the whole sentiment of the 
 purl down to its very dregs, and had 
 nearly maddened the people of the 
 house, and at both the next doors, 
 and over the way, that he shut 
 up the music-book, extinguished the 
 candle, and finding himself greatly 
 lightened and relieved in his mind, 
 turned round and fell asleep. 
 
 He awoke in the morning, much 
 refreshed ; and having taken half an 
 hour's exercise at the flute, and gra- 
 ciously received a notice to quit from 
 his landlady, who had been in waiting 
 on the stairs for that purpose since the 
 dawn of day, repaired to Bevis Marks ^ 
 where the beautiful Sally was already 
 at her post, bearing in her looks a 
 radiance, mild as that which beameth 
 from the virgin moon. 
 
 Mr. Swiveller acknowledged her 
 presence by a nod, and exchanged his 
 coat for the aquatic jacket ; which 
 usually took some time fitting on, for 
 in consequence of a tightness in the 
 sleeves, it was only to be got into by a 
 series of struggles. This difficulty 
 overcome, he took his seat at the desk. 
 " I say " quoth Miss Brass, ab- 
 ruptly breaking silence, " you haven't 
 seen a silver pencil-case this morning, 
 have you ?" 
 
 " I didn't meet many in the street," 
 rejoined Mr. Swiveller. " I saw one 
 a stout pencil-case of respectable
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP 
 
 2G5 
 
 appearance but as he was in com- 
 pany with an elderly pen-knife, and a 
 young toothpick with whom he was in 
 earnest conversation, I felt a delicacy 
 in speaking to him." 
 
 " No, but have you ? " returned Miss 
 Brass. " Seriously, you know." 
 
 " What a dull dog you must be to 
 ask me such a question seriously," 
 said Mr. Swiveller. " Haven't I this 
 moment come 1 " 
 
 " Well, all I know is," replied Miss 
 Sally, " that it 's not to be found, and 
 that it disappeared one day this week, 
 when I left it on the desk." 
 
 "Halloa!" thought Richard, "I 
 hope the Marchioness hasn't been at 
 work here." 
 
 " There was a knife too," said Miss 
 Sally, " of the same pattern. They 
 were given to me by my father, years 
 ago, and are both gone. You haven't 
 missed anything yourself, have you 1 " 
 
 Mr. Swiveller involuntarily clapped 
 his hands to the jacket to be quite 
 sure that it was a jacket and not a 
 skirted coat ; and having satisfied him- 
 self of the safety of this, his only 
 moveable in Bevis Marks, made answer 
 in the negative. 
 
 "It's a very unpleasant thing, 
 Dick," said Miss Brass, pulling out 
 the tin box and refreshing herself with 
 a pinch of snuff ; " but between you 
 and me between friends you know, 
 for if Sammy knew it, I should never 
 hear the last of it some of the office- 
 money, too, that has been left about, 
 has gone in the same way. In parti-- 
 cular, I have missed three half-crowns 
 at three different times." 
 
 " You don't mean that ? " cried Dick. 
 " Be careful what you say, old boy, 
 for this is a serious matter. Are you 
 quite sure ? Is there no mistake ? " 
 
 " It is so, and there can't be any 
 mistake at all," rejoined Miss Brass 
 emphatically. 
 
 " Then by Jove," thought Richard, 
 laying down his pen, " I am afraid the 
 Marchioness is done for ! " 
 
 The more he discussed the subject 
 in his thoughts, the more probable it 
 appeared to Dick that the miserable 
 little servant was the culprit. When | 
 
 he coftsidered on what a spare allow- 
 ance of food she lived, how neglected 
 and untaught she was, and how her 
 natural cunning had been sharpened 
 by necessity and privation, he scarcely 
 doubted it. And yet he pitied her so 
 much, and felt so unwilling to have a 
 matter of such gravity disturbing the 
 oddity of their acquaintance, that he 
 thought, and thought truly, that rather 
 than receive fifty pounds down, he 
 would have the Marchioness proved 
 innocent. 
 
 While he was plunged in very pro- 
 found and serious meditation upon 
 this theme, Miss Sally sat shaking her 
 head with an air of great mystery and 
 doubt ; when the voice of her brother 
 Sampson, carolling a cheerful strain, 
 was heard in the passage, and that 
 gentleman himself, beaming with vir- 
 tuous smiles, appeared. 
 
 " Mr. Richard sir, good morning ! 
 Here we are again sir, entering upon 
 another day, with our bodies strength- 
 ened by slumber and breakfast, and 
 our spirits fresh and flowing. Here 
 we are, Mr. Richard, rising with the 
 sun to run our little course our 
 course of duty sir and, like him, to get 
 through our day's work with credit to 
 ourselves and advantage to our fellow 
 creatures. A charming reflection sir, 
 very charming ! " 
 
 While he addressed his clerk in 
 these words, Mr. Brass was, somewhat 
 ostentatiously, engaged in minutely ex- 
 amining and holding up against the 
 light a five-pound bank note, which he 
 had brought in, in his hand. 
 
 Mr. Richard not receiving his re- 
 marks with anything like enthusiasm, 
 his employer turned his eyes to his 
 face, and observed that it wore a 
 troubled expression. 
 
 " You 're out of spirits sir," said 
 Brass. " Mr. Richard sir, we should 
 fall to work cheerfully, and not in a 
 despondent state. It becomes us, Mr. 
 Richard sir, to " 
 
 Here the chaste Sarah heaved a 
 loud sigh. 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Mr. Sampson, 
 " you too ! Is anything the matter \ 
 Mr. Richard sir "
 
 266 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 Dick, glancing at Miss Sally, saw 
 that she was making signals to him, to 
 acquaint her brother with the subject 
 of their recent conversation. As his 
 own position was not a very pleasant 
 one until the matter was set at rest 
 one way or other, he did so ; and 
 Miss Brass, plying her snuff-box at a 
 most wasteful rate, corroborated his 
 account. 
 
 The countenance of Sampson fell, 
 and anxiety overspread his features. 
 Instead of passionately bewailing the 
 loss of his money, as Miss Sally had 
 expected, he walked on tiptoe to the 
 door, opened it, looked outside, shut it 
 softly, returned on tiptoe, and said in 
 a whisper, 
 
 " This is a most extraordinary and 
 painful circumstance Mr. Richard 
 sir, a most painful circumstance. The 
 fact is, that I myself have missed 
 several small sums from the desk, of 
 late, and have refrained from men- 
 tioning it, hoping that accident would 
 discover the offender ; but it has not 
 done so it has not done so. Sally 
 Mr. Richard sir this is a particu- 
 larly distressing affair ! " 
 
 As Sampson spoke, he laid the bank- 
 note upon the desk among some papers, 
 in an absent manner, and thrust his 
 hands into his pockets. Richard Swi- 
 veller pointed to it, and admonished 
 him to take it up. 
 
 "No, Mr. Richard sir," rejoined 
 Brass with emotion, " I will not take 
 it up. I will let it lie there, sir. To 
 take it up, Mr. Richard sir, would 
 imply a doubt of you ; and in you sir, 
 I have unlimited confidence. We will 
 let it lie there sir, if you please, and we 
 will not take it up by any means." 
 With that, Mr. Brass patted him twice 
 or thrice on the shoulder, in a most 
 friendly manner, and entreated him to 
 believe that he had as much faith in 
 his honesty as he had in his own. 
 
 Although at another time Mr. Swi- 
 veller might have looked upon this 
 as a doubtful compliment, he felt it, 
 under the then-existing circumstances, 
 a great relief to be assured that he was 
 not wrongfully suspected. When he 
 had made a suitable reply, Mr. Brass 
 
 wrung him by the hand, and fell into a 
 brown study, as did Miss Sally like- 
 wise. Richard too remained in a 
 thoughtful state; fearing every mo- 
 ment to hear the Marchioness im- 
 peached, and unable to resist the 
 conviction that she must be guilty. 
 
 When they had severally remained 
 in this condition for some minutes, 
 Miss Sally all at once gave a loud rap 
 upon the desk with her clenched fist, 
 and cried, " I 've hit it ! " as indeed 
 she had, and chipped a piece out of it 
 too ; but that was not her meaning. 
 
 " Well," cried Brass anxiously. 
 " Go on, will you ? " 
 
 " Why," replied his sister with an 
 air of triumph, " hasn't there been 
 somebody always coming in and out of 
 this office for "the last three or four 
 weeks ; hasn't that somebody been 
 left alone in it sometimes thanks to 
 you ; and do you mean to tell me that 
 that somebody isn't the thief ! " 
 
 " What somebody ? " blustered 
 Brass. 
 
 " Why, what do you call him 
 Kit." 
 
 " Mr. Garland's young man ? " 
 
 To be sure." 
 
 " Never ! " cried Brass. " Never. 
 I '11 not hear of it. Don't tell me' 
 said Sampson, shaking his head, and 
 working with both his hands as if he 
 were clearing away ten thousand cob- 
 webs. " I '11 never believe it of him. 
 Never !/' 
 
 " I say," repeated Miss Brass, talcing 
 another "pinch of snuff, " that he 's the 
 thief." 
 
 " I say " returned Sampson vio- 
 lently, " that he is not. What do you 
 mean ? How dare you ? Are cha- 
 racters to be whispered away like 
 this? Do you know that he's the 
 honestest and faithfullest fellow that 
 ever lived, and that he has an irre- 
 proachable good name ? Come in, 
 come in ! " 
 
 These last words were not addressed 
 to Miss Sally, though they partook of 
 the tone in which the indignant remon- 
 strances that preceded them had been 
 uttered. They were addressed to 
 some person who had knocked at the
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 2G7 
 
 office-door ; and they had hardly I ness to step directly to Wrasp an<l 
 
 passed the lips of Mr. Brass, when 
 this very Kit himself looked in. 
 
 "Is the gentleman up-stairs sir, if 
 
 you please ? " 
 "Yes, Kit' 
 
 said Brass, still fired 
 
 Co.'s in Broad Street, and inquire if 
 they have had instructions to appear 
 in Carkem and Painter. Tliat lad a 
 robber," sneered Sampson, flushed and 
 heated with his wrath. " Am I blind, 
 
 with an holiest indignation, and frown- deaf, silly ; do I know nothing of 
 ing with knotted brows upon his sister ; j human nature when I see it before 
 Yes Kit, he is. I am glad to see " "" ' ' ' 
 
 you Kit, I am. rejoiced to see you. 
 Look in again, as you come down- 
 
 me ? Kit a robber ! Bah ! " 
 
 Flinging this final interjection at 
 Miss Sally with immeasurable scorn 
 
 stairs, Kit. That lad a robber ! " I and contempt, Sampson Brass thrust 
 cried Brass when he had withdrawn, | his head into his desk, as if to shut the 
 " with that frank and open counte- i base world from his view, and breathed 
 nance ! I 'd trust him with untold ' defiance from under its half-closed lid. 
 gold. Mr. Richard sir, have the good-
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER LTX. 
 
 WHEN Kit, having discharged his 
 errand, came down-stairs from the 
 single gentleman's apartment after the 
 lapse of a quarter of an hour or so, 
 Mr. Sampson Brass was alone in the 
 office. He was not singing as usual, 
 nor was he seated at his desk. The 
 open door showed him standing before 
 the fire with his back towards it, and 
 looking so very strange that Kit sup- 
 posed he must have been suddenly 
 taken ill. 
 
 " Is anything the matter sir ? " said 
 Kit. 
 
 Matter ! " cried Brass. " No. 
 Why anything the matter ? " 
 
 " You are so very pale," said Kit, 
 "that I should hardly have known you." 
 
 " Pooh pooh ! mere fancy," cried 
 Brass, stooping to throw up the cin- 
 ders. " Never better Kit, never better 
 in all my life. Merry too. Ha ha ! 
 How 's our friend above-stairs, eh ? " 
 
 " A great deal better " said Kit. 
 
 " I 'm glad to hear it" rejoined 
 Brass ; " thankful, I may say. An 
 excellent gentleman worthy, liberal, 
 generous, gives very little trouble an 
 admirable lodger. Ha ha ! Mr. Gar- 
 land he 's well I hope, Kit and the 
 pony my friend, my particular friend 
 you know. Ha ha ! " 
 
 Kit gave a satisfactory account of 
 all the little household at Abel Cottage. 
 Mr. Brass, who seemed remarkably 
 inattentive and impatient, mounted on 
 his stool, and beckoning him to come 
 nearer, took him by the button-hole. 
 
 " I have been thinking, Kit," said 
 the lawyer, " that I could throw some 
 little emoluments into your mother's 
 way You have a mother, I think ? 
 If I recollect right, you told me " 
 
 " Oh yes sir, yes certainly." 
 
 " A widow 1 think ? an industrious 
 widow ? " 
 
 " A harder-working woman or a 
 better mother never lived sir." 
 
 "Ah!" cried Brass. "That's af- 
 fecting, truly affecting. A poor widow 
 struggling to maintain her orphans in 
 
 j decency and comfort, is a delicious 
 picture of human goodness. Put 
 down your hat, Kit." 
 
 "Thank you sir, I must be going 
 directly." 
 
 " Put -it down while you stay, at any 
 rate," said Brass, taking it from him 
 and making some confusion among the 
 papers, in finding a place for it on the 
 desk. " I was thinking, Kit, that we 
 have often houses to let for people we 
 are concerned for, and matters of that 
 sort. Now you know we're obliged 
 to put people into those houses to take 
 care of 'em very often undeserving 
 people that we can't depend upon. 
 What 's to prevent our having a per- 
 son that we can depend upon, and 
 enjoying the delight of doing a good 
 action at the same time ? I say, 
 what 's to prevent our employing this 
 worthy woman, your mother ? What 
 with one job and another, there's 
 lodging and good lodging too pretty 
 well all the year round, rent free, and 
 a weekly allowance besides, Kit, that 
 would provide her with a great many 
 comforts she don't at present enjoy. 
 Now what do you think of that ? Do 
 you see any objection ? My only 
 desire is to serve you, Kit ; therefore 
 if you do, say so freely." 
 
 As Brass spoke, he moved the hat 
 twice or thrice, and shuffled among 
 the papers again, as if in search of 
 something. 
 
 " How can I see any objection to 
 such a kind offer sir?" replied Kit 
 with his whole heart. " I don't know 
 how to thank you sir, I don't indeed." 
 
 " Why then," said Brass, suddenly 
 turning upon him and thrusting his 
 face close to Kit's with such a repul- 
 sive smile that the latter, even in the 
 very height of his gratitude, drew 
 back, quite startled. " Why then, it 's 
 done.'''' 
 
 Kit looked at him in some confusion. 
 
 " Done, I say," added Sampson, 
 rubbing his hands and veiling himself 
 again in his usual oily manner. " Ha
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 269 
 
 ha ! and so you shall find Kit, so you 
 shall find. But dear me " said Brass, 
 " what a time Mr. Richard is gone ! A 
 sad loiterer to be sure ! Will you mind 
 the office one minute, while I run up- 
 stairs ? Only one minute. I '11 not 
 detain you an instant longer, on any 
 account, Kit." 
 
 Talking as he went, Mr. Brass 
 bustled out of the office, and in a 
 very short time returned. Mr. Swi- 
 veljer came back, almost at the same 
 instant ; and as Kit was leaving the 
 room hastily, to make up for lost time, 
 Hiss Brass herself encountered him 
 in the doorway. 
 
 " Oh ! " sneered Sally, looking after I 
 him as she entered. " There goes ! 
 your pet, Sammy, eh ? " 
 
 " Ah ! There he goes "replied Brass. 
 " My pet, if you please. An honest 
 fellow, Mr. Richard sir a worthy fel- 
 low indeed ! " 
 
 " Hem ! " coughed Miss Brass. 
 " I tell you, you aggravating vaga- 
 bond " said the angry Sampson, " that 
 I 'd stake my life upon his honesty, j 
 Am I never to hear the last of this ? 
 Am I always to be baited, and beset, 
 by your mean suspicions ? Have you 
 no regard for true merit, you malig- 
 nant fellow ? If you come to that, I 'd 
 sooner suspect your honesty than 
 his." 
 
 Miss Sally pulled out the tin snuff- 
 box, and took a long, slow pinch : re- ! 
 yarding her brother with a steady 
 gaze all the time. 
 
 " She drives me wild, Mr. Richard 
 sir," said Brass, " she exasperates me 
 beyond all bearing. 1 am heated and 
 excited sir, I know I am. These are 
 not business manners, sir, nor busi- 
 ness looks, but she carries me out of 
 myself." 
 
 " Why don't you leave him alone ? " 
 said Dick. 
 
 "Because she can't sir," retorted 
 Brass ; " because to chafe and vex 
 me is a part of her nature sir, and 
 she will and must do it, or I don't be- 
 lieve she 'd have her health. But never 
 mind," said Brass, " never mind. I 've 
 carried my point. I 've shown my 
 confidence in the lad. He has minded 
 
 the office again. Ha ha ! Ugh, you 
 viper ! " 
 
 The beautiful virgin took .another 
 pinch, and put the snuff-box in her 
 pocket ; still looking at her brother 
 with perfect composure. 
 
 " He has minded the office again," 
 said Brass triumphantly ; " he lias had 
 my confidence, and he shall continue 
 to have it ; he why, where's the " 
 
 " What have you lost 1 " inquired 
 Mr. Swiveller. 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Brass, slapping 
 all his pockets, one after another, and 
 looking into his desk, and 'under it, 
 and upon it, and wildly tossing the 
 papers about, " the note, Mr. Richard 
 sir, the five-pound note what can 
 have become of it? I laid it down 
 here God bless me ! " 
 
 " What ! " cried Miss Sally, starting 
 up, clapping her hands, and scattering 
 the papers on the floor. " Gone ! Now 
 who's right ? Now who's got it ? 
 Never mind five pounds what 's five 
 pounds ? He 's honest you know, quite 
 honest. It would be mean to suspect 
 him. Don't run after him. No, no, 
 not for the world ! " 
 
 " Is it really gone though ? " said 
 Dick, looking at Brass with a face as 
 pale as his own. 
 
 " Upon my word, Mr. Richard sir," 
 replied the lawyer, feeling in all his 
 pockets with looks of the greatest 
 agitation, " I fear this is a black busi- 
 ness. It's certainly gone, sir. What's 
 to be done ? " 
 
 " Don't run after him," said Miss 
 Sally, taking more snuff. " Don't run 
 after him on any account. Give him 
 time to get rid of it, you know. It 
 would be cruel to find him out ! " 
 
 Mr. Swiveller and Sampson Brass 
 looked from Miss Sally to each other, 
 in a state of bewilderment, and then, 
 as by one impulse, caught up their 
 hats and rushed out into the street 
 darting along in the middle of the 
 road, and dashing aside all obstruc- 
 tions, as though they were running for 
 their lives. 
 
 It happened that Kit had been run- 
 ning too, though not so fast, and having 
 the start of them by some few minutes,
 
 270 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 was a good distance ahead. As they 
 were pretty certain of the road he 
 must have taken, however, and kept or 
 at a great pace, they came up with 
 him, at the very moment when he hac 
 taken breath, and was breaking into a 
 run again. 
 
 " Stop ! " cried Sampson, laying his 
 hand on one shoulder, while Mr. 
 Swiveller pounced upon the other. 
 " Not so fast sir. You 're in a 
 hurry ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am," said Kit, looking from 
 one to the other in great surprise. 
 
 "I I can hardly believe it,' 
 panted Sampson, " but something of 
 value is missing from the office. I hope 
 you don't know what." 
 
 " Know what ! good Heaven Mr. 
 Brass ! " cried Kit, trembling from 
 head to foot ; " you don't suppose " 
 
 " No, no," rejoined Brass quickly, 
 " I don't suppose anything. Don't say 
 / said you did. You '11 come back 
 quietly, I hope ? " 
 
 " Of course I will," returned Kit. 
 Why not 1 " 
 
 " To be sure ! " said Brass. " Why 
 not ? I hope there may turn out to be 
 no why not. If you knew the trouble 
 I've been in, this morning, through 
 taking your part, Christopher, you'd 
 be sorry for it." 
 
 " And I am sure you '11 be sorry for 
 having suspected me sir," replied 
 Kit. "Come. Let us make haste 
 back." 
 
 " Certainly ! " cried Brass, " the 
 quicker, the better. Mr. Richard 
 have the goodness sir to take that arm. 
 I '11 take this one. It 's not easy 
 walking three abreast, but under these 
 circumstances it must be done sir ; 
 there 's no help for it." 
 
 Kit did turn from white to red, and 
 from red to white again, when they 
 secured him thus, and for a moment 
 seemed disposed to resist. But, quickly 
 recollecting himself, and remembering 
 that if he made any struggle, he would 
 perhaps be dragged by the collar 
 through the public Btreets, he only 
 repeated, with great earnestness and 
 with the tears standing in his eyes, 
 that they would be sorry for this and 
 
 suffered them to lead him off. While 
 they were on the way back, Mr. Swi- 
 veller, upon whom his present func- 
 tions sat very irksomely, took an 
 opportunity of whispering in his ear 
 that if he would confess his guilt, even 
 by so much as a nod, and promise not 
 to do so any more, he would connive 
 at his kicking Sampson Brass on the 
 shins and escaping up a court ; but 
 Kit indignantly rejecting this propo- 
 sal, Mr. Richard had nothing for it, 
 but to hold him tight until they reached 
 Bevis Marks, and ushered him into 
 the presence of the charming Sarah, 
 who immediately took the precaution 
 of locking the door. 
 
 " Now, you know," said Brass, " if 
 this is a case of innocence, it is a case 
 of that description, Christopher, where 
 the fullest disclosure is the best satis- 
 faction for everybody. Therefore it' 
 you'll consent to an examination," 
 he demonstrated what kind of ex- 
 amination he meant by turning back 
 the cuffs of his coat, "it will ba a 
 comfortable and pleasant thing for all 
 parties." 
 
 " Search me," said Kit, proudly 
 holding up his arms. " But mind sir 
 I know you '11 be sorry for this, to 
 the last day of your life." 
 
 " It is certainly a very painful occur- 
 rence," said Brass with a sigh, as he 
 dived into one of Kit's pockets, and 
 fished up a miscellaneous collection 
 of small articles ; " very painful. 
 Nothing here, Mr. Richard, sir, all 
 perfectly satisfactory. Nor here, sir. 
 Nor in the waistcoat, Mr. Richard, nor 
 Ji the coat tails. "So far, I am rejoiced, 
 I am sure." 
 
 Richard Swiveller, holding Kit's hat 
 n his hand, was watching the proceed- 
 ngs with great interest, and bore upon 
 lis face the slightest possible indica- 
 ;ion of a smile, as Brass, shutting one 
 of his eyes, looked with the other up 
 ;he inside of one of the poor fellow's 
 sleeves as if it were a telescope when 
 Sampson turning hastily to him, bade 
 lira search the hat. 
 
 " Here 's a handkerchief," said 
 Dick. 
 " No harm in that sir," rejoined
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 Brass, applying his eye to the other 
 sleeve, and speaking in the voice of 
 one who was contemplating an im- 
 mense extent of prospect. " No harm 
 in a handkerchief sir, whatever. The 
 faculty don't consider it a healthy 
 custom, I believe, Mr. Richard, to 
 carry one's handkerchief in one's hat 
 I have heard that it keeps the head 
 too warm but in every other point of 
 view, its being there, is extremely 
 satisfactory ex-tremely so." 
 
 An exclamation, at once from 
 Richard Swiveller, Miss Sally, and 
 Kit himself, cut the lawyer short. 
 He turned his head, and saw Dick 
 standing with the bank note in his 
 hand. 
 
 " In the hat I " cried Brass, in a 
 sort of shriek. 
 
 " Under thehandkerchief,and tucked 
 beneath the lining," said Dick, aghast 
 at the discovery. 
 
 Mr. Brass looked at him, at his 
 
 sister, at the walls, at the ceiling, at 
 the floor everywhere but at Kit, who 
 stood quite stupified and motionless. 
 
 " And this," cried Sampson, clasping 
 his hands, " is the world that turns 
 upon its own axis, and has Lunar 
 influences, and revolutions round Hea- 
 venly Bodies, and various games of 
 that sort ! This is human natur, is 
 it ! Oh natur, natur ! This is the 
 miscreant that I was going to benefit 
 with all my little arts, and that, even 
 now, I feel so much for, as to wish to 
 let him go ! " But, added Mr. Brass 
 with greater fortitude, " I am myself 
 a lawyer, and bound to set an example 
 in carrying the laws of my happy 
 country into effect. Sally my dear, 
 forgive me, and catch hold of him on 
 the other side. Mr. Richard sir, have 
 the goodness to run and fetch a con- 
 stable. The weakness is past and over 
 sir, and moral strength returns. A 
 constable, sir, if you please ! "
 
 272 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 KIT stood as one entranced, with 
 liis eyes opened wide and fixed upon 
 the ground, regardless alike of the 
 tremulous hold which Mr. Brass 
 maintained on one side of his cravat, 
 and of the firmer grasp of Miss Sally 
 upon the other ; although this latter 
 detention was in itself no small incon- 
 venience, as that fascinating woman, 
 besides screwing her knuckles in- 
 conveniently into his throat from 
 time to time, had fastened upon him 
 in the first instance with so tight a 
 grip that even in the disorder and 
 distraction of his thoughts he could 
 not divest himself of an uneasy sense 
 of choking. Between the brother and 
 sister he remained in this posture, 
 quite unresisting and passive, until 
 Mr. Swiveller returned, with a police 
 constable at his heels. 
 
 This functionary, being, of course, 
 well used to such scenes ; looking upon 
 all kinds of robbery, from petty lar- 
 ceny up to housebreaking or ventures 
 on the highway, as matters in the 
 regular course of business ; and re- 
 garding the perpetrators in the light 
 of so many customers coming to be 
 served at the wholesale and retail 
 shop of criminal law where he stood 
 behind the counter ; received Mr. 
 Brass's statement of facts with about 
 as much interest and surprise, as an 
 undertaker might evince if required 
 to listen to a circumstantial account 
 of the last illness of a person whom he 
 was called in to wait upon profes- 
 sionally ; and took Kit into custody 
 with a decent indifference. 
 
 " We had better," said this subor- 
 dinate minister of justice, " get to the 
 office while there 's a magistrate 
 sitting. I shall want you to come 
 along with us, Mr. Brass, and the " 
 he looked at Miss Sally as if in some 
 doubt whether she might not be a 
 griffin or other fabulous monster. 
 
 " The lady, eh ? " said Sampson. 
 
 " AhJ " replied the constable. " Yes 
 
 the lady. Likewise the young man 
 that found the property." 
 
 " Mr. Richard, sir," said Brass in 
 a mournful voice. " A sad necessity. 
 But the altar of our country sir " 
 
 " You '11 have a hackney coach, I 
 suppose ? " interrupted the constable, 
 holding Kit (whom his other captors 
 had released) carelessly by the arm, 
 a little above the elbow. " Be so 
 good as send for one, will you \ " 
 
 " But, hear me speak a word," cried 
 Kit, raising his eyes and looking implor- 
 ingly about him. " Hear me speak a 
 word. I am no more guilty than any 
 one of you. Upon my soul* I am not. I, 
 a thief ! Oh, Mr. Brass, you know me 
 better. I am sure you know me better. 
 This is not right of you, indeed." 
 
 " I give you my word, constable " 
 said Brass. But here the constable 
 interposed with the constitutional 
 principle " words be blowed ; " ob- 
 serving that words were but spoon- 
 meat for babes and sucklings, and that 
 oaths were the food for strong men. 
 
 " Quite true, constable," assented 
 Brass in the same mournful tone. 
 " Strictly correct. I give you my 
 oath, constable, that down to a few 
 minutes ago, when this fatal discovery 
 was made, I had stlch confidence in 
 that lad, that I 'd have trusted him 
 with a hackney-coach, Mr. Richard 
 sir ; you 're very slow, sir." 
 
 " Who is there that knows me," 
 cried Kit, " that would not trust me 
 that does not ? ask anybody whether 
 they have ever doubted me ; whether 
 I have ever wronged them of a far- 
 thing. Was I ever once dishonest 
 when I was poor and hungry, and is 
 it likely I would begin now ! Oh con- 
 sider what you do. How can I meet 
 the kindest friends that ever human 
 creature had, with this dreadful charge 
 upon me ! " 
 
 Mr. Brass rejoined that it would 
 have been well for the prisoner if he 
 had thought of that, before, and was
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 273 
 
 about to make some other gloomy 
 observations when the voice of the 
 single gentleman was heard, demand- 
 ing from above-stairs what was the 
 matter, and what was the cause of all 
 that noise and hurry. Kit made an 
 involuntary start towards the door 
 in his anxiety to answer for himself, 
 but being speedily detained by the 
 constable, had the agony of seeing 
 Sampson Brass run out alone to tell 
 the story in his own way. 
 
 " And he can hardly believe it, 
 either," said Sampson, when he re- 
 turned, " nor nobody will. I wish I 
 could doubt the evidence of my senses, 
 but their depositions are unimpeach- 
 able. It 's of no use cross-examining 
 my eyes," cried Sampson, winking 
 and rubbing them, "they stick to their 
 first account, and will. Now, Sarah, 
 I hear the coach in the Marks ; get 
 on your bonnet, and we '11 be off. A 
 sad errand ! a moral funeral, quite ! " 
 
 " Mr. Brass," said Kit, " do me one 
 favour. Take me to Mr. Witherden's 
 first." 
 
 Sampson shook his head irresolutely. 
 
 " Do," said Kit. " My master 's there. 
 For Heaven's sake, take me there, first." 
 
 " Well, I don't know," stammered 
 Brass, who perhaps had his reasons 
 for wishing to show as fair as possible 
 in the eyes of the notary. " How do we 
 stand in point of time, constable, eh ? " 
 
 The constable, who had been chew- 
 ing a straw all this while with great 
 philosophy, replied that if they went 
 away at once they would have time 
 enough, but that if they stood shilly- 
 shallying there, any longer, they must 
 , go straight to the Mansion House ; 
 and finally expressed his opinion that 
 that was where it was, and that was 
 all about it. 
 
 Mr. Richard Swiveller having ar- 
 rived inside the coach, and still re- 
 maining immoveable in the most 
 commodious corner with his face to 
 the horses, Mr. Brass instructed the 
 officer to remove his prisoner, and 
 declared himself quite ready. There- 
 fore, the constable, still holding Kit in 
 the same manner, and pushing him 
 on a little before him, so as to keep 
 No. 81. 
 
 him at about three quarters of an 
 arm's length in advance (which is the 
 professional mode), thrust him into 
 the vehicle and followed himself. Miss 
 Sally entered next ; and there being 
 now four inside, Sampson Brass got 
 upon the box, and made the coachman 
 drive on. 
 
 Still completely stunned by the 
 sudden and terrible change which had 
 taken place in his affairs, Kit sat gaz- 
 ing out of the coach window, almost 
 hoping to see some monstrous pheno- 
 menon in the streets which might give 
 him reason to believe he was in a 
 dream. Alas ! Every thing was too 
 real and familiar : the same succession 
 of turnings, the same houses, the same 
 streams of people running side by side 
 in different directions upon the pave- 
 ment, the same bustle of carts and 
 carriages in the road, the same well- 
 remembered objects in the shop win- 
 dows : a regularity in the very noise 
 and hurry which no dream ever mir- 
 rored. Dream-like as the story was, 
 it was true. He stood charged with 
 robbery ; the note had been found 
 upon him, though he was innocent in 
 thought and deed ; and they were 
 carrying him back, a prisoner. 
 
 Absorbed in these painful rumina- 
 tions, thinking with a drooping heart 
 of his mother and little Jacob, feeling 
 as though even the consciousness of 
 innocence would be insufficient to 
 support him in the presence of his 
 friends if they believed him guilty, and 
 sinking in hope and courage more 
 and more as they drew nearer to 
 the notary's, poor Kit was looking 
 earnestly out of the window, observant 
 of nothing, when all at once, as though 
 it had been conjured up by magic, he 
 became aware of the face of Quilp. 
 
 And what a leer there was upon 
 the face ! It was from the open win- 
 dow of a tavern that it looked out ; 
 and the dwarf had so spread himself 
 over it, with his elbows on the window- 
 sill and his head resting on both his 
 hands, that what between this attitude 
 and his being swoln with suppressed 
 laughter, he looked puffed and bloated 
 into twice his usual breadth. Mr. 
 T 18
 
 274 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 Brass, on recognising him, immediately 
 stopped the coach. As it came to a 
 halt directly opposite to where he 
 stood, the dwarf pulled of his hat, and 
 saluted the party with a hideous and 
 grotesque politeness. 
 
 " Aha ! " he cried. " Where now, 
 Brass 1 where now ? Sally with you 
 too ? Sweet Sally ! And Dick ? Plea- 
 sant Dick ! And Kit ? Honest Kit ! " 
 
 " He 's extremely cheerful ! " said 
 Brass to the coachman. " Very much 
 so ! Ah sir a sad business ! Never 
 believe in honesty any more, sir." 
 
 " Why not 1 " returned the dwarf. 
 "Why not, you rogue of a lawyer, 
 why not ? " 
 
 " Bank note lost in our office sir," 
 said Brass, shaking his head. " Found 
 in his hat sir he previously left alone 
 there no mistake at all sir chain of 
 evidence complete not a link wanting." 
 
 " What ! " cried the dwarf, leaning 
 half his body out of window, " Kit a 
 tiiief ! Kit a thief ! Ha ha ha ! Why, 
 he's an uglier-looking thief than can 
 be seen anywhere for a penny. Eh 
 Kit eh ! 11 a ha ha ! Have you taken 
 Kit into custody before he had time 
 and opportunity to beat me ! Eh Kit, 
 eh ! " And with that, he burst into a 
 yell of laughter, manifestly to the great 
 terror of the coachman, and pointed to 
 a dyer's pole hard by, where a dang- 
 ling suit of clothes bore some resem- 
 blance to a man upon a gibbet. 
 
 " Is it coming to that, Kit ! " cried 
 the dwarf, rubbing his hands violently. 
 " Ha ha ha ha ! What a disappoint- 
 ment for little Jacob, and for his dar- 
 ling mother ! Let him have the Bethel 
 minister to comfort and console him, 
 Brass. Eh Kit, eh ? Drive on coachey, 
 drive on. Bye bye Kit ; all good go 
 with you ; keep up your spirits ; my 
 love to the Garlands the dear old lady 
 and gentleman. Say I inquired after 
 'em, will you ? Blessings on 'em, and 
 on you, and on everybody, Kit. Bless- 
 ings on all the world ! " 
 
 With such good wishes and fare- 
 wells, poured out in a rapid torrent 
 until they were out of hearing, Q,uilp 
 suffered them to depart ; and when he 
 could see the coach no longer, drew in 
 
 his head, and rolled upon the ground 
 in an ecstacy of enjoyment. 
 
 When they reached the notary's, 
 which they were not long in doing, for 
 they had encountered the dvarf in a 
 bye street at a very little distance from 
 the house, Mr. Brass dismounted ; and 
 opening the coach door with a melan- 
 choly visage, requested his sister to 
 accompany him into the office, with 
 the view of preparing the good people 
 within, for the mournful intelligence 
 that awaited them. Miss Sally com- 
 plying, he desired Mr. Swiveller to 
 accompany them. So, into the office 
 they went ; Mr. Sampson and his 
 sister arm-in-arm ; and Mr. Swiveller 
 following, alone. 
 
 The notary was standing before the 
 fire in the outer office, talking to Mr. 
 Abel and the elder Mr. Garland, while 
 Mr. Chuckster sat writing at the desk, 
 picking up such crumbs of their con- 
 versation as happened to fall in his 
 way. This posture of affairs Mr. Brass 
 observed through the glass-door as he 
 was turning the handle, and seeing that 
 the notary recognised him, he began 
 to shake his head and sigh deeply 
 while that partition yet divided them. 
 
 " Sir," said Sampson, taking off his 
 hat, and kissing the two forefingers of 
 his right hand beaver glove, "my 
 name is Brass Brass of Bevis Marks 
 sir. I have had the honour and plea- 
 sure, sir, of being concerned against 
 you in some little testamentary mat- 
 ters. How do you do, sir ? " 
 
 " My clerk will attend to any busi- 
 ness you may have come upon, Mr. 
 Brass," said the notary, turning away. 
 
 " Thank you sir," said Brass,"thank 
 you, I am sure. Allow me, sir, to 
 introduce my sister quite one of us 
 sir, although of the weaker sex of 
 great use in my business sir, T assure 
 you. Mr. Richard sir, have the good- 
 ness to come forward if you please 
 No really " said Brass, stepping be- 
 tween the notary and his private 
 office (towards which he had begun 
 to retreat), and speaking in the tone 
 of an injured man, " really sir, I must, 
 under favour, request a word or two 
 with you, indeed."
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 275 
 
 " Mr. Brass," said the other, in a 
 decided tone, "I am engaged. You 
 see that I am occupied with these 
 gentlemen. If you will communicate 
 your business to Mr. Chuckster yonder, 
 you will receive every attention." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Brass, laying his 
 right hand on his waistcoat, and look- 
 ing towards the father and son with a 
 smooth smile " Gentlemen, I appeal 
 to you really, gentlemen consider, 
 I beg of you. I am of the law. I am 
 styled ' gentleman ' by Act of Parlia- 
 ment. I maintain the title by the 
 annual payment of twelve pound ster- 
 ling for a certificate. I am not one 
 of your players of music, stage actors, 
 writers of books, or painters of pic- 
 tures, who assume a station that the 
 laws of their country don't recognise. 
 I am none of your strollers or vaga- 
 bonds. If any man brings his action 
 against me, he must describe me as a 
 gentleman, or his action is null and 
 void. I appeal to you is this quite 
 respectful ? Really, gentlemen " 
 
 " Well, will you have the goodness 
 to state your business then, Mr. 
 Brass ? " said the notary. 
 
 " Sir," rejoined Brass, " I will. Ah 
 Mr. Witherden ! you little know the 
 but I will not be tempted to travel 
 from the point sir. I believe the name 
 of one of these gentlemen is Garland." 
 
 " Of both," said the notary. 
 
 " In-deed !" rejoined Brass, cringing 
 excessively. " But I might have known 
 that, from the uncommon likeness. 
 Extremely happy, I am sure, to have 
 the honour of an introduction to two 
 such gentlemen, although the occasion 
 is a most painful one. One of you 
 gentlemen has a servant called Kit '. " 
 
 " Both," replied the notary. 
 
 " Two Kits I " said Brass smiling. 
 " Dear me ! " 
 
 " One Kit, sir," returned Mr. With- 
 erden angrily, " who is employed by 
 both gentlemen. What of him ? " 
 
 " This of him sir," rejoined Brass, 
 dropping his voice impressively. "That 
 young man, sir, that I have felt un- 
 bounded and unlimited confidence in, 
 and always behaved to as if he was my 
 equal - that young man lias this morn- 
 
 ing committed a robbery in my office, 
 and been taken almost in the fact." 
 
 " This must be some falsehood ! " 
 cried the notary. 
 
 " It is not possible," said Mr. Abel. 
 
 " I '11 not believe one word of it," 
 exclaimed the old gentleman. 
 
 Mr. Brass looked mildly round upon 
 them, and rejoined. 
 
 " Mr. Witherden sir, your words are 
 actionable, and if I was a man of low 
 and mean standing, who couldn't afford 
 to be slandered, I should proceed for 
 damages. Hows' ever sir, being what 
 I am, I merely scorn such expressions. 
 The honest warmth of the other gen- 
 tleman I respect, and I 'm truly sorry 
 to be the messenger of such unpleasant 
 news. I shouldn't have put myself in 
 this painful position, I assure you, bnt 
 that the lad himself desired to be 
 brought here in the first instance, and 
 I yielded to his prayers. Mr. Chuck- 
 ster sir, will you have the goodness to 
 tap at the window for the constable 
 that 's waiting in the coach ? " 
 
 The three gentlemen looked at each 
 other with blank faces when these 
 words were uttered, and Mr. Chuck- 
 ster, doing as he was desired, and 
 leaping off his stool with something of 
 the excitement of an inspired prophet 
 whose foretellings had in the fulness of 
 time been realised, held the door open 
 for the entrance of the wretched captive. 
 
 Such a scene as there was, when Kit 
 came in, and bursting into the rude 
 eloquence with which Truth at length 
 inspired him, called Heaven to witness 
 that he was innocent, and that how the 
 property came to be found upon him 
 he knew not! Such a confusion of 
 tongues, before the circumstances were 
 related, and the proofs disclosed '. 
 Such a dead silence when all was told, 
 and his three friends exchanged, looks 
 of doubt and amazement ! 
 
 " Is it not possible," said Mr. With- 
 erden, after a long pause, " that this 
 note may have found its way into the 
 hat by some accident, such as the 
 removal of papers on the desk, for 
 instance '. " 
 
 But, this was clearly shown to be 
 quite impossible. Mr. Swi veller, though 
 T2
 
 276 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 an unwilling witness, could not help 
 proving to demonstration, from the 
 position in which it was found, that it 
 must have been designedly secreted. 
 
 " It 's very distressing," said Brass, 
 " immensely distressing, I am sure. 
 When he comes to be tried, I shall be 
 very happy to recommend him to 
 mercy on account of his previous 
 good character. I did lose money 
 before, certainly, but it doesn't quite 
 follow that he took it. The presump- 
 tion 's against him strongly against 
 him but we're Christians, I hope ? " 
 
 "I suppose," said the constable, 
 looking round, " that no gentleman 
 here, can give evidence as to whether 
 he 's been flush of money of late. Do 
 you happen to know sir ? " 
 
 " He has had money from time to 
 time, certainly," returned Mr. Gar- 
 land, to whom the man had put the 
 question. " But that, as he always 
 told me, was given him by Mr. Brass 
 himself." 
 
 " Yes to be sure," said Kit eagerly. 
 " You can bear me out in that sir ? " 
 
 " Eh ? " cried Brass, looking from 
 face to face with an expression of 
 stupid amazement. 
 
 " The money you know, the half- 
 crowns, that you gave me from the 
 lodger," said Kit. 
 
 " Oh dear me ! " cried Brass, 
 shaking his head and frowning heavily. 
 " This is a bad case, I find ; a very 
 bad case indeed." 
 
 " What ! Did you give him no money 
 on account of anybody, sir ? " asked 
 Mr. Garland, with great anxiety. 
 
 " / give him money, sir ! " re- 
 turned Sampson. "Oh, come you 
 know, this is too barefaced. Con- 
 stable, my good fellow, we had better 
 be going." 
 
 "What!" shrieked Kit. "Does 
 he deny that he did ? ask him, some- 
 body, pray. Ask him to tell you 
 whether he did or not ! " 
 
 " Did you, sir ? " asked the notary. 
 
 W I tell you what, gentlemen," re- 
 plied Brass, in a very grave manner, 
 " he '11 not serve his case this way, 
 and really, if you feel any interest in 
 him, you had better advise him to go 
 
 upon some other tack. Did I, sir I 
 Of course I never did." 
 
 " Gentlemen," cried Kit, on whom 
 a light broke suddenly, " Master, Mr. 
 Abel, Mr. Witherden, eveiy one of 
 you he did it ! What I have done 
 to offend him, I don't know, but this 
 is a plot to ruin me. Mind, gentle- 
 men, it 's a plot, and whatever comes 
 of it, I will say with my dying breath 
 that he put that note in my hat 
 himself ! Look at him, gentlemen ! 
 See how he changes colour. Which of 
 us looks the guilty person he, or 1 1 " 
 
 " You hear him, gentlemen ? " said 
 Brass, smiling, " you hear him. 
 Now, does this case strike you as 
 assuming rather a black complexion, 
 or does it not ? Is it at all a 
 treacherous case, do you think, or 
 is it one of mere ordinary guilt ? 
 Perhaps, gentlemen, if he had not 
 said this in your presence and I had 
 reported it, you 'd have held this to be 
 impossible likewise, eh ? " 
 
 With such pacific and bantering 
 remarks did Mr. Brass refute the 
 foul aspersion on his character ; but 
 the virtuous Sarah, moved by stronger 
 feelings, and having at heart, perhaps, 
 a more jealous regard for the honour 
 of her family, flew from her brother's 
 side, without any previous intimation 
 of her design, and darted at the 
 prisoner with the utmost fury. It 
 would undoubtedly have gone hard 
 with Kit's face, but that the wary 
 constable, foreseeing her design, drew 
 him aside at the critical moment, 
 and thus placed Mr. Chuckster in 
 circumstances of some jeopardy; for 
 that gentleman happening to be next 
 the object of Miss Brass's wrath ; and 
 rage being, like love and fortune, 
 blind ; was pounced upon by the fail- 
 enslaver, and had a false collar plucked 
 up by the roots, and his hair very 
 much dishevelled, before the exertions 
 of the company could make her sen- 
 sible of her mistake. 
 
 The constable, taking warning by 
 this desperate attack, and thinking 
 perhaps that it would be more satis- 
 factory to the ends of justice if the 
 prisoner were taken before a magis-
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 277 
 
 trate, whole, rather than in small 
 pieces, led him back to the hackney- 
 coach without more ado, and moreover 
 insisted on Miss Brass becoming an 
 outside passenger ; to which proposal 
 the charming creature, after a little 
 angry discussion, yielded her consent ; 
 and so took her brother Sampson's 
 place upon the box : Mr. Brass with 
 some reluctance agreeing to occupy 
 her seat inside. These arrangements 
 perfected, they drove to the justice- 
 room with all speed, followed by the 
 notary and his two friends in another 
 coach. Mr. Ghuckster alone was left 
 behind greatly to his indignation ; 
 for he held the evidence he could 
 have given, relative to Kit's returning 
 to work out the shilling, to be so very 
 
 material as bearing upon his hypo- 
 critical and designing character, that 
 he considered its suppression little 
 better than a compromise of felony. 
 
 At the justice-room, they found 
 the single gentleman, who had gone 
 straight there, and was expecting 
 them with desperate impatience. But, 
 not fifty single gentlemen rolled into 
 one could have helped poor Kit, who 
 in half an hour afterwards was com- 
 mitted for trial, and was assured by a 
 friendly officer on his way to prison 
 that there was no occasion to be cast 
 down, for the sessions would soon be 
 on, and he would, in all likelihood, get 
 his little affair disposed of, and be 
 comfortably transported, in less than 
 a fortnight.
 
 278 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 LET moralists and philosophers saj 
 what they may, it is very questionabl 
 whether a guilty man would have fel 
 half as much misery that night, a 
 Kit did, being innocent. The world 
 being in the constant commission o 
 vast quantities of injustice, is a littl 
 too apt to comfort itself with the idea 
 that if the victim of its falsehood anc 
 malice have a clear conscience, h 
 cannot fail to be sustained under his 
 trials, and somehow or other to c 
 right at last ; " in which case " sai 
 they who have hunted him down 
 " though we certainly don't expec 
 it nobody will be better pleased than 
 we." Whereas, the world would do 
 well to reflect, that injustice is in 
 itself, to every generous and properly 
 constituted mind, an injury, of a 
 others the most insufferable, the mosi 
 torturing, and the most hard to bear 
 and that many clear consciences have 
 gone to their account elsewhere, and 
 many sound hearts have broken, 
 because of this very reason ; the 
 knowledge of their own deserts only 
 aggravating their sufferings, and ren- 
 dering them the less endurable. 
 
 The world, however, was not in 
 fault in Kit's case. But, Kit was 
 innocent ; and knowing this, and 
 feeling that his best friends deemed 
 him guilty that Mr. and Mrs. 
 Garland would look upon him as a 
 monster of ingratitude that Barbara 
 would associate him with all that was 
 bad and criminal that the pony 
 would consider himself forsaken 
 and that even his own mother might 
 perhaps yield to the strong appear- 
 ances against him, and believe him 
 to be the wretch he seemed knowing 
 and feeling all this, he experienced, 
 at first, an agony of mind which no 
 words can describe, and walked up 
 and down the little cell in which he 
 was locked up for the night, almost 
 beside himself with grief. 
 
 Even when the violence of these 
 emotions had in some degree subsided, 
 
 and he was beginning to grow more 
 calm, there came into his mind a new 
 thought, the anguish of which was 
 scarcely less. The child the bright 
 star of the simple fellow's life she, 
 who always came back upon him like 
 a beautiful dream, who had made 
 the poorest part of his existence, the 
 happiest and best who had ever 
 been so gentle, and considerate, and 
 good if she were ever to hear of 
 this, what would she think ! As this 
 idea occurred to him, the walls of the 
 prison seemed to melt away, and the 
 old place to reveal itself in then? stead, 
 as it was wont to be on winter nights 
 the fireside, the little supper table, 
 the old man's hat, and coat, and stick 
 the half-opened door, leading to her 
 little room they were all there. And 
 Nell herself was there, and he both 
 laughing heartily as they had often 
 done and when he had got as far as 
 this, Kit could go no farther, but flung 
 himself upon his poor bedstead and 
 wept. 
 
 It was a long night, which seemed as 
 though it would have no end ; but he 
 slept too, and dreamed always oi 
 being at liberty, and roving about, 
 now with one person and now with 
 another, but ever with a vague dread 
 of being recalled to prison ; not that 
 prison, but one which was in itself a 
 dim idea not of a place, but of a care 
 and sorrow : of something oppressive 
 and always present, and yet impossible 
 to define. At last, the morning dawned, 
 and there was the jail itself cold, 
 black, and dreary, and very real 
 indeed. 
 
 He was left to himself, however, and 
 ;here was comfort in that. He had 
 iberty to walk in a small paved yard 
 at a certain hour, and learnt from the 
 ;urnkey, who came to unlock his cell 
 and show him where to wash, that 
 here was a regular time for visiting, 
 every day, and that if any of his friends 
 :ame to see him, he would be fetched 
 [own to the grate. When he had
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 279 
 
 given him this information, and a tin 
 porringer containing his breakfast, 
 the man locked him up again ; and 
 went clattering along the stone passage, 
 opening and shutting a great many 
 other doors, and raising numberless 
 loud echoes which resounded through 
 the building for a long time, as if they 
 were in prison too, and unable to get 
 out. 
 
 This turnkey had given him to 
 understand that he was lodged, like 
 some few others in the jail, apart from 
 the mass of prisoners ; because he was 
 not supposed to be utterly depraved 
 and irreclaimable, and had never occu- 
 pied apartments in that mansion before. 
 Kit was thankful for this indulgence, 
 and sat reading the church catechism 
 very attentively (though he had known 
 it by heart from a little child), until 
 he heard the key in the lock, and the 
 man entered again. 
 
 " Now then," he said, " come on ! " 
 
 " Where to, sir ? " asked Kit. 
 
 The man contented himself by 
 briefly replying " Wisitors ; " and 
 taking him by the arm in exactly the 
 same manner as the constable had 
 done the day before, led him, through 
 several winding ways and strong gates, 
 into a passage, where he placed him at 
 a grating and turned upon his heel. 
 Beyond this grating, at the distance of 
 about four or five feet, was another, 
 exactly like it. In the space between, 
 sat a turnkey reading a newspaper ; 
 and outside the further railing, Kit saw, 
 with a palpitating heart, his mother 
 with the baby in her arms ; Barbara's 
 mother with her never-failing um- 
 brella ; and poor little Jacob, staring 
 in with all his might, as though he 
 were looking for the bird, or the wild 
 beast, and thought the men were mere 
 accidents with whom the bars could 
 have no possible concern. 
 
 But, when little Jacob saw his 
 brother, and, thrusting his arms be- 
 tween the rails to hug him, found that 
 he came no nearer, but still stood afar 
 off with his head resting on the arm 
 by which he held to one of the bars, 
 he began to cry most piteonsly ; 
 whereupon, Kit's mother and Barbara's 
 
 mother, who had restrained themselves 
 as much as possible, burst out sobbing 
 and weeping afresh. Poor Kit could 
 not help joining them, and not one of 
 them could speak a word. 
 
 During this melancholy pause, the 
 turnkey read his newspaper with a 
 waggish look (he had evidently got 
 among the facetious paragraphs) until, 
 happening to take his eyes off it for 
 an instant, as if to get by dint of con- 
 templation at the very marrow of some 
 joke of a deeper sort than the rest, it 
 appeared to occur to him, for the first 
 time, that somebody was crying. 
 
 " Now, ladies, ladies," he said, look- 
 ing round with surprise, " I 'd advise 
 you not to waste time like this. It 'a 
 allowanced here, you, know. You 
 mustn't let that child make that noise 
 either. It 's against all rules." 
 
 " I 'm his poor mother, sir," sobbed 
 Mrs. Nubbles, curtseying humbly, 
 "and this is his brother, sir. Oh 
 dear me, dear me ! " 
 
 " Well ! " replied the turnkey, fold- 
 ing his paper on his knee, so as to get 
 with greater convenience at the top of 
 the next column. " It can't be helped, 
 you know. He an't the only one in 
 the same fix. You mustn't make a 
 noise about it ! " 
 
 With that, he went on reading. 
 The man was not naturally cruel or 
 hard-hearted. He had come to look 
 upon felony as a kind of disorder, like 
 the scarlet fever or erysipelas : some 
 people had it some hadn't just as 
 it might be. 
 
 " Oh ! my darling Kit," said his 
 mother, whom Barbara's mother had 
 charitably relieved of the baby, " that 
 I should see my poor boy here ! " 
 
 " You don't believe I did what they 
 accuse me of, mother dear ? " cried 
 Kit, in a choking voice. 
 
 " I believe it ! " exclaimed the poor 
 woman, " 7, that never knew you tell a 
 lie, or do a bad action from your cradle 
 that have never had a moment's 
 sorrow on your account, except it was 
 for the poor meals that you have taken 
 with such good-humour and content, 
 that I forgot how little there was, when 
 I thought how kind and thoughtful
 
 280 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 you were, though you were but a 
 child ! I believe it of the son that 's 
 been a comfort to me from the hour of 
 his birth to this time, and that I never 
 laid down one night in anger with ! 
 I believe it of you, Kit ! " 
 
 Why then, thank God ! " said Kit, 
 clutching the bars with an earnestness 
 that shook them, " and I can bear it, 
 mother ! Come what may, I shall 
 always have one drop of happiness in 
 my heart when I think that you said 
 that." 
 
 At this, the poor woman fell a cry- 
 ing again, and Barbara's mother too. 
 And little Jacob, whose disjointed 
 thoughts had by this time resolved 
 themselves into a pretty distinct im- 
 pression that Kit couldn't go out for 
 a walk if he wanted, and that there 
 were no birds, lions, tigers, or other 
 natural curiosities behind those bars 
 nothing indeed, but a caged bro- 
 ther added his tears to theirs with 
 as little noise as possible. 
 
 Kit's mother, drying her eyes (and 
 moistening them, poor soul, more than 
 she dried them), now took from the 
 ground a small basket, and submis- 
 sively addressed herself to the turnkey, 
 saying, would he please to listen to her 
 for a minute ? The turnkey, being in 
 the very crisis and passion of a joke, 
 motioned to her with his hand to keep 
 silent one minute longer, for her life. 
 Nor did he remove his hand into its 
 former posture, but kept it rn the 
 same warning attitude until he had 
 finished the paragraph, when he paused 
 for a few seconds, with a smile upon 
 his face, as who should say " this editor 
 is a comical blade a funny dog," and 
 then asked her what she wanted. 
 
 " I have brought him a little some- 
 thing to eat " said the good woman. 
 " If you please, sir, might he have 
 it?" 
 
 " Yes, he may have it. There 's 
 no rule against that. Give it to me 
 when you go, and I '11 take care he 
 has it." 
 
 " No, but if you please sir don't be 
 angry with me sir I am his mother, 
 and you had a mother once if I 
 might only see him eat a little bit, I 
 
 should go away, so much more satisfied 
 that he was all comfortable." 
 
 And again the tears of Kit's mother 
 burst forth, and of Barbara's mother, 
 and of little Jacob. As to the baby, 
 it was crowing and laughing with all 
 its might under the idea, apparently, 
 that the whole scene had been invented 
 and got up for its particular satis- 
 faction. 
 
 The turnkey looked as if he thought 
 the request a strange one and rather 
 out of the common way, but neverthe- 
 less he laid down his paper, and 
 coming round to where Kit's mother 
 stood, took the basket from her, and 
 after inspecting its contents, handed it 
 to Kit, and went back to his place. It 
 may be easily conceived that the 
 prisoner had no great appetite, but he 
 sat down on the ground, and ate as 
 hard as he could, while, at every morsel 
 he put into his mouth, his mother 
 sobbed and wept afresh, though with 
 a softened grief that bespoke the satis- 
 faction the sight afforded her. 
 
 While he was thus engaged, Kit 
 made some anxious inquiries about his 
 employers, and whether they had ex- 
 pressed any opinion concerninghim,- but 
 all he could learn was, that Mr. Abel 
 had himself broken the intelligence to 
 his mother, with great kindness and 
 delicacy, late on the previous night, 
 but had himself expressed no opinion 
 of his innocence or guilt. Kit was on 
 the point of mustering courage to ask 
 Barbara's mother about Barbara, when 
 the turnkey who had conducted him, 
 re-appeared, a second turnkey ap- 
 peared behind his visitors, and the 
 third turnkey with the newspaper 
 cried " Time 's up ! " adding in the 
 same breath " Now for the next party !" 
 and then plunging deep into his news- 
 paper again. Kit was taken off in an 
 instant, with a blessing from his mo- 
 ther, and a scream from little Jacob, 
 ringing in his ears. As he was crossing 
 the next yard with the basket in his 
 hand, under the guidance of his former 
 conductor, another officer called to 
 them to stop, and came up with a pint- 
 pot of porter in his hand. 
 
 This is Christopher Nubbles isn't
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 it, that come in last night for felony ? " 
 said the man. 
 
 His comrade replied that this was 
 the chicken in question. 
 
 " Then here 's your beer," said the 
 other man to Christopher. " What are 
 you looking at ? There an't a dis- 
 charge in it." 
 
 " I beg your pardon " said Kit. 
 Who sent it me ? " 
 
 " Why, your friend " replied the 
 man. " You 're to have it every day, 
 he says. And so you will, if he pays 
 for it." 
 
 " My friend ! " repeated Kit. 
 
 " You 're all abroad, seemingly," 
 
 returned the other man. " There 's 
 his ietter. Take hold !" 
 
 Kit took it, and when he was locked 
 up again, read as follows. 
 
 " Drink of this cup, you '11 find 
 there 's a spell in, its every drop 'gainst 
 the ills of mortality. Talk of the 
 cordial that sparkled for Helen ! Her 
 cup was a fiction, but this is reality 
 (Barclay and Co.'s). If they ever send 
 it in a flat state, complain to the 
 Governor. Yours R. S." 
 
 " R. S. ! " said Kit, after some con- 
 sideration. " It must be Mr. Richard 
 Swiveller. Well, it 's very kind of him, 
 and I thank him heartily ! "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER LXII. 
 
 A FAIM light, twinkling from the 
 window of the counting-house on 
 Quilp's wharf, and looking inflamed 
 and red through the night-fog, as 
 though it suffered from it like an eye, 
 forewarned Mr. Sampson Brass, as he 
 approached the wooden cabin with a 
 cautious step, that the excellent pro- 
 prietor, his esteemed client, was in- 
 side, and probably waiting with his 
 accustomed patience and sweetness of 
 temper the fulfilment of the appoint- 
 ment which now brought Mr. Brass 
 adthin his fair domain. 
 
 "A treacherous place to pick one's 
 steps in, of a dark night," muttered 
 Sampson, as he stumbled for the 
 twentieth time over some stray 
 lumber, and limped in pain. " I 
 believe that boy strews the ground 
 differently every day, on purpose to 
 bruise and maim one ; unless his 
 master does it with his own hands, 
 which is more than likely. I hate to 
 come to this place without Sally. She 's 
 more protection than a dozen men." 
 
 As he paid this compliment to the 
 merit of the absent charmer, Mr. 
 Brass came to a halt ; looking doubt- 
 fully towards the light, and over his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " What 's he about, I wonder ? " 
 murmured the lawyer, standing on 
 tiptoe and endeavouring to obtain a 
 glimpse of what was passing inside, 
 which at that distance was impossible 
 " drinking, I suppose, making 
 himself more fiery and furious, and 
 heating his malice and mischievous- 
 ness till they boil. I 'm always afraid 
 to come here by myself, when his 
 account 's a pretty large one. I don't 
 believe he 'd mind throttling me, and 
 dropping me softly into the river 
 when the tide was at its strongest, 
 any more than he 'd mind killing a 
 rat indeed I don't know whether he 
 wouldn't consider it a pleasant joke. 
 Hark ! Now he 's singing ! " 
 
 Mr. Quilp was certainly entertain- 
 ing himself with vocal exercise, but it 
 
 was rather a kind of chant than a 
 song ; being a monotonous repetition 
 of one sentence in a very rapid man- 
 ner, with a long stress upon the last 
 word, which he swelled into a dismal 
 roar. Nor did the burden of this 
 performance bear any reference to 
 love, or war, or wine, or loyalty, or 
 any other, the standard topics of song, 
 but to a subject not often set to music 
 or generally known in ballads ; the 
 words being these : " The worthy 
 magistrate, after remarking that the 
 prisoner would find some difficulty in 
 persuading a jury to believe his tale, 
 committed him to take his trial at the 
 approaching sessions ; and directed 
 the customary recognizances to be 
 entered into for the pros-e-cu-tion." 
 
 Every time he came to this con- 
 cluding word, and had exhausted all 
 possible stress upon it, Quilp burst 
 into a shriek of laughter, and began 
 again. 
 
 " He 's dreadfully imprudent," mut- 
 tered Brass, after he had listened to 
 two or three repetitions of the chant. 
 " Horribly imprudent. I wish he was 
 dumb. I wish he was deaf. I wish he 
 was blind. Hang him," cried Brass, 
 as the chant began again. a I wish 
 he was dead !" 
 
 Giving utterance to these friendly 
 aspirations in behalf of his client, Mr. 
 Sampson composed his face into its 
 usual state of smoothness, and waiting 
 until the shriek came again and was 
 dying away, went up to the wooden 
 house, and knocked at the door. 
 
 " Come in ! " cried the dwarf. 
 
 " How do you do to-night sir 1 " 
 said Sampson, peeping in. "Ha ha 
 ha ! How do you do sir ? Oh dear 
 me, how very whimsical ! Amazingly 
 whimsical to be sure ! " 
 
 " Come in, you fool ! " returned the 
 dwarf, " and don't stand there shaking 
 your head and showing your- teeth. 
 Come in, you false witness, you per- 
 jurer, you suborner of evidence, come 
 in!"
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 283 
 
 " He has the richest humour ! " 
 died Brass, shutting the door behind 
 him ; " the most amazing vein of 
 comicality ! But isn't it rather inju- 
 dicious sir ? " 
 
 " What 2 " demanded Quilp, What, 
 Judas ? " 
 
 "Judas!" cried Brass. "He has 
 such extraordinary spirits ! His hu- 
 mour is so extremely playful ! Judas ! 
 Oh yes dear me, how very good ! 
 Ha ha ha!" 
 
 All this time, Sampson was rubbing 
 his hands, and staring, with ludicrous 
 surprise and dismay, at a great, 
 goggle-eyed, blunt-nosed figure-head 
 of some old ship, which was reared 
 up against the wall in a corner near 
 the stove, looking like a goblin or 
 hideous idol whom the dwarf wor- 
 shipped. A mass of timber on its 
 head, carved into the dim and distant 
 semblance of a cocked hat, together 
 with a representation of a star on the 
 left breast and epaulettes on the 
 shoulders, denoted that it was intended 
 for the effigy of some famous admiral ; 
 but, without those helps, any observer 
 might have supposed it the authentic 
 portrait of a distinguished merman, or 
 great sea-monster. Being originally 
 much too large for the apartment 
 which it was now employed to deco- 
 rate, it had been sawn short off at the 
 waist. Even in this state it reached 
 from floor to ceiling ; and thrusting 
 itself forward, with that excessively 
 wide-awake aspect, and air of some- 
 what obtrusive politeness, by which 
 figure-heads are usually characterised, 
 seemed to reduce everything else to 
 mere pigmy proportions. 
 
 " Do you know it I " said the dwarf, 
 watching Sampson's eyes. " Do you 
 see the likeness 1 " 
 
 "Eh?" said Brass, holding his 
 head on one side, and throwing it a 
 little back, as connoisseurs do. " Now 
 I look at it again, I fancy I see a yes, 
 there certainly is something in the 
 smile that reminds me of and yet 
 upon my word I " 
 
 Now, the fact was, that Sampson, 
 having never seen anything in the 
 smallefeo deoree resembling this sub- 
 
 stantial phantom, was much perplexed; 
 being uncertain whether Mr. Quilp 
 considered it like himself, and had 
 therefore bought it for a family por- 
 trait ; or whether he was pleased to 
 consider it as the likeness of some 
 enemy. He was not very long in 
 doubt ; for, while he was surveying it 
 with that knowing look which people 
 assume when they are contemplating 
 for the first time portraits which they 
 ought to recognise but don't, the 
 dwarf threw down the newspaper from 
 which he had been chanting the 
 words already quoted, and seizing a 
 rusty iron bar, which he used in fieu 
 of poker, dealt the figure such a stroke 
 on the nose that it rocked again. 
 
 " Is it like Kit is it his picture, his 
 image, his very self ? " cried the dwarf, 
 aiming a shower of blows at the insen- 
 sible countenance, and covering it with 
 ileep dimples. " Is it the exact model 
 and counterpart of the dog is it is 
 it is it ? " And with every repetition 
 of the question, he battered the great 
 image, until the perspiration streamed 
 down his face with the violence of the 
 exercise. 
 
 Although this might have been a 
 very comical thing to look at from a 
 secure gallery, as a bull-fight is found 
 to be a comfortable spectacle by those 
 who are not in the arena, and a house 
 on fire is better than a play to people 
 who don't live near it, there was some- 
 thing in the earnestness of Mr. Quilp's 
 manner which made his legal adviser 
 feel that the counting-house was a 
 little too small, and a deal too lonely, 
 for the complete enjoyment of these 
 humours. Therefore, he stood as far 
 off as he could, while the dwarf was 
 thus engaged ; whimpering out but 
 feeble applause ; and when Quilp left off 
 and sat down again from pure exhaus- 
 tion, approached with more obsequi- 
 ousness than ever. 
 
 " Excellent indeed ! " cried Brass. 
 * He he! Oh, very good sir. You 
 know," said Sampson, looking round 
 as if in appeal to the bruised admiral, 
 " he 's quite a remarkable man 
 quite ! " 
 
 " Sit down," said the dwarf. u I
 
 284 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 bought the dog yesterday. I 've been 
 screwing gimlets into him, and stick- 
 ing forks in his eyes, and cutting my 
 name on him. I mean to burn him at 
 last." 
 
 " Ha ha ! " cried Brass. " Extremely 
 entertaining, indeed ! " 
 
 " Come here ! " said Quilp, beckon- 
 ing him to draw near. What 's inju- 
 dicious, hey 1 " 
 
 " Nothing sir nothing. Scarcely 
 worth mentioning sir ; but I thought 
 that song admirably humorous in it- 
 self you know was perhaps rather " 
 
 " Yes," said Quilp, " rather what?" 
 
 " Just bordering, or as one may say 
 remotely verging, upon the confines of 
 injudiciousness perhaps sir," returned 
 Brass, looking timidly at the dwarf's 
 cunning eyes, which were turned to- 
 wards the fire and reflected its red 
 light. 
 
 * Why ? " inquired Quilp, without 
 ooking up. 
 
 " Why, you know sir," returned 
 Brass, venturing to be more familiar : 
 " the fact is sir, that any allusion to 
 these little combinings together, of 
 friends, for objects in themselves ex- 
 tremely laudable, but which the law 
 terms conspiracies, are you take me 
 sir ? best kept snug and among 
 friends, you know." 
 
 " Eh ! " said Quilp, looking up with 
 a perfectly vacant countenance. " What 
 do you mean ? " 
 
 " Cautious, exceedingly cautious, 
 very right and proper ! " cried Brass, 
 nodding his head. " Mum sir, even 
 here my meaning sir, exactly." 
 
 " Your meaning exactly, you brazen 
 scarecrow, what 's your meaning ? " 
 retorted Quilp. " Why do you talk to 
 me of combining together ? Do / com- 
 bine ? Do I know anything about 
 your combinings ? " 
 
 " No no, sir certainly not ; not by 
 any means," returned Brass. 
 
 "If you so wink and nod at me," 
 said the dwarf, looking about him as if 
 for his poker, " I '11 spoil the expres- 
 sion of your monkey's face, I will." 
 
 " Don't put yourself out of the way 
 I beg sir," rejoined Brass, checking 
 himself with great alacrity. " You 're 
 
 quite right sir, quite right. I shouldn't 
 have mentioned the subject sir. It 's 
 much better not to. You 're quite 
 right sir. Let us change it, if you 
 please. You were asking, sir, Sally 
 told me, about our lodger. He has 
 not returned sir." 
 
 " No ? " said Quilp, heating some 
 rum in a little saucepan, and watching 
 it to prevent its boiling over. " Why 
 not ? " 
 
 " Why sir r " returned Brass, K he 
 dear me, Mr. Quilp sir " 
 
 "What's the matter?" said the 
 dwarf, stopping his hand in the act of 
 carrying the saucepan to his mouth. 
 
 " You have forgotten the water, sir," 
 said Brass. " And excuse me sir 
 but it 's burning hot." 
 
 Deigning no other than a practical 
 answer to this remonstrance, Mr. 
 Quilp raised the hot saucepan to his 
 lips, and deliberately drank off all the 
 spirit it contained, which might have 
 been in quantity about half a pint, and 
 had been but a moment before, when 
 he took it off the fire, bubbling and 
 hissing fiercely. Having swallowed 
 this gentle stimulant, and shaken his 
 fist at the admiral, he bade Mr. Brass 
 proceed. 
 
 " But first," said Quilp, with his 
 accustomed grin, " have a drop your- 
 self a nice drop a good, warm, fiery 
 drop." 
 
 " Why sir," replied Brass, " if there 
 was such a thing as a mouthful of 
 water that could be got without 
 trouble " 
 
 " There 's no such thing to be had 
 here," cried the dwarf. " Water for 
 lawyers ! Melted lead and brimstone, 
 you mean, nice hot blistering pitch 
 and tar that 's the thing for them 
 eh Brass, eh ? " 
 
 " Ha ha ha ! " laughed Mr. Brass. 
 " Oh very biting ! and yet it 's like 
 being tickled there 's a pleasure in it 
 too, sir ! " 
 
 " Drink that," said the dwarf, who 
 had by this time heated some more. 
 " Toss it off, don't leave any heeltap, 
 scorch your throat and be happy '." 
 
 The wretched Sampson took a few 
 short sips of the liquor, which inline-
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 235 
 
 diately distilled itself into burning j 
 tears, and in that form came rolling 
 down his cheeks into the pipkin again, 
 turning the colour of his face and 
 eyelids to a deep red, and giving rise 
 to a violent fit of coughing, in the 
 midst of which he was still heard to 
 declare, with the constancy of a martyr, 
 that it was "beautiful indeed ! " While 
 he was yet in unspeakable agonies, the 
 dwarf renewed their conversation. 
 
 " The lodger," said Quilp, " what 
 about him ! " 
 
 " He is still sir," returned Brass, 
 with intervals of coughing, " stopping 
 with the Garland family. He has only 
 been home once, sir, since the day of 
 the examination of that culprit. He 
 informed Mr. Richard sir, that he 
 could'nt bear the house after what had 
 taken place ; that he was wretched in 
 it ; and that he looked upon himself 
 as being in a certain kind of way the 
 cause of the occurrence. A very ex- 
 cellent lodger sir. I hope we may not 
 lose him." 
 
 " Yah ! " cried the dwarf. " Never 
 thinking of anybody but yourself 
 why don't you retrench then scrape 
 up, hoard, economise, eh ? " 
 
 " Why sir," replied Brass, " upon 
 my word I think Sarah's as good an 
 economiser as any going. I do indeed, 
 Mr. Quilp." 
 
 " Moisten your clay, wet the other 
 eye, drink man !" cried the dwarf. 
 " You took a clerk to oblige me." 
 
 " Delighted sir, I am sure, at any 
 time," replied Sampson. " Yes sir, 
 I did." 
 
 " Then, now you may discharge 
 him," said Quilp. " There 's a means 
 of retrenchment for you at once." 
 
 " Discharge Mr. Richard sir ? "cried 
 Brass. 
 
 "Have you more than one clerk, 
 you parrot, that you ask the question I 
 Yes." 
 
 " Upon my word sir," said Brass. 
 " I wasn't prepared for this " 
 
 " How could you be ? " sneered the 
 dwarf, " when / wasn't ? How often 
 am I to tell you that I brought him to 
 you that I might always have my eye 
 .on him and know where he was and 
 
 that I had a plot, a scheme, a little 
 quiet piece of enjoyment afoot, of 
 which the very cream and essence was, 
 that this old man and grandchild (who 
 have sunk underground I think) should 
 be, while he and his precious friend 
 believed them rich, in reality as poor 
 as frozen rats ? " 
 
 "I quite understood that sir," re- 
 joined Brass. " Thoroughly." 
 
 " Well sir," retorted Quilp, " and do 
 you understand now, that they 're not 
 poor that they can't be, if they have 
 such men as your lodger searching for 
 them, and scouring the country far and 
 wide." 
 
 " Of course I do sir," said Sampson. 
 
 " Of course you do," retorted the 
 dwarf, viciously snapping at his words. 
 " Of course do you understand then, 
 that it 's no matter what comes of this 
 fellow* of course do you understand 
 that for any other purpose he 's no 
 man for me, nor for you ? " 
 
 "I have frequently said to Sarah 
 sir," returned Brass, " that he was of 
 no use at all in the business. You 
 can't put any confidence in him sir. 
 If you '11 believe me I 've found that 
 fellow, in the commonest little matters 
 of the office that have been trusted to 
 him, blurting out the truth, though 
 expressly cautioned. The aggravation 
 of that chap sir, has exceeded anything 
 you can imagine, it has indeed. No- 
 thing but the respect and obligation I 
 owe to you sir " 
 
 As it was plain that Sampson was 
 bent on a complimentary harangue, 
 unless he received a timely interrup- 
 tion, Mr. Quilp politely tapped him on 
 the crown of his head with the little 
 saucepan, and requested that he would 
 be so obliging as to hold his peace. 
 
 " Practical, sir, practical," said Brass, 
 rubbing the place and smiling ; " but 
 still extremely pleasant immensely 
 so ! " 
 
 " Hearken to me, will you ! " re- 
 turned Quilp, " or I '11 be a little more 
 pleasant, presently. There 's no chance 
 of his comrade and friend returning. 
 The scamp has been obliged to fly, as I 
 learo, for some knavery, and has found 
 his-way abroad. Let him rot there."
 
 286 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 " Certainly sir. Quite proper. 
 Forcible ! " cried Brass, glancing at 
 the admiral again, as if he made 
 a third in company. " Extremely 
 forcible !" 
 
 " I hate him," said Quilp between 
 his teeth, "and have always hated 
 him, for family reasons. Besides, he 
 was an intractable ruffian ; otherwise 
 Tie would have been of use. This fellow 
 is pigeon-hearted, and light-headed. I 
 don't want him any longer. Let him 
 hang or drown starve go to the 
 devil." 
 
 " By all means, sir." returned Brass. 
 "When would you wish him sir, 
 to ha, ha ! to make that little 
 excursion ? " 
 
 " When this trial's over," said Quilp. 
 " As soon as that 's ended, send him 
 about his business." 
 
 " It shall be done, sir," returned 
 Brass ; " by all means. It will be 
 rather a blow to Sarah, sir, but she 
 has all her feelings under control. Ah, 
 Mr. Quilp, I often think sir, if it had 
 only pleased Providence to bring you 
 and Sarah together, in earlier life, what 
 blessed results would have flowed from 
 such a union ! You never saw our 
 dear father, sir ? A charming gentle- 
 man. Sarah was his pride and joy, 
 sir. He would have closed his eyes in 
 bliss, would Foxey, Mr. Quilp, if he 
 could have found her such a partner. 
 You esteem her, sir ? " 
 
 " I love her," croaked the dwarf. 
 
 " You 're very good, sir," returned 
 Brass, "I am sure. Is there any other 
 order, sir, that I can take a note 
 of, besides this little matter of Mr. 
 Richard ! " 
 
 " None," replied the dwarf, seizing 
 the saucepan. " Let us drink the 
 lovely Sarah." 
 
 " If we could do it in something, 
 sir, that wasn't quite boiling," sug- 
 gested Brass humbly, " perhaps it 
 would be better. I think it will be 
 more agreeable to Sarah's feelings, when 
 she comes to hear from me of the 
 honour you have done her, if she 
 learns it was in liquor rather cooler 
 than the last, sir." 
 
 But to these remonstrances, Mr. 
 
 Quilp turned a deaf ear. Sampson 
 Brass, who was, by this time, anything 
 but sober, being compelled to take 
 further draughts of the same strong 
 bowl, found that, instead of at all con- 
 tributing to his recovery, they had the 
 novel effect of making the counting- 
 house spin round and round with 
 extreme velocity, and causing the floor 
 and ceiling to heave in a very dis- 
 tressing manner. After a brief stupor, 
 he awoke to a consciousness of being 
 partly under the table and partly under 
 the grate. This position not being the 
 most comfortable one he could have 
 chosen for himself, he managed to 
 stagger to his feet, and, holding on by 
 the admiral, looked round for his host. 
 
 Mr. Brass's first impression was, 
 that his host was gone and had left 
 him there alone perhaps locked him 
 in for the night. A strong smell of 
 tobacco, however, suggesting a new 
 train of ideas, he looked upward, and 
 saw that the dwarf was smoking in his 
 hammock. 
 
 " Good bye, sir," cried Brass faintly. 
 " Good bye, sir." 
 
 " Won't you stop all night ? " said 
 the dwarf, peeping out. " Do stop all 
 night!" 
 
 " I couldn't indeed, sir," replied 
 Brass, who was almost dead from 
 nausea and the closeness of the room. 
 " If you 'd have the goodness to show 
 me a light, so that I may see my way 
 across the yard, sir " 
 
 Quilp was out in an instant ; not 
 with his legs first, or his head first, or 
 his arms first, but bodily altogether. 
 
 " To be sure," he said, taking up a 
 lantern, which was now the only light 
 in the place. " Be careful how you 
 go, my dear friend. Be sure to pick 
 your way among the timber, for all 
 the rusty nails are upwards. There 's 
 a dog in the lane. He bit a man last 
 night, and a woman the night before, 
 and last Tuesday he killed a child . 
 but that was in play. Don't go too 
 near him." 
 
 "Which side of the road is he, 
 sir ? " asked Brass, in great dismay. 
 
 " He lives on the right hand," said 
 Quilp, " but sometimes he hides on the
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 287 
 
 left, ready for a spring. He 's uncer- 
 tain in that respect. Mind you take 
 care of yourself. I '11 never forgive 
 you if you don't There 's the light 
 out never mind you know the way 
 straight on ! " 
 
 to foot in a rapture of delight, as he 
 heard the lawyer stumbling up the 
 yard, and now and then falling heavily 
 down. At length, however, he got 
 quit of the place, and was out of 
 hearing. 
 
 Quilp had slyly shaded the light by The dwarf shut himself up again, and 
 holding it against his breast, and now sprang once more into his hammock, 
 stood chuckling and shaking from head i
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIII. 
 
 THE professional gentleman who had 
 given Kit that consolatory piece of 
 information relative to the settlement 
 of his trifle of business at the Old 
 Bailey, and the probability of its being 
 very soon disposed of, turned out to 
 be quite correct in his prognostications. 
 In eight days' time, the sessions com- 
 menced. In one day afterwards, the 
 Grand Jury found a True Bill against 
 Christopher Nubbles for felony ; and 
 in two days from that finding, the 
 aforesaid Christopher Nubbles was 
 called upon to plead Guilty or Not 
 Guilty to an Indictment for that he 
 the said Christopher did feloniously 
 abstract and steal from the dwelling- 
 house and office of one Sampson Brass, 
 gentleman, one Bank Note for Five 
 Pounds issued by the Governor and 
 Company of the Bank of England ; in 
 contravention of the Statutes in that 
 case made and provided, and against 
 the peace of our Sovereign Lord the 
 King, his crown, and dignity. 
 
 To this indictment, Christopher Nub- 
 bles, in a low and trembling voice, 
 pleaded Not Guilty : and here, let those 
 who are in the habit of forming hasty 
 judgments from appearances, and who 
 would have had Christopher, if inno- 
 cent, speak out very strong and loud, 
 observe, that confinement and anxiety 
 will subdue the stoutest hearts ; and 
 that to one who has been close shut 
 up, though it be only for ten or eleven 
 days, seeing but stone walls and a very 
 few stony faces, the sudden entrance 
 into a great hall filled with life, is a 
 rather disconcerting and startling cir- 
 cumstance. To this, it must be added, 
 that life in a wig, is, to a large class of 
 people, much more terrifying and im- 
 pressive than life with its own head of 
 hair ; and if, in addition to these 
 considerations, there be taken into 
 account Kit's natural emotion on 
 seeing the two Mr. Garlands and the 
 little Notary looking on with pale and 
 anxious faces, it will perhaps seem 
 matter of no very great wonder that 
 
 he should have been rather out of 
 sorts, and unable to make himself 
 quite at home. 
 
 Although he had never seen either 
 of the Mr. Garlands, or Mr. Witherden, 
 since the time of his arrest, he had 
 been given to understand that they had 
 employed counsel for him. There- 
 fore, when one of the gentlemen in 
 wigs got up and said " I am for the 
 prisoner my Lord," Kit made him a 
 bow ; and when another gentleman in 
 a wig got up and said " And I 'm 
 against him my Lord," Kit trembled 
 very much, and bowed to him too. 
 And didn't he hope in his own heart 
 that his gentleman was a match for 
 the other gentleman, and would make 
 him ashamed of himself in no time ! 
 
 The gentleman who was against him 
 had to speak first, and being in dread- 
 fully good spirits (for he had, in the 
 last trial, very nearly procured the 
 acquittal of a young gentleman who 
 had had the misfortune to murder his 
 father) he spoke up, you may be sure ; 
 telling the Jury that if they acquitted 
 this prisoner they must expect to suffer 
 no less pangs and agonies than he had 
 told the other Jury they would cer- 
 tainly undergo if they convicted that 
 prisoner. And when he had told them 
 all about the case, and that he had 
 never known a worse case, he stopped 
 a little while, like a man who had 
 something terrible to tell them, and 
 then said that he understood an 
 attempt would be made by his learned 
 friend (and here he looked sideways at 
 Kit's gentleman) to impeach the testi- 
 mony of those immaculate witnesses 
 whom he should call before them ; but 
 he did hope and trust that his learned 
 friend would have a greater respect 
 and veneration for the character of 
 the prosecutor ; than whom, as he well 
 knew, there did not exist, and never 
 had existed, a more honourable mem- 
 ber of that most honourable profession 
 to which he was attached. And then 
 he said, did the Jury know Bevis
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 289 
 
 Marks ? And if they did know Bevis 
 Marks (as he trusted, for their own 
 characters, they did) did they know 
 the historical and elevating associa- 
 tions connected with that most re- 
 markable spot 1 Did they believe that 
 a man like Brass could reside in a 
 place like Bevis Marks, and not be a 
 virtuous and most upright character ! 
 And when he had said a great deal to 
 them on this point, he remembered 
 that it was an insult to their under- 
 standings to make any remarks on 
 what they must have felt so strongly 
 without him, and therefore called 
 Sampson Brass into the witness-box, 
 straightway. 
 
 Then up comes Mr. Brass, very 
 brisk and fresh ; and, having bowed to 
 the judge, like a man who has had the 
 pleasure of seeing him before, and who 
 hopes he has been pretty well since 
 their last meeting, folds his arms, and 
 looks at his gentleman as much as to 
 say " Here I am full of evidence 
 Tap me ! " And the gentleman does 
 tap him presently, and with great dis- 
 cretion too ; drawing off the evidence 
 by little and little, and making it run 
 quite clear and bright in the eyes 
 of all present. Then, Kit's gentleman 
 takes him in hand, but can make 
 nothing of him; and after a great 
 many very long questions and very 
 short answers, Mr. Sampson Brass 
 goes down in glory. 
 
 To him succeeds Sarah, who in like 
 manner is easy to be managed by Mr. 
 Brass's gentleman, but very obdurate 
 to Kit's. In short, Kit's gentleman 
 can get nothing out of her but a repeti- 
 tion of what she has said before (only 
 a h'ttle stronger this time, as against 
 his client), and therefore lets her go, 
 in some confusion. Then, Mr. Brass's 
 gentleman calls Richard Swiveller, and 
 Richard Swiveller appears accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 Now, Mr. Brass's gentleman has it 
 whispered hi his ear that this witness 
 is disposed to be friendly to the pri- 
 soner which, to say the truth, he is 
 rather glad to hear, as his strength is 
 considered to lie in what is familiarly 
 termed badgering. Wherefore, he 
 
 No. 82. 
 
 begins by requesting the officer to be 
 quite sure that this witness kisses the 
 book, and then goes to work at him, 
 tooth and nail. 
 
 " Mr. Swiveller," says this gentle- 
 man to Dick, when he has told his 
 tale with evident reluctance and a de- 
 sire to make the best of it : " Pray sir, 
 where did you dine yesterday ? " 
 " Where did I dine yesterday ? " 
 " Aye sir, where did you dine yester- 
 day was it near here sir ? " " Oh -to 
 be sure yes just over the way " 
 " To be sure. Yes. Just over the 
 way," repeats Mr. Brass's gentleman, 
 with a glance at the court " Alone 
 sir ? " " I beg your pardon," says 
 Mr. Swiveller, who has not caught tho 
 question " A lone sir ? " repeats Mr. 
 Brass's gentleman in a voice of thun- 
 der, " did you dine alone * Did you 
 treat anybody sir ? Come ! " *' Oh 
 yes to be sure yes, I did," says Mr. 
 Swiveller with a smile. "Have the 
 goodness to banish a levity, sir, which 
 is very ill-suited to the place hi which 
 you stand (though perhaps you have 
 reason to be thankful that it 's only 
 that place)," says Mr. Brass's gentle- 
 man, with a nod of the head, insinuat- 
 ing that the dock is Mr. Swiveller's 
 legitimate sphere of action ; " and 
 attend to me. You were waiting about 
 here, yesterday, in expectation that this 
 trial was coming on. You dined over 
 the way. You treated somebody. 
 Now, was that somebody brother to 
 the prisoner at the bar ? " Mr. Swi- 
 veller is proceeding to explain " Yes 
 or No sir," cries Mr. Brass's gentleman 
 " But will you allow me " " Yes 
 or No sir" "Yes it was, but " 
 " Yes it was," cries the gentleman, 
 taking him np short "And a very 
 pretty witness you are ! " 
 
 Down sits Mr. Brass's gentleman. 
 Kit's gentleman, not knowing how the 
 matter really stands, is afraid to pursue 
 the subject. Richard Swiveller retires 
 abashed. Judge, jury, and spectators, 
 have visions of his lounging about, with 
 an ill-looking, large-whiskered, disso- 
 lute young fellow of six feet high. The 
 reality is, little Jacob, with the calves 
 of his legs exposed to the open air, 
 c 19
 
 290 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 and himself tied up in a shawl. No- 
 body knows the truth ; everybody 
 believes a falsehood ; and all because 
 of the ingenuity of Mr, Brass's gentle- 
 man. 
 
 Then, come the witnesses to cha- 
 racter, and here Mr. Brass's gentleman 
 shines again. It turns out that Mr. 
 Garland has had no character with 
 Kit, no recommendation of him but 
 from his own mother, and that he was 
 suddenly dismissed by his former 
 master for unknown reasons. "Really 
 Mr. Garland " says Mr, Brass's gen- 
 tleman, " for a person who has arrived 
 at your time of life, you are, to say 
 the least of it, singularly indiscreet, I 
 think." The Jury think so too, and 
 find Kit guilty. He is taken off, 
 humbly protesting his innocence. The 
 spectators settle themselves in their 
 places with renewed attention, for 
 there are several female witnesses to 
 be examined in the next case, and it 
 has been rumoured that Mr. Brass's 
 gentleman will make great fun in cross- 
 examining them for the prisoner. 
 
 Kit's mother, poor woman, is wait- 
 ing at the grate below stairs, accom- 
 panied by Barbara's mother (who, 
 honest soul ! never does anything but 
 cry, and hold the baby), and a sad 
 interview ensues. The newspaper- 
 reading-turnkey has told them all. 
 He don't think it will be transporta- 
 tion for life, because there's time to 
 prove the good character yet, and that 
 is sure to serve him. He wonders 
 what he did it for. "He never did 
 it! "cries Kit's mother. "Well," says 
 the turnkey, " I won't contradict you. 
 It 's all one, now, whether he did it 
 or not." 
 
 Kit's mother can reach his hand 
 through the bars, and she clasps it- 
 God, and those to whom He has given 
 such tenderness, only know in how 
 much agony. Kit bids her keep a good 
 heart, and, under pretence of having 
 the children lifted up to kiss him, 
 prays Barbara's mother in a whisper 
 to take her home. 
 
 " Some friend will rise np for us, 
 mother," cries Kit, "I am sure. If 
 not now, before long. My innocence 
 
 will come out, mother, and I shall be 
 brought back again ; I feel a coafi... 
 dence in that. You must teach little 
 Jacob and the baby how all this was, 
 for if they thought I had ever been 
 dishonest, when they grew old enough 
 to understand, it would break my 
 heart to know it, if I was thousands 
 of miles away. Oh ! is there no good 
 gentleman here, who will take care of 
 her!" 
 
 The hand slips out of his, for the 
 poor creature sinks down upon the 
 earth, insensible. Richard Swiveller 
 comes hastily up, elbows the by- 
 standers out of the way, takes her 
 (after some trouble) in one arm after 
 the manner of theatrical ravishers, 
 and, nodding to Kit, and commanding 
 Barbara's mother to follow, for he has 
 a coach waiting, bears her swiftly off. 
 
 Well ; Richard took her home. And 
 what astonishing absurdities in the 
 way of quotation from song and poem, 
 he perpetrated on the road, no man 
 knows. He took her home, and staid 
 till she was recovered ; and, having no 
 money to pay the coach, went back in 
 state to Bevis Marks, bidding the 
 driver (for it was Saturday night) 
 wait at the door while he went in for 
 " change." 
 
 "Mr. Richard sir," said Brass 
 cheerfully, "Good evening !" 
 
 Monstrous as Kit's tale had ap- 
 peared, at first, Mr. Richard did, that 
 night, half suspect his affable em- 
 ployer of some deep villany. Per- 
 haps it was but the misery he had 
 just witnessed which gave his careless 
 nature this impulse ; but, be that as it 
 may, it was very strong upon him, 
 and he said in as few words as pos- 
 sible, what he wanted. 
 
 "Money?" cried Brass, taking out 
 his purse. " Ha ha ! To be sure Mr. 
 Richard, to be sure sir. All men 
 must live. You haven't change for a 
 five pound note, have you sir ? " 
 
 " No," returned Dick, shortly. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Brass, " here 's the very 
 sum. That savs trouble. You're very 
 welcome I'm sure. Mr. Richard sir " 
 
 Dick, who had by this time reached 
 the door, turned round.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 291 
 
 "Yon needn 't," s^d Brass, "trouble 
 yourself to come back any more sir." 
 
 Eh?" 
 
 "You see, Mr. Richard," said 
 Brass, thrusting his hands in his 
 pockets, and rocking himself to and 
 fro on his stool, " the fact is, that a 
 man of your abilities is lost sir, quite 
 lost, in our dry and mouldy line. It's 
 terrible drudgery shocking. I should 
 say, now, that the stage, or the or the 
 army Mr. Richard or something very 
 superior in the licensed victualling 
 way was the kind of thing that would 
 call out the genius of such a man as 
 you. I hope you'll look in to see us 
 now and then. Sally, sir, will be 
 delighted I 'm sure. She 's extremely 
 sorry to lose you Mr. Richard, but a 
 sense of her duty to society reconciles 
 her. An amazing creature that, sir ! 
 You '11 find the money quite correct, I 
 think. There 's a cracked window sir, 
 but I've not made any deduction on 
 that account. Whenever we part with 
 friends, Mr. Richard, let us part 
 liberally. A delightful sentiment sir ! " 
 
 To all these rambling observations, 
 Mr. Swiveller answered not one word. 
 
 but, returning for the aquatic jacket, 
 rolled it into a tight round ball : looking 
 steadily at Brass meanwhile as if he 
 had some intention of bowling him 
 down with it. He only took it under 
 his arm, however, and marched out of 
 the office in profound silence. When 
 he had closed the door, he re-opened it, 
 stared in again for a few moments 
 with the same portentous gravity, 
 and nodding his head once, in a slow 
 and ghost-like manner, vanished. 
 
 He paid the coachman, and turned 
 his back on Bevis Marks, big with 
 great designs for the comforting of 
 Kit's mother and the aid of Kit 
 himself. 
 
 But, the lives of gentlemen devoted 
 to such pleasures as Richard Swiveller, 
 are extremely precarious. The spiritual 
 excitement of the last fortnight, work- 
 ing upon a system affected in no slight 
 degree by the spirituous excitement of 
 some years, proved a little too much 
 for him. That very night, Mr. Richard 
 was seized with an alarming illness, 
 and in twenty-four hours was stricken 
 with a raging fever.
 
 292 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 TOSSING to and fro upon his hot, 
 uneasy bed ; tormented by a fierce 
 thirst which nothing could appease ; 
 unable to find, in any change of pos- 
 ture, a moment's peace or ease; and 
 rambling, ever, through deserts of 
 thought where there was no resting- 
 place, no sight or- sound suggestive of 
 refreshment or repose, nothing but a 
 dull eternal weariness, with no change 
 "but the restless shiftings of his miser- 
 able body, and the weary wanderings 
 of his mind, constant still to one ever- 
 present anxiety to a sense of some- 
 tiling left undone, of some fearful 
 obstacle to be surmounted, of some 
 carking care that would not be driven 
 .away, and which haunted the distem- 
 pered brain, now in this form, now in 
 that, always shadowy and dim, but 
 recognisable for the same phantom in 
 every shape it took : darkening every 
 vision like an evil conscience, and 
 making slumber horrible in these 
 slow tortures of his dread disease, the 
 unfortunate Richard lay wasting and 
 consuming inch by inch, until, at last, 
 when he seemed to fight and struggle 
 to rise up, and to be held down by 
 devils, he sank into a deep sleep, and 
 dreamed no more. 
 
 He awoke. With a sensation of 
 most blissful rest, better than sleep 
 itself, he began gradually to remember 
 something of these sufferings, and to 
 think what a long night it had been, 
 and whether he had not been delirious 
 twice or thrice. Happening, in the 
 midst of these cogitations, to raise his 
 hand, he was astonished to find how 
 heavy it seemed, and yet how thin 
 and light it really was. Still, he felt 
 indifferent and happy ; and having no 
 curiosity to pursue the subject, re- 
 mained in the same waking slumber 
 until his attention was attracted by a 
 cough. This made him doubt, whether 
 he had locked his door last night, and 
 feel a little surprised at having a com- 
 panion in the room. Still, he lacked 
 nergy to follow up this train of 
 
 thought ; and unconsciously fell, in a 
 luxury of repose, to staring at some 
 green stripes on the bed-furniture, 
 and associating them strangely with 
 patches of fresh turf, while the yellow 
 ground between, made gravel- walks, 
 and so helped out a long perspective 
 of trim gardens. 
 
 He was rambling in imagination 
 on these terraces, and had quite lost 
 himself among them indeed, when he 
 heard the cough once more. The walks 
 shrunk into stripes again at the sound ; 
 and raising himself a little in the bed, 
 and holding the curtain open with one 
 hand, he looked out. 
 
 The same room certainly, and still 
 by candle-light ; but with what un- 
 bounded astonishment did he see all 
 those bottles, and basins, and articles 
 of linen airing by the fire, and such- 
 like furniture of a sick chamber all 
 very clean and neat, but all quite 
 different from anything he had left 
 there, when he went to bed ! The 
 atmosphere, too, filled with a cool 
 smell of herbs and vinegar ; the floor 
 newly sprinkled ; the the what ! The 
 Marchioness ? 
 
 Yes ; playing cribbage with herself 
 at the table. There she sat, intent upon 
 her game, coughing now and then in a 
 subdued manner as if she feared to dis- 
 turb him shuffling the cards, cutting, 
 dealing, playing, counting, pegging 
 going through all the mysteries of crib- 
 bage as if she had been in full practice 
 from her cradle ! 
 
 Mr. Swiveller contemplated these 
 things for a short time, and suffering 
 the curtain to fall into its former posi- 
 tion, laid his head on the pillow again. 
 
 " I 'in dreaming," thought Richard, 
 "that's clear. When I went to bed, 
 my hands were not made of egg- 
 shells ; and now I can almost see 
 through 'em. If this is not a dream, 
 I have woke up, by mistake, in an 
 Arabian Night, instead of a London 
 one. But I have no doubt I 'm asleep. 
 Not the least."
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 293 
 
 Here the small servant had another 
 cough. 
 
 " Very remarkable ! " thought Mr. 
 Swiveller. "I never dreamt such a 
 real cough as that, before. I don't 
 know, indeed, that I ever dreamt 
 either a cough or a sneeze. Perhaps 
 it's part of the philosophy of dreams 
 that one never does. There's an- 
 other and another I say ! I'm 
 dreaming rather fast ! " 
 
 For the purpose of testing his real 
 condition, Mr. Swiveller, after some 
 reflection, pinched himself in the arm. 
 
 "Queerer still!" he thought. "I 
 came to bed rather plump than other- 
 wise, and now there's nothing to lay 
 hold of. I '11 take another survey." 
 
 The result of this additional inspec- 
 tion was, to convince Mr. Swiveller 
 that the objects by which he was sur- 
 rounded were real, and that he saw 
 them, beyond all question, with his 
 waking eyes. 
 
 "It's an Arabian Night ; that's what 
 it is," said Richard. " I'm in Damascus 
 or Grand Cairo. The Marchioness is a 
 Genie, and having had a wager with 
 another Genie about who is the hand- 
 somest young man alive, and the wor- 
 thiest to be the husband of the Princess 
 of China, has brought me away, room 
 and all, to compare us together. Per- 
 haps," said Mr. Swiveller, turning 
 languidly round on his pillow, and 
 looking on that side of his bed which 
 was next the wall, " the Princess may 
 Toe still No, she's gone." 
 
 Not feeling quite satisfied with this 
 explanation, as, even taking it to be 
 the correct one, it still involved a little 
 mystery and doubt, Mr. Swiveller 
 raised the curtain again, determined to 
 take, the first favourable opportunity 
 of addressing his companion. An 
 occasion soon presented itself. The 
 Marchioness dealt, turned up a knave, 
 and omitted to take the usual advan- 
 tage ; upon which Mr. Swiveller called 
 out as loud as he could " Two for his 
 heels ! " 
 
 The Marchioness jumped up quickly, 
 and clapped her hands. " Arabian 
 Night, certainly," thought Mr. Swiv- 
 eller ; " they always clap their hands 
 
 instead of ringing the bell. Now for 
 the two thousand black slaves, with 
 jars of jewels on their heads ! " 
 
 It appeared, however, that she had 
 only clapped her hands for joy ; as, 
 directly afterwards she began to laugh, 
 and then to cry; declaring, not in 
 choice Arabic but in familiar English, 
 that she was "so glad, she didn't 
 know what to do." 
 
 " Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller, 
 thoughtfully, "be pleased to draw 
 nearer. First of all, will you have 
 the goodness to inform me where I 
 shall find my voice ; and secondly, 
 what has become of my flesh ? " 
 
 The Marchioness only shook her 
 head mournfully, and cried again ; 
 whereupon Mr. Swiveller (being very 
 weak) felt his own eyes affected 
 likewise. 
 
 " I begin to infer, from your man- 
 ner, and these appearances, Mar- 
 chioness," said Richard after a 
 pause, and smiling with a trembling 
 lip, "that I have been ill." 
 
 " You just have ! " replied the 
 small servant, wiping her eyes. " And 
 haven't you been a talking nonsense ! " 
 
 "Oh!" said Dick. "Very ill, 
 Marchioness, have I been ?" 
 
 "Dead, all but," replied the small 
 servant. " I never thought you'd get 
 better. Thank Heaven you have ! " 
 
 Mr. Swiveller was silent for a long 
 while. Bye and bye, he began to talk 
 again : inquiring how long he had 
 been there. 
 
 " Three weeks to-morrow," replied 
 the small servant. 
 
 Three what 1 " said Dick. 
 
 " Weeks," returned the Marchioness 
 emphatically ; "three long, slow, 
 weeks." 
 
 The bare thought of having been in 
 such extremity, caused Richard to fall 
 into another silence, and to lie flat 
 down again, at his full length. The 
 Marchioness, having arranged the bed- 
 clothes more comfortably, and felt that 
 his hands and forehead were quite 
 cool a discovery that filled her with 
 delight cried a little more, and then 
 applied herself to getting tea ready, 
 an making some thin dry toast.
 
 294 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 While she was thus engaged, Mr. 
 Swiveller looked on with a grateful 
 heart, very much astonished to see 
 how thoroughly at home she made 
 herself, and attributing this attention, 
 in its origin, to Sally Brass, whom, in 
 his own mind, he could not thank 
 enough. When the Marchioness had 
 finished her toasting, she spread a 
 clean cloth on a tray, and brought him 
 some crisp slices and a great basin of 
 weak tea, with which (she said) the 
 doctor had left word he might refresh 
 himself when he awoke. She propped 
 him up with pillows, if not as skilfully 
 as if she had been a professional nurse 
 all her life, at least as tenderly ; and 
 looked on with unutterable satisfac- 
 tion while the patient stopping every 
 now and then to shake her by the 
 hand took his poor meal with an 
 appetite and relish, which the greatest 
 dainties of the earth, under any other 
 circumstances, would have failed to 
 provoke. Having cleared away, and 
 disposed everything comfortably about 
 him again, she sat down at the table to 
 take her own tea. 
 
 " Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller, 
 "how's Sally?" 
 
 The small servant screwed her face 
 into an expression of the very utter- 
 most entanglement of slyness, and 
 shook her head. 
 
 " What, haven't you seen her 
 lately ? " said Dick. 
 
 " Seen her ! " cried the small ser- 
 vant. " Bless you, I 've run away !" 
 
 Mr. Swiveller immediately laid him- 
 self down again quite flat, and so re- 
 mained for about five minutes. By 
 slow degrees he resumed his sitting 
 posture after that lapse of time, and 
 inquired : 
 
 " And where do you live, Mar- 
 chioness?" 
 
 " Live ! " cried the small servant. 
 "Here!" 
 
 " Oh ! " said Mr. Swiveller. 
 
 And with that he fell down flat 
 again, as suddesily as if he had been 
 shot. Thus he remained, motionless 
 and bereft of speech, until she had 
 finished her meal, put everything in its 
 place, and swept the hearth ; when he 
 
 motioned her to bring a chair to the 
 bedside, and, being propped up again, 
 opened a farther conversation. 
 
 "And so," said Dick, "you have 
 run away ? " 
 
 "Yes," said the Marchioness, "and 
 they 've been a tizing of me." 
 
 " Been I beg your pardon," said 
 Dick "what have they been doing?" 
 
 " Been a tiziug of me tizing you 
 know in the newspapers," rejoined 
 the Marchioness. 
 
 " Aye, aye," said Dick, " adver- 
 
 The small servant nodded, and 
 winked. Her eyes were so red with 
 waking and crying, that the Tragic 
 Muse might have winked with greater 
 consistency. And so Dick felt. 
 
 "Tell me," said he, "how it was 
 that you thought of coming here." 
 
 "Why, you see," returned the 
 Marchioness, " when you was gone, 1 
 hadn't any friend at all, because the 
 lodger he never come back, and I 
 didn't know where either him or you 
 was to be found, you know. But one 
 morning, when I was " 
 
 " Was near a keyhole ? " suggested 
 Mr. Swiveller, observing that she 
 faltered. 
 
 "Well then," said the small ser- 
 vant, nodding ; " when I was near 
 the office keyhole as you see me 
 through, you know I heard some- 
 body saying that she lived here, and 
 was the lady whose house you lodged at, 
 and that you was took very bad, and 
 wouldn't nobody come and take care of 
 you. Mr. Brass, he says, ' It 's no 
 business of mine, ' he says ; and Miss 
 Sally, she says, ' He 's a funny chap, 
 but it 's no business of mine ; ' and 
 the lady went away, and slammed the 
 door to, when she went out, I can 
 tell you. So I run away that night, 
 and come here, and told 'em you was 
 my brother, and they believed me, 
 and I 've been here ever since." 
 
 " This poor little Marchioness has 
 been wearing herself to death !" cried 
 Dick. 
 
 " No I haven't," she returned, 
 "not a bit of it. Don't you mind 
 about me. I like sitting up, and I 'vo
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 235 
 
 often bad a sleep, bless you, in one 
 of them chairs. But if you could 
 hare seen how you tried to jump out 
 o' winder, and if you could have 
 heard how you used to keep on 
 singing and making speeches, you 
 wouldn't have believed it I 'm so 
 glad you 're better, Mr. Liverer." 
 
 " Liverer indeed ! " said Dick 
 thoughtfully. " It 's well I am a 
 liverer. I strongly suspect I should 
 have died, Marchioness, but for you." 
 
 At this point, Mr. Swiveller took 
 the small servant's hand in his, again, 
 and being, as we have seen, but 
 poorly, might in struggling to express 
 his thanks have made his eyes as red 
 as hers, but that she quickly changed 
 the theme by making him lie down, 
 and urging him to keep very quiet. 
 
 u The doctor," she told him, " said 
 you was to be kept quite still, and 
 there was to be no noise nor nothing. 
 Now, take a rest, and then we '11 talk 
 again. I '11 sit by you, you know. 
 If you shut your eyes, perhaps you '11 
 go to sleep. You '11 be all the better 
 or it, if you do." 
 
 The Marchioness, in saying these 
 words, brought a little table to the 
 bedside, took her seat at it, and began 
 to work away at the concoction of 
 some cooling drink, with the address 
 of a score of chemists. Richard Swi- 
 veller, being indeed fatigued, fell 
 into a slumber, and waking in about 
 half an hour, inquired what time 
 it was. 
 
 " Just gone half after six," replied 
 his small friend, helping hum to sit up 
 again. 
 
 " Marchioness," said Richard, pass- 
 ing his hand over his forehead and 
 turning suddenly round, as though the 
 subject but that moment flashed upon 
 lain, " what has become of Kit \ " 
 
 He had been sentenced to trans- 
 portation for a great many years, she 
 said. 
 
 " Has he gone ? " asked Dick 
 " his mother how is she, what has 
 become of her I " 
 
 His nurse shook her head, and 
 answered that she knew nothing about 
 them. But, if I thought," said she, 
 
 very slowly, " that you 'd keep quiet, 
 and not put yourself into another 
 fever, I could tell you bnt I won't 
 now." 
 
 "Yes, do," said Dick. "It will 
 amuse me." 
 
 " Oh ! would it though ! " rejoined 
 the small servant, with a horrified 
 look. " I know better than that. 
 Wait till you 're better and then I '11 
 tell you." 
 
 Dick looked very earnestly at his little 
 friend : and his eyes, being large and 
 hollow from illness, assisted the ex- 
 pression so much, that she was quite 
 frightened, and besought him not to 
 think any more about it. What had 
 already fallen from her, however, 
 had not only piqued his curiosity, 
 but seriously alarmed him, wherefore 
 he urged her to tell him the worst 
 at once. 
 
 " Oh ! there 's no worst in it," said 
 the small servant. " It hasn't any- 
 thing to do with you." 
 
 " Has it anything to do with is it 
 anything you heard through chinks 
 or keyholes and that you were not 
 intended to hear I " asked Dick, in a 
 breathless state. 
 
 " Yes," replied the small servant. 
 
 " In in Bevis Marks 1 " pursued 
 Dick hastily. " Conversations between 
 Brass and Sally ? " 
 
 " Yes," cried the small servant 
 again. 
 
 Richard Swiveller thrust his lank 
 arm out of bed, and, griping her by 
 the wrist and drawing her close to 
 him, bade her out with it, and freely 
 too, or he would not answer for the 
 consequences ; being wholly unable 
 to endure that state of excitement and 
 expectation. She, seeing that he was 
 greatly agitated, and that the effects 
 of postponing her revelation might be 
 much more injurious than any that 
 were likely to ensue from its being 
 made at once, promised compliance, 
 on condition that the patient kept 
 himself perfectly quiet, and abstained 
 from starting up or tossing about. 
 
 " But if you begin to do that," 
 said the small servant, " I '11 leave off. 
 And so I tell you."
 
 296 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 " You can't leave off, till you have 
 gone on," said Dick. "And do go 
 on, there 's a darling. Speak, sister, 
 speak. Pretty Polly say. Oh tell 
 me when, and tell me where, pray 
 Marchioness, I beseech you ! " 
 
 Unable to resist these fervent adju- 
 rations, which Richard Swiveller 
 poured out as passionately as if they 
 had been of the most solemn and 
 tremendous nature, his companion 
 spoke thus : 
 
 " Well ! Before I run away, I 
 used to sleep in the kitchen where 
 we played cards, you know. Miss 
 Sally used to keep the key of the 
 kitchen door in her pocket, and she 
 always come down at night to take 
 away the candle and rake out the 
 fire. When she had done that, she 
 left me to go to bed in the dark, 
 locked the door on the outside, put 
 the key in her pocket again, and 
 kept me locked tip till she come down 
 in the morning very early I can tell 
 you and let me out. I was terrible 
 afraid of being kept like this, because 
 if there was a fire, I thought they 
 might forget me and only take care 
 of themselves you know. So, when- 
 ever I see an old rusty key any- 
 where, I picked it up, and tried if it 
 would fit the door, and at last I 
 found in the dust cellar, a key that 
 did fit it." 
 
 Here, Mr. Swiveller made a violent 
 demonstration with his legs. But 
 the small servant immediately pausing 
 in her talk, he subsided again, and 
 pleading a momentary forgetfulness 
 of their compact, entreated her to 
 proceed. 
 
 " They kept me very short," said 
 the small servant. " Oh ! you can't 
 think how short they kept me ! So I 
 used to come out at night after they 'd 
 gone to bed, and feel about in the 
 dark for bits of biscuit, or sangwitches 
 that you 'd left in the office, or even 
 pieces of orange peel to put into cold 
 water and make believe it was wine. 
 Did you ever taste orange peel and 
 water ? " 
 
 Mr. Swiveller replied that he had 
 never tasted that ardent liquor ; and 
 
 once more urged his friend to resume 
 the thread of her narrative. 
 
 "If you make believe very much, 
 it's quite nice," said the small ser- 
 vant ; " but if you don't, you know, it 
 seems as if it would bear a little more 
 seasoning, certainly. Well, sometimes 
 I used to come out after they 'd gone 
 to bed, and sometimes before, you 
 know ; and one or two nights before 
 there was all that precious noise in the 
 office when the young man was took, 
 I mean I come up stairs while Mr. 
 Brass aud Miss Sally was a sittin' at 
 the office fire ; and I '11 tell you the 
 truth, that I come to listen again, 
 about the key of the safe." 
 
 Mr. Swiveller gathered up his knees 
 so as to make a great cone of the bed- 
 clothes, and conveyed into his counte- 
 nance an expression of the utmost 
 concern. But, the small servant 
 pausing, and holding up her finger, the 
 cone gently disappeared, though the 
 look of concern did not. 
 
 " There was him and her," said the 
 small servant, "a sittin' by the fire, 
 and talking softly together. Mr. Brass 
 says to Miss Sally, ' Upon my word,' 
 he says, ' it 's a dangerous thing, and 
 it might get us into a world of 
 trouble, and I don't half like it.' She 
 says you know her way she says, 
 ' You 're the chickenest - hearted, 
 feeblest, faintest man I ever see, and 
 I think,' she says, 'that I ought to 
 have been the brother, and you the 
 sister. Isn't Quilp,' she says, t o\ir 
 principal support ? ' ' He certainly is,' 
 says Mr. Brass. ' And an't we,' she 
 says, ' constantly ruining somebody or 
 other in the way of business ? ' ' We 
 certainly are,' says Mr. Brass. ' Then 
 does it signify,' she says, ' about ruin- 
 ing this Kit when Quilp desires it? 1 
 'It certainly does not signify,' says 
 Mr. Brass. Then, they whispered and 
 laughed for a long time about there 
 being no danger if it was well done, 
 and then Mr. Brass pulls out his 
 pocket-book, and says, ' Well,' he says, 
 ' here it is Quilp's own five-pound 
 note. We '11 agree that way, then,' 
 he says. ' Kit 's coming to-morrow 
 morning, I know. While he's up
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 297 
 
 stairs, you 11 get out of the way, and 
 I'll clear off Mr. Richard. Having 
 Kit alone, I '11 hold him in conversa- 
 tion, and put this property in his hat. 
 I '11 manage so, besides,' he says, ' that 
 Mr. Richard shall find it there, and be 
 the evidence. And if that don't get 
 Christopher out of Mr. Quilp's way, 
 and satisfy Mr. Quilp's grudges,' he 
 says, ' the Devil 's in it.' Miss Sally 
 laughed, and said that was the plan, 
 and as they seemed to be moving 
 away, and I was afraid to stop any 
 longer, I went down stairs again. 
 There ! " 
 
 The small servant had gradually 
 worked herself into as much agitation 
 as Mr. Swiveller, and therefore made 
 no effort to restrain him when he sat 
 up in bed and hastily demanded 
 whether this story had been told to 
 anybody. 
 
 " How could it be ? " replied his 
 nurse. " I was almost afraid to think 
 about it, and hoped the young man 
 would be let off. When I heard 'em 
 say they had found him guilty of what 
 he didn't do, you was gone, and so was 
 the lodger though I think I should 
 have been frightened to tell him, even 
 if he 'd been there. Ever since I 
 come here, you've been out of your 
 senses, and what would have been the 
 good of telling you then 1 " 
 
 " Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller, 
 plucking off his nightcap and flinging 
 it to the other end of the room ; " if 
 you '11 do me the favour to retire for a 
 i'ew minutes and see what sort of a 
 night it is, I '11 get up." 
 
 " You mustn't think of such a thing," 
 cried his nurse. 
 
 " I must indeed," said the patient, 
 looking round the room. "Where- 
 abouts are my clothes ? " 
 
 " Oh I 'm so glad you haven't got 
 any," replied the Marchioness. 
 
 " Ma'am ! " said Mr. Swiveller, in 
 great astonishment. 
 
 "I've been obliged to sell them, 
 every one, to get the things that was 
 ordered for you. But don't take on 
 about that," urged the Marchioness, 
 as Dick fell back upon his pillow. 
 " Yoa 're too weak to stand, indeed." 
 
 " I am afraid," said Richard dole- 
 fully, "that you're right. What 
 ought I to do ! what is to be done ! " 
 
 It naturally occurred to him on 
 very little reflection, that the first step 
 to take would be to communicate with 
 one of the Mr. Garlands instantly. It 
 was very possible that Mr. Abel had 
 not yet left the office. In as little 
 time as it takes to tell it, the small 
 servant had the address in pencil on a 
 piece of paper ; a verbal description 
 of father and son, which would enable 
 her to recognise either, without diffi- 
 culty ; and a special caution to be shy 
 of Mr. Chuckster, in consequence of 
 that gentleman's known antipathy to 
 Kit. Armed with these slender 
 powers, she hurried away, commis- 
 sioned to bring either old Mr. Garland 
 or Mr. Abel, bodily, to that apart- 
 ment. 
 
 " I suppose," said Dick, as she 
 closed the door slowly, and peeped 
 into the room again, to make sure that 
 he was comfortable, " I suppose there 's 
 nothing left not so much as a waist- 
 coat even ? " 
 
 " No, nothing." 
 
 " It 's embarrassing," said Mr. Swiv- 
 eller, "in case of fire even an um- 
 brella would be something but you 
 did quite right, dear Marchioness. I 
 should have died without you ! "
 
 298 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 IT was well f6r the small servant 
 that she was of a sharp, quick nature, 
 or the consequence of sending her out 
 alone, from the very neighbourhood in 
 which it was most dangerous for her 
 to appear, would probably have been 
 the restoration of Miss Sally Brass to 
 the supreme authority over her person. 
 Not unmindful of the risk she ran, 
 however, the Marchioness no sooner 
 left the house than she dived into the 
 first dark by-way that presented itself, 
 and, without any present reference to 
 the point to which her journey tended, 
 made it her first business to put two 
 good miles of brick and mortar be- 
 tween herself and Bevis Marks. 
 
 When she had accomplished this 
 object, she began to shape her course 
 for the notary's office, to which 
 shrewdly inquiring of apple-women 
 and oyster-sellers at street-corners, 
 rather than in lighted shops or of well- 
 dressed people, at the hazard of at- 
 tracting notice she easily procured 
 a direction. As carrier-pigeons, on 
 being first let loose in a strange place, 
 beat the air at random for a short 
 time, before darting off towards the 
 spot for which they are designed, so 
 did the Marchioness flutter round and 
 round until she believed herself in 
 safety, and then bear swiftly down 
 upon the port for which she was 
 bound. 
 
 She had no bonnet nothing on her 
 head but a great cap which, in some 
 old time, had been worn by Sally 
 Brass, whose taste in head-dresses 
 was, as we have seen, peculiar and 
 her speed was rather retarded than 
 assisted by her shoes, which, being 
 extremely large and slipshod, flew off 
 every now and then, and were difficult 
 to find again, among the crowd of pas- 
 sengers. Indeed, the poor little crea- 
 ture experienced so much trouble and 
 delay from having to grope for these 
 articles of dress in mud and kennel, 
 and suffered in these researches so 
 much jostling, pushing, squeezing, and 
 
 bandying from hand to hand, that by 
 the time she reached the street in 
 which the notary lived, she was fairly 
 worn out and exhausted, and could 
 not refrain from tears. 
 
 But to have got there at last, was a 
 great comfort, especially as there were 
 lights still burning in the office window, 
 and therefore some hope that she was 
 not too late. So, the Marchioness dried 
 her eyes with the backs of her hands, 
 aiid, stealing softly up the steps, peeped 
 in through the glass door. 
 
 Mr. Chuckster was standing behind 
 the lid of his desk, making such prepa- 
 rations towards finishing off for the 
 night, as pulling down his wristbands 
 and pulling up his shirt-collar, settling 
 his neck more gracefully in his stock, 
 and secretly arranging his whiskers by 
 the aid of a little triangular bit of 
 looking-glass. Before the ashes of the 
 fire, stood two gentlemen, one of whom 
 she rightly judged to be the notary, 
 and the other (who was buttoning his 
 great-coat, and was evidently about 
 to depart immediately) Mr. Abel 
 Garland, 
 
 Having made these observations, 
 the small spy took counsel with her- 
 self, and resolved to wait in the street 
 until Mr. Abel came out, as there 
 would be then no fear of having to 
 speak before Mr. Chuckster, and less 
 difficulty in delivering her message. 
 With this purpose she slipped out 
 again, and, crossing the road, sat down 
 upon a door-step just opposite. 
 
 She had hardly taken this position, 
 when there came dancing up the street, 
 with his legs all wrong, and his head 
 everywhere by turns, a pony. This 
 pony had a little phaeton behind him, 
 and a man in it ; but, neither man nor 
 phaeton seemed to embarrass him in 
 the least, as he reared up on his hind 
 legs, or stopped, or went on, or stood 
 still again, or backed, or went side- 
 ways, without the smallest reference 
 to them, just as the fancy seized him, 
 and as if he were the freest animal
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 299 
 
 in creation. When they came to the 
 notary's door, the man called out in a 
 very respectful manner, " Woa then," 
 intimating that if he might venture 
 to express a wish, it would be that 
 they stopped there. The pony made a 
 moment's pause ; but, as if it occurred 
 to him that to stop when he was 
 required might be to establish an in- 
 convenient and dangerous precedent, 
 he immediately started off again, rattled 
 at a fast trot to the street-corner, 
 wheeled round, came back, and then 
 stopped of his own accord. 
 
 " Oh ! you 're a precious creatur ! " 
 said the man who didn't venture by 
 the bye to come out in his true colours 
 until he was safe on the pavement. 
 " I wish I had the rewarding of you, 
 I do." 
 
 " What has he been doing 1 " said 
 Mr. Abel, tying a shawl round his 
 neck as he came down the steps. 
 
 " He 's enough to fret a man's heart 
 out," replied the hostler. " He is the 
 most wicious rascal Woa then, will 
 you ! " 
 
 He '11 never stand still, if you call 
 him names," said Mr. Abel, getting in, 
 and taking the reins. " He 's a very 
 good fellow if you know how to manage 
 him. This is the first time he has 
 been out, this long while, for he has 
 lost his old driver and wouldn't stir 
 for anybody else, till this morning. 
 The lamps are right, are they ? That's 
 weD. Be here to take him to-morrow, 
 if you please. Good night ! " 
 
 And, after one or two strange 
 plunges, quite of his own invention, 
 the pony yielded to Mr. Adam's mild- 
 ness, and trotted gently off. 
 
 All this time Mr. Chuckster had 
 been standing at the door, and the 
 small servant had been afraid to ap- 
 proach. She had nothing for it now, 
 therefore, but to run after the chaise, 
 and to call to Mr. Abel to stop. Being 
 out of breath when she came up 
 with it, she was unable to make him 
 hear. The case was desperate ; for 
 the pony was quickening his pace. 
 The Marchioness hung on behind for 
 a few moments, and, feeling that she 
 could go no farther, and must soon 
 
 yield, clambered by a vigorous effort 
 into the hinder seat, and in so doing 
 lost one of the shoes for ever. 
 
 Mr. Abel being in a thoughtful 
 frame of mind, and having quite 
 enough to do to keep the pony going, 
 went jogging on without looking round : 
 little dreaming of the strange figure 
 that was close behind him, until the 
 Marchioness, having in some degree 
 recovered her breath, and the loss of 
 her shoe, and the novelty of her posi- 
 tion, uttered close into his ear, the 
 words 
 
 " I say, sir " 
 
 He turned his head quickly enough 
 then, and stopping the pony, cried, 
 with some trepidation, " God bless me, 
 what is this ! " 
 
 " Don't be frightened, sir," replied 
 the still panting messenger. " Oh I 've 
 run such a way after you ! " 
 
 " What do you want with me ? " 
 said Mr. Abel. " How did you come 
 here * " 
 
 " I got in behind," replied the Mar- 
 chioness. " Oh please drive on, sir 
 don't stop and go towards the city, 
 will you \ And oh do please make 
 haste, because it's of consequence. 
 There 's 'somebody wants to see you 
 there. He sent me to say would you 
 come directly, and that he knowed all 
 about Kit, and could save him yet, 
 and prove his innocence." 
 
 " What do you tell me, child ? " 
 
 " The truth, upon my word and 
 honour I do. But please to drive on 
 quick, please ! I 've been such a 
 time gone, he '11 think I 'm lost." 
 
 Mr. Abel involuntarily urged the 
 pony forward. The pony, impelled by 
 some secret sympathy or some new 
 caprice, burst into a great pace, and 
 neither slackened it, nor indulged in 
 any eccentric performances, until they 
 arrived at the door of Mr. Swiveller's 
 lodging, where, marvellous to relate, 
 he consented to stop when Mr. Abel 
 checked him. 
 
 " See ! It 's that room up there," 
 said the Marchioness, pointing to one 
 where there was a faint light. " Come ! " 
 
 Mr. Abel, who was one of the 
 simplest and most retiring creatures
 
 soo 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 in existence, and naturally timid 
 withal, hesitated ; for he had heard of 
 people being decoyed into strange 
 places to be robbed and murdered, 
 under circumstances very like the 
 present, and, for anything he knew to 
 the contrary, by guides very like the 
 Marchioness. His regard for Kit, 
 however, overcame every other con- 
 sideration. So, entrusting Whisker to 
 the charge of a man who was lingering 
 hard by in expectation of the job, he 
 suffered his companion to take his 
 hand, and to lead him up the dark and 
 narrow stairs. 
 
 He was not a little surprised to find 
 himself conducted into a dimly-lighted 
 sick chamber, where a man was sleep- 
 ing tranquilly in bed. 
 
 " An't it nice to see him lying there 
 so quiet ? " said his guide, in an earnest 
 whisper. " Oh ! you 'd say it was, if 
 you had only seen him two or three 
 days ago." 
 
 Mr. Abel made no answer, and, to 
 say the truth, kept a long way from 
 the bed and very near the door. His 
 guide, who appeared to understand 
 his reluctance, trimmed the candle, 
 and taking it in her hand, approached 
 the bed. As she did so, the sleeper 
 started up, and he recognised in the 
 wasted face the features of Richard 
 Swiveller. 
 
 " Why, how is this ? " said Mr. 
 Abel kindly, as he hurried towards 
 him. " You have been ill ? " 
 
 Very," replied Dick. " Nearly 
 dead. You might have chanced to 
 hear of your Richard on his bier, but 
 for the friend I sent to fetch you. 
 Another shake of the hand, Mar- 
 chioness, if you please. Sit down, sir." 
 
 Mr. Abel seemed rather astonished 
 to hear of the quality of his guide, and 
 took a chair by the bedside. 
 
 " I have sent for you, sir," said 
 Dick " but she told you on "what 
 account 1 " 
 
 " She did. I am quite bewildered 
 by all this. I really don't know what 
 to say or think," replied Mr. Abel. 
 
 " You '11 say that, presently," re- 
 torted Dick. " Marchioness, take a 
 seat on the bed, will you ? Now, tell 
 
 this gentleman all that you told me ; 
 and be particular. Don't you speak 
 another word, sir." 
 
 The story was repeated ; it was, in 
 effect, exactly the same as before, 
 without any deviation or omission. 
 Richard Swiveller kept his eyes fixed 
 on his visitor during its narration, and 
 directly it was concluded, took the 
 word again. 
 
 " You have heard it all, and you '11 
 not forget it. I 'm too giddy and too 
 queer to suggest anything ; but you 
 and your friends will know what to do. 
 After this long delay, every minute is 
 an age. If ever you went home fast 
 in your life, go home fast to-night. 
 Don't stop to say one word to me, but 
 go. She will be found here, whenever 
 she 's wanted ; and as to me, you 're 
 pretty sure to find me at home, for a 
 week or two. There are more reasons 
 than one for that. Marchioness, a 
 light ! If you lose another minute in 
 looking at me, sir, I '11 never forgive 
 you ! " 
 
 Mr. Abel needed no more re- 
 monstrance or persuasion. He was 
 gone in an instant ; and the Mar- 
 chioness, returning from lighting him 
 down stairs, reported that the pony, 
 without any preliminary objection 
 whatever, had dashed away at full 
 gallop. 
 
 " That 's right ! " said Dick ; and 
 hearty of him ; and I honour him from 
 this time. But get some supper and a 
 mug of beer, for I am sure you must 
 be tired. Do have a mug of beer. It 
 will do me as much good to see you 
 take it as if I might drink it myself." 
 
 Nothing but this assurance could 
 have prevailed upon the small nurse 
 to indulge in such a luxury. Having 
 eaten and drunk to Mr. Swiveller's 
 extreme contentment, given him his 
 drink, and put everything in neat 
 order, she wrapped herself in an old 
 coverlet and lay down upon the rug 
 before the fire. 
 
 Mr. Swiveller was by that time mur- 
 muring in his sleep, " Strew then, oh 
 strew, a bed of rushes. Here will we 
 stay, till morning blushes. Good night, 
 Marchioness ! "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 30} 
 
 CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 ON awaking in the morning, Richard 
 Swiveller became conscious, by slow 
 degrees, of whispering voices in his 
 room. Looking out between the cur- 
 tains, he espied Mr. Garland, Mr. 
 Abel, the notary, and the single gen- 
 tleman, gathered round the Marchion- 
 ess, and talking to her with great 
 earnestness but in very subdued tones 
 fearing, no doubt, to disturb him. 
 He lost no time in letting them know 
 that this precaution was unnecessary, 
 and all four gentlemen directly ap- 
 proached his bedside. Old Mr. Gar- 
 land was the first to stretch out his 
 hand, and inquire how he felt. 
 
 Dick was about to answer that he 
 felt much better, though still as weak 
 as need be, when his little nurse, push- 
 ing the visitors aside and pressing up 
 to his pillow as if in jealousy of their 
 interference, set his breakfast before 
 him, and insisted on his taking it before 
 he underwent the fatigue of speaking 
 or of being spoken to. Mr. Swiveller, 
 who WHS perfectly ravenous, and had 
 had, all night, amazingly distinct and 
 consistent dreams of mutton chops, 
 double stout, and similar delicacies, 
 felt even the weak tea and dry toast 
 such irresistible temptations, that he 
 consented to eat and drink on one 
 condition. 
 
 " And that is," said Dick, returning 
 the pressure of Mr. Garland's hand, 
 " that you answer me this question 
 truly, before I take a bit or drop. Is 
 it too late 1 " 
 
 " For completing the work you began 
 so well last night \ " returned the old 
 gentleman. " No. Set your mind at 
 rest on that point. It is not, I assure 
 you." 
 
 Comforted by this intelligence, the 
 patient applied himself to his food with 
 a keen appetite, though evidently not 
 with a greater zest in the eating than 
 his nurse appeared to have in seeing 
 him eat. The manner of his meal was 
 this : Mr. Swiveller, holding the slice 
 of toast or cup of tea in his left hand, 
 
 and taking a bite or drink, as the caso 
 might be, constantly kept, in his right, 
 one palm of the Marchioness tight 
 locked ; and to shake, or even to kiss 
 this imprisoned hand, he would stop 
 every now and then, in the very act of 
 swallowing, with perfect seriousness of 
 intention, and the utmost gravity. As 
 often as he put anything into his 
 mouth, whether for eating or drink- 
 ing, the face of the Marchioness lighted 
 up beyond all description ; but, when- 
 ever he gave her one or other of these 
 tokens of recognition, her countenance 
 became overshadowed, and she began 
 to sob. Now, whether she was in her 
 laughing joy, or in her crying one, the 
 Marchioness could not help turning to 
 the visitors with an appealing look, 
 which seemed to say, " You see this 
 fellow can I help this ? " and they, 
 being thus made, as it were, parties to 
 the scene, as regularly answered by 
 another look, "No. Certainly not." 
 This dumb-show, taking place during, 
 the whole time of the invalid's break- 
 fast, and the invalid himself, pale and 
 emaciated, performing no small part 
 in the same, it may be fairly questioned 
 whether at any meal, where no word, 
 good or bad, was spoken from begin- 
 ning to end, so much was expressed by 
 gestures in themselves so slight and 
 unimportant. 
 
 At length and to say the truth 
 before very long Mr. Swiveller had 
 despatched as much toast and tea as in 
 that stage of his recovery it was dis- 
 creet to let him have. But, the cares 
 of the Marchioness did not stop here ; 
 for, disappearing for an instant and 
 presently returning with a basin of 
 fair water, she laved his face and 
 hands, brushed his hair, and in short 
 made him as spruce and smart as any- 
 body under such circumstances could 
 be made ; and all this, in as brisk and 
 business-like a manner, as if he were a 
 very little boy, and she his grown-up 
 nurse. To these various attentions, 
 Mr. Swiveller submitted in a kind of
 
 302 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 grateful astonishment beyond the reach 
 of language. When they were at last 
 brought to an end, and the Marchion- 
 ess had withdrawn into a distant corner 
 to take her own poor breakfast (cold 
 enough by that time), he turned his 
 face away for some few moments, and 
 shook hands heartily with the air. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said Dick, rousing 
 himself from this pause, and turning 
 round again, " you '11 excuse me. Men 
 who have been brought so low as I 
 have been, are easily fatigued. I am 
 fresh again now, and fit for talking. 
 We 're short of chairs here, among 
 other trifles, but if you '11 do me the 
 favour to sit upon the bed " 
 
 u What can we do for you ? " said 
 Mr. Garland kindly. 
 
 " If you could make the Marchion- 
 ess yonder, a Marchioness, in real, 
 sober earnest," returned Dick, " I 'd 
 thank you to get it done off-hand. 
 But as you can't, and as the question 
 is not what you will do for me, but 
 what you will do for somebody else 
 who has a better claim upon you, pray 
 Bir let me know what you intend 
 doing." 
 
 " It 's chiefly on that account that 
 we have come just now," said the 
 single gentleman, " for you will have 
 another visitor presently. We feared 
 you would be anxious unless you knew 
 from ourselves what steps we intended 
 to take, and therefore came to you 
 before we stirred in the matter." 
 
 " Gentlemen," returned Dick, " I 
 thank you. Anybody in the helpless 
 state that you see me in, is naturally 
 anxious. Don't let me interrupt you, 
 sir." 
 
 " Then, you see, my good fellow," 
 said the single gentleman, " that while 
 we have no doubt whatever of the 
 truth of this disclosure, which has so 
 providentially come to light " 
 
 " Meaning hers I " said Dick, point- 
 ing towards the Marchioness. 
 
 " Meaning hers, of course. While 
 we have no doubt of that, or that a 
 proper use of it would procure the 
 poor lad's immediate pardon and 
 liberation, we have a great doubt 
 whether it would, by itself, enable us 
 
 to reach Quilp, the chief agent in this 
 Villany. I should tell you that this 
 doubt has been confirmed into some- 
 thing very nearly approaching cer- 
 tainty by the best opinions we have 
 been enabled, in this short space of 
 tune, to take upon the subject. You '11 
 agree with us, that to give him even 
 the most distant chance of escape, if 
 we could help it, would be monstrous. 
 You say with us, no doubt, if some- 
 body must escape, let it be any one 
 but he." 
 
 " Yes," returned Dick, " certainly. 
 That is if somebody must but upon 
 my word, I 'm unwilling that anybody 
 should. Since laws were made for 
 every degree, to curb vice in others 
 as well as in me and so forth you 
 know doesn't it strike you in that 
 light?" 
 
 The single gentleman smiled as if 
 the light in which Mr. Swiveller had 
 put the question were not the clearest 
 in the world, and proceeded to explain 
 that they contemplated proceeding by 
 stratagem in the first instance ; and 
 that tlaeir design was, to endeavour to 
 extort a confession from the gentle 
 Sarah. 
 
 "When she finds how much we 
 know, and how we know it," he said, 
 " and that she is clearly compromised 
 already, we are not without strong 
 hopes that we may be enabled through 
 her means to punish the other two 
 effectually. If we could do that, she 
 might go scot-free for aught I cared." 
 
 Dick received this project in any- 
 thing but a gracious manner, repre- 
 senting with as much warmth as he 
 was then capable of showing, that 
 they would find the old buck (meaning 
 Sarah) more difficult to manage than 
 Quilp himself that, for any tampering, 
 terrifying, or cajolery, she was a very 
 unpromising and unyielding subject 
 that, she was of a kind of brass riot 
 easily melted or moulded into shape 
 ifi short, that they were no match for 
 her, and would be signally defeated. 
 But, it was in vain to urge them to 
 adopt some other course. The single 
 gentleman has been described as ex- 
 plaining their joint intentions, but it
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 i>03 
 
 should have been written that they all 
 spoke together ; that if any one of 
 them by chance held his peace for a 
 moment, he stood gasping and panting 
 for an opportunity to strike in again : 
 in a word, that they had reached that 
 pitch of impatience and anxiety where 
 men can neither be persuaded nor 
 reasoned with ; and that it would have 
 been as easy to turn the most impetu- 
 ous wind that ever blew, a* to prevail 
 on them to reconsider their determi- 
 natibn. So, after telling Mr. Swiveller 
 how they had not lost sight of Kit's 
 mother and the children ; how they 
 had never once even lost sight of Kit 
 himself, but had been unremitting in 
 their endeavours to procure a mitiga- 
 tion of his sentence ; how they had 
 been perfectly distracted between the 
 strong proofs of his guilt, and their 
 own fading hopes of his innocence ; 
 and how he, Richard Swiveller, might 
 keep his mind at rest, for everything 
 should be happily adjusted between 
 that time and night ; after telling him 
 all this, and adding a great many kind 
 and cordial expressions, personal to 
 himself, which it is unnecessary to 
 recite, Mr. Garland, the notary, and 
 the single gentleman, took their leaves 
 at a very critical time, or Richard 
 Swiveller must assuredly have been 
 driven into another fever, whereof the 
 results might have been fatal. 
 
 Mr. Abel remained behind, very 
 often looking at his watch and at the 
 room door, until Mr. Swiveller was 
 roused from a short nap, by the setting- 
 down on the landing-place outside, as 
 from the shoulders of a porter, of some 
 giant load, which seemed to shake the 
 house, and made the little physic 
 bottles on the mantel-shelf ring again. 
 Directly this sound reached his ears, 
 Mr. Abel started up, and hobbled to 
 the door, and opened it ; and behold ! 
 there stood a strong man, with a 
 mighty hamper, which, being hauled 
 into the room and presently unpacked, 
 disgorged such treasures of tea, and 
 coffee, and wine, and rusks, and 
 oranges, and grapes, and fowls ready 
 trussed for boiling, and calves'-foot 
 jelly, and arrow-root, and sago, and 
 
 other delicate restoratives, that the 
 small servant, who had never thought 
 it possible that such things could be, 
 except in shops, stood rooted to the 
 spot in her one shoe, with her mouth 
 and eyes watering in unison, and her 
 power of speech quite gone. But, not 
 so Mr. Abel ; or the strong man who 
 emptied the hamper, big as it was, in a 
 twinkling ; and not so the nice old 
 lady, who appeared so suddenly that 
 she might have come out of the ham- 
 per too (it was quite large enough), 
 and who, bustling about on tiptoe and 
 without noise now here, now there, 
 now everywhere at once began to fill 
 out the jelly in teacups, and to make 
 chicken broth in small saucepans, and 
 to peel oranges for the sick man and 
 to cut them up in little pieces, and to 
 ply the small servant with glasses of 
 wine and choice bits of everything 
 until more substantial meat could be 
 prepared for her refreshment. The 
 whole of which appearances were so 
 unexpected and bewildering, that Mr. 
 Swiveller, when he had taken two 
 oranges and a little jelly, and had seen 
 the strong man walk off with the 
 empty basket, plainly leaving all that 
 abundance for his use and benefit, was 
 fain to lie down and fall asleep again, 
 from sheer inability to entertain such 
 wonders in his mind. 
 . Mean while, the single gentleman, the 
 Notary, and Mr. Garland, repaired to 
 a certain coffee-house, and from that 
 place indited and sent a letter to Miss 
 Sally Brass, requesting her, in terms 
 mysterious and brief, to favour an 
 unknown friend who wished to con- 
 sult her, with her company there, as 
 speedily as possible. The communi- 
 cation performed its errand so well, 
 that within ten minutes of the mes- 
 senger's return and report of its 
 delivery, Miss Brass herself was an- 
 nounced. 
 
 " Pray ma'am," said the single gen- 
 tleman, whom she found alone in the 
 room, " take a chair." 
 
 Miss Brass sat herself down, in a 
 very stiff and frigid state, and seemed 
 as indeed she was not a little 
 astonished to find that the lodger and
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 her mysterious correspondent were one 
 and the same person. 
 
 " You did not expect to see me 1 " 
 said the single gentleman. 
 
 " I didn't think much about it," 
 returned the beauty. " I supposed it 
 was business of some kind or other. 
 If it 's about the apartments, of course 
 you '11 give my brother regular notice, 
 you know or money. That's very 
 easily settled. You're a responsible 
 party, and in such a case lawful money 
 and lawful notice are pretty much the 
 same." 
 
 " I am obliged to you for your good 
 opinion," retorted the single gentle- 
 man, " and quite concur in those sen- 
 timents. But, that is not the subject 
 on which I wish to speak with you." 
 
 "Oh!" said Sally. "Then just 
 state the particulars, will you ! I sup- 
 pose it 's professional business 2 " 
 
 " Why, it is connected with the law, 
 certainly." 
 
 " Very well," returned Miss Brass. 
 " My brother and I are just the same. 
 I can take any instructions, or give 
 you any advice." 
 
 " As there are other parties inte- 
 rested besides myself," said the single 
 gentleman, rising and opening the 
 door of an inner room, " we had 
 better confer together. Miss Brass is 
 here, gentlemen ! " 
 
 Mr. Garland and the Notary walked 
 in, looking very grave : and, drawing 
 up two chairs, one on each side of the 
 single gentleman, formed a kind of 
 fence round the gentle Sarah, and 
 penned her into a corner. Her brother 
 Sampson under such circumstances 
 would certainly have evinced some 
 confusion or anxiety, but she all 
 composure' pulled out the tin box 
 and calmly took a pinch of snuff. 
 
 " Miss Brass," said the Notary, 
 taking the word at this crisis, "we 
 professional people understand each 
 other, and, when we choose, can say 
 what we have to say, in very few 
 words. You advertised a runaway 
 servant, the other day ? " 
 
 Well," returned Miss Sally, with 
 a sudden flush overspreading her 
 features, " what of that ? " 
 
 "She is found, ma'am," said the 
 Notary, pulling out his pocket-handker- 
 chief with a flourish. " She is found." 
 
 " Who found her 1 " demanded 
 Sarah hastily. 
 
 " We did, ma'am we three. Only 
 last night, or you would have heard 
 from us before." 
 
 " And now I have heard from 
 you," said Miss Brass, folding her 
 arms as though she were about to 
 deny something to the death, "what 
 have you got to say \ Something you 
 have got into your heads about her, of 
 course. Prove it, will you that 's all. 
 Prove it. You have found her, you 
 say. I can tell you (if you don't know 
 it) that you have found the most art- 
 ful, lying, pilfering, devilish little minx 
 that was ever born. Have you got 
 her here 2 " she added, looking sharply 
 round. 
 
 " No, she is not here at present," 
 returned the Notary. " But she is 
 quite safe." 
 
 " Ha ! " cried Sally, twitching a 
 pinch of snuff out of her box, as spite- 
 fully as if she were in the very act of 
 wrenching off the small servant's nose ; 
 "she shall be safe enough from this 
 time, I warrant you." 
 
 "I hope so," replied the Notary-. 
 " Did it occur to you for the first 
 time, when you found she had run 
 away, that there were two keys to 
 your kitchen door ? " 
 
 Miss Sally took another pinch, and. 
 putting her head on one side, looked 
 at her questioner, with a curious kind 
 of spasm about her mouth, but with a 
 cunning aspect of immense expression. 
 
 " Two keys," repeated the Notary ; 
 " one of which gave her the opportu- 
 nities of roaming through the house at 
 nights when you supposed her fast 
 locked up, and of overhearing confi- 
 dential consultations among others, 
 that particular conference, to be de- 
 scribed to-day before a justice, which 
 vou will have an opportunity of hear- 
 ing her relate ; that conference which 
 you and Mr. Brass held together, on 
 the night before that most unfortu- 
 nate and innocent young man was 
 accused of robbery, by a horrible
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 305 
 
 device of which I will only say that it 
 may be characterised by the epithets 
 you have applied to this wretched little 
 witness, and by a few stronger ones 
 besides." 
 
 Sally took another pinch. Although 
 her face was wonderfully composed, it 
 was apparent that she was wholly taken 
 by surprise, and that what she had 
 expected to be taxed with, in connec- 
 tion with her small servant, was some- 
 thing very different from this. 
 
 " Come, come, Miss Brass," said 
 the Notary, " you have great command 
 of feature, but you feel, I see, that by 
 a chance which never entered your 
 imagination, this base design is re- 
 vealed, and two of its plotters must be 
 brought to justice. Now, you know 
 the pains and penalties you are liable 
 to, and so I need not dilate upon them, 
 but I have a proposal to make to you. 
 You have the honour of being sister to 
 one of the greatest scoundrels unhung ; 
 and, if I may venture to say so to a 
 lady, you are in every respect quite 
 worthy of him. But, connected with 
 you two is a third party, a villain of 
 the name of Quilp, the prime mover 
 of the whole diabolical device, who I 
 believe to be worse than either. For 
 his sake, Miss Brass, do us the favour 
 to reveal the whole history of this 
 affair. Let me remind you that your 
 doing so, at our instance, will place you 
 in asafe and comfortable position your 
 present one is not desirable and can- 
 not injure your brother ; for against 
 him and you we have quite sufficient 
 evidence (as you hear) already. I 
 will not say to you that we suggest 
 this course in mercy (for, to tell you 
 the truth, we do not entertain any 
 regard for you), but it is a necessity to 
 which we are reduced, and I recom- 
 mend it to you as a matter of the very 
 best policy. Time," said Mr. Wither- 
 den, pulling out his watch, " in a busi- 
 ness like this, is exceedingly precious. 
 Favour us with your decision as 
 speedily as possible, ma'am." 
 
 With a smile upon her face, and 
 looking at each of the three by turns, 
 Miss Brass took two or three more 
 pinches of snuff, and having by this 
 
 No. 83. 
 
 time very little left, travelled round 
 and round the box with her fore- 
 finger and thumb, scraping up another. 
 Having disposed of this likewise and 
 put the box carefully in her pocket, 
 she said, 
 
 " I am to accept or reject at once, 
 am I ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Witherden. 
 
 The charming creature was opening 
 her lips to speak in reply, when the 
 door was hastily opened too, and the 
 head of Sampson Brass was thrust into 
 the room. 
 
 " Excuse me," said that gentleman 
 hastily. Wait a bit ! " 
 
 So saying, and quite indifferent to 
 the astonishment his presence occa- 
 sioned, he crept in, shut the door, 
 kissed his greasy glove as servilely as 
 if it were the dust, and made a most 
 abject bow. 
 
 " Sarah," said Brass, " hold your 
 tongue if you please, and let me speak. 
 Gentlemen, if I could express the plea- 
 sure it gives me to see three such men 
 in a happy unity of feeling and con- 
 cord of sentiment, I think you would 
 hardly believe me. But though I am 
 unfortunate nay, gentlemen, criminal, 
 if we are to use harsh expressions in a 
 company like this still, I have my 
 feelings like other men. I have heard 
 of a poet, who remarked that feelings 
 were the common lot of all. If he 
 could have been a pig, gentlemen, and 
 have uttered that sentiment, he would 
 still have been immortal. 
 
 " If you 're not an idiot," said Miss 
 Brass harshly, " hold your peace." 
 
 " Sarah, my dear," returned her 
 brother, "thank you. But I know 
 what I am about, my love, and will 
 take the liberty of expressing myself 
 accordingly. Mr. Witherden, sir, 
 your handkerchief is hanging out of 
 your pocket would you allow me 
 to" 
 
 As Mr. Brass advanced to remedy 
 this accident, the Notary shrunk 
 from him with an air of disgust. 
 Brass, who over and above his usual 
 prepossessing qualities, had a scratched 
 face, a green shade over one eye, and 
 a hat grievously crushed, stopped 
 
 x 20
 
 306 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 short, and looked round with a pitiful 
 smile. 
 
 " He shuns me," said Sampson, 
 " even when I would, as I may say, 
 heap coals of fire upon his head. 
 Well ! Ah ! But I am a falling house, 
 and the rats (if I may be allowed the 
 expression in reference to a gentle- 
 man I respect and love beyond every- 
 thing) fly from me ! Gentlemen re- 
 garding your conversation just now, 
 I happened to see my sister on her 
 way here, and, wondering where she 
 could be going to, and being may I 
 venture to say ? naturally of a sus- 
 picious turn, followed her. Since then, 
 I have been listening." 
 
 "If you 're not mad," interposed. 
 Miss Sally, "stop there, and say no 
 more." 
 
 "Sarah, my dear," rejoined Brass 
 with undiminished politeness, " I thank 
 you kindly, but will still proceed. Mr. 
 Witherden, sir, as we have the honour 
 to be members of the same profession 
 to say nothing of that other gentle- 
 man having been my lodger, and hav- 
 ing partaken, as one may say, of the 
 hospitality of my roof I think you 
 might have given me the refusal of 
 this offer in the first instance. I do 
 indeed. Now, my dear sir," cried 
 Brass, seeing that the Notary was 
 about to interrupt him, " suffer me to 
 speak, I beg." 
 
 Mr. Witherden was silent, and 
 Brass went on. 
 
 " If you (vill do me the favour," he 
 said, holding up the green shade, and 
 revealing an eye most horribly dis- 
 coloured, "to look at this, you will 
 naturally inquire, in your own minds, 
 how did I get it. If you look from 
 that, to my face, you will wonder what 
 could have been the cause of all these 
 scratches. And if from them to my 
 hat, how it came into the state in 
 which you see it. Gentlemen," said 
 Brass, striking the hat fiercely with 
 his clenched hand, " to all these ques- 
 tions I answer Quilp ! " 
 
 The three gentlemen looked at each 
 other, but said nothing. 
 
 " I say," pursued Brass, glancing 
 aside at his sister, as though he were 
 
 talking for her information, and speak- 
 ing with a snarling malignity, in vio- 
 lent contrast to his usual smoothness, 
 " that I answer to all these questions, 
 Quilp Quilp, who deludes mo into 
 his infernal den, and takes a delight 
 in looking on and chuckling while 1 
 scorch, and burn, and bruise, and 
 maim myself Quilp, who never once, 
 no never once, in alii our communica- 
 tions together, has. treated me other- 
 wise than as a dog Quilp, whom I 
 have always hated with my whole 
 heart, but never so much as lately. 
 He gives me the cold shoulder on this 
 very matter as if he had had nothing 
 to do with it, instead of being the first 
 to propose it. I can't trust him. In 
 one of his howling, raving, blazing 
 humours, I believe he 'd let it out, if it 
 was murder, and never think of him- 
 self so long as he could terrify me. 
 Now," said Brass, picking up his hat 
 again, replacing the shade over his 
 eye, and actually crouching down, in 
 the excess of his servility, " what does 
 all this lead me to ? what should you 
 say it led me to, gentlemen 1 could 
 you guess at all near the mark ? " 
 
 Nobody spoke. Brass stood smirk- 
 ing for a little while, as if he had pro- 
 pounded some choice conundrum ; and 
 then said : 
 
 "To be short with you, then, it 
 leads me to this. If the truth has 
 come out, as it plainly has in a manner 
 that there 's no standing up against 
 and a very sublime and grand thing 
 is Truth, gentlemen, in its way, though 
 like other sublime and grand things; 
 such as thunder-storms and that, 
 we 're not always over and above glad 
 to see it I had better turn upon this 
 man than let this man turn upon me. 
 It 's clear to me that I am done for. 
 Therefore, if anybody is to split, i 
 had better be the person and have 
 the advantage of it. Sarah, my dear, 
 comparatively speaking you're safe. 
 I relate these circumstances for my 
 own profit.'' 
 
 With that, Mr. Brass, in a great 
 hurry, revealed the whole story ; 
 bearing as heavily as possible on his 
 amiable employer, and making him-
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 307 
 
 self out to be rather a saint-like and 
 holy character, though subject he 
 acknowledged to human weaknesses. 
 He concluded thus : 
 
 " Now, gentlemen, I am not a man 
 who does things by halves. Being in 
 for a penny, I am ready, as the saying 
 is, to be in for a pound. You must do 
 with me what you please, and take 
 me where you please. If you wish to 
 have this in writing, we '11 reduce it 
 into manuscript immediately. You 
 will be tender with mej I am sure. 
 I am quite confident you will be 
 tender with me. You are men of 
 honour, and have feeling hearts. I 
 yielded from necessity to Q,uilp, for 
 though necessity has no law, she 
 has her lawyers. I yield to you from 
 necessity too ; from policy besides ; 
 and because of feelings that have 
 been a pretty long time working 
 within me. Punish Quilp, gentlemen. 
 Weigh heavily upon him. Grind him 
 down. Tread him under foot. He 
 has done as much by me, for many 
 and many a day." 
 
 Having now arrived at the con- 
 clusion of his discourse, Sampson 
 checked the current of his wrath, 
 kissed his glove again, and smiled as 
 only parasites and cowards can. 
 
 " And this," said Miss Brass, raising 
 her head, with which she had hitherto 
 sat resting on her hands, and survey- 
 ing him from head to foot with a 
 bitter sneer, " this is my brother, is 
 it ! This is rny brother, that I have 
 worked and toiled for, and believed 
 to have had something of the man 
 in him ! " 
 
 " Sarah, my dear," returned Samp- 
 son, rubbing his hands feebly ; " you 
 disturb our friends. Besides you 
 you 're disappointed, Sarah, and, not 
 knowing what you say, expose your- 
 self." 
 
 " Yes, you pitiful dastard," retorted 
 the lovely damsel, " I understand you. 
 You feared that I should be before- 
 hand with you. But do you think 
 that / would have been enticed to 
 say a word ! I 'd have scorned it, if 
 they had tried and tempted me for 
 twenty years." 
 
 "He he!" simpered Brassy who, 
 in his deep debasement, really seemed 
 to have changed sexes with his sister, 
 and to have made over to her any 
 spark of manliness he might have 
 possessed. " You think so, Sarah, 
 you think so perhaps ; .but you would 
 have acted quite different, my good 
 fellow. You will not have forgotten 
 that it was a maxim with Foxey our 
 revered father, gentleman ' Always 
 suspect everybody.' That 's the 
 maxim to go through life with ! If 
 you were not actually about to pur- 
 I chase your own safety when I showed 
 ' myself, I suspect you 'd have done it 
 by this time. And therefore I've 
 done it myself, and spared you the 
 trouble as well as the shame. The 
 shame, gentlemen," added Brass, 
 allowing himself to be slighty over- 
 come, " if there is any, is mine. It's 
 better that a female should be spared 
 it." 
 
 With deference to the better opinion 
 of Mr. Brass, and more particularly 
 to the authority of his Great Ancestor, 
 it may be doubted, with humility, 
 whether the elevating principle laid 
 down by the latter gentleman, and 
 acted upon by his descendant, is 
 always a prudent one, or attended 
 in practice with the desired results. 
 This is, beyond question, a bold and 
 presumptuous doubt, inasmuch as 
 many distinguished characters, called 
 men of the world, longheaded cus- 
 tomers, knowing dogs, shrewd fellows, 
 capital hands at business, and the 
 like, have made, and do daily make, 
 this axiom their polar star and com- 
 pass. Still, the doubt may be gently 
 insinuated. And in illustration it 
 may be observed, that if Mr. Brass, 
 not being over-suspicious, had, without 
 prying and listening, left his sister 
 to manage the conference on their 
 joint behalf, or, prying and listening, 
 had not been in such a mighty hurry 
 to anticipate her (which he would 
 not have been, but for his distrust 
 and jealousy), he would probably 
 have found himself much better off 
 in the end. Thus, it will always 
 happen that these men of the world, 
 x2
 
 308 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 who go through it in armour, defend 
 themselves from quite as much good 
 as evil ; to say nothing of the incon- 
 venience and absurdity of mounting 
 guard with a microscope at all times, 
 and of wearing a coat of mail on the 
 most innocent occasions. 
 
 The three gentlemen spoke together 
 apart, for a few moments. At the end 
 of their consultation, which was very 
 brief, the Notary pointed to the 
 writing materials on the table, and 
 informed Mr. Brass that if he wished 
 to make any statement in writing, he 
 had the opportunity of doing so. At 
 the same time he felt bound to tell 
 him that they would require his 
 attendance, presently, before a justice 
 of the peace, and that in what he did 
 or said, he was guided entirely by 
 his own discretion. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Brass, drawing 
 off his gloves, and crawling in spirit 
 upon the ground before them, " I will 
 justify the tenderness with which I 
 know I shall be treated ; and as, with- 
 out tenderness, I should, now that this 
 discovery has been made, stand in the 
 worst position of the three, you may 
 depend upon it I will make a clean 
 breast. Mr. Witherden, sir, a kind of 
 i'aintness is upon my spirits if you 
 would do me the favour to ring the 
 bell and order up a glass of something 
 warm and spicy, I shall, notwith- 
 standing what has passed, have a 
 melancholy pleasure in drinking your 
 good health. I had hoped," said 
 Brass, looking round with a mournful 
 smile, " to have seen you three gentle- 
 men, one day or another, with your 
 legs under the mahogany in my 
 humble parlour in the Marks. But 
 hopes are fleeting. Dear me ! " 
 
 Mr. Brass found himself so exceed- 
 ingly affected, at this point, that he 
 could say or do nothing more until 
 some refreshment arrived. Having 
 partaken of it, pretty freely for one 
 in his agitated state, he sat down to 
 write. 
 
 The lovely Sarah, now with her 
 arms folded, and now with her hands 
 clasped behind her, paced the room 
 with manly strides while her brother 
 
 was thus employed, and sometimes 
 stopped to pull out her snuff-box and 
 bite the lid. She continued to pace up 
 and down until she was quite tired, 
 and then fell asleep on a chair near 
 the door. 
 
 It has been since supposed, with 
 some reason, that this slumber was a 
 sham or feint, as she contrived to slip 
 away unobserved in the dusk of the 
 afternoon. Whether this was an in- 
 tentional and waking departure, or a 
 somnambulistic leave-taking and walk- 
 ing in her sleep, may remain a subject 
 of contention ; but, on one point (and 
 indeed the main one) all parties are 
 agreed. In whatever state she walked 
 away, she certainly did not walk back 
 again. 
 
 Mention having been made of the 
 dusk of the afternoon, it will be in- 
 ferred that Mr. Brass's task occupied 
 some time in the completion. It was 
 not finished until evening ; but, being 
 done at last, that worthy person and 
 the three friends adjourned in a 
 hackney-coach to the private office of 
 a Justice, who, giving Mr. Brass a 
 warm reception and detaining him in 
 a secure place that he might insure 
 to himself the pleasure of seeing him 
 on the morrow, dismissed the others 
 with the cheering assurance that a 
 warrant could not fail to be granted 
 next day for the apprehension of Mr. 
 Quilp, and that a proper application 
 and statement of all the circumstances 
 to the secretary of state (who was 
 fortunately in town), would no doubt 
 procure Kit's free pardon and libera- 
 tion without delay. 
 
 And now, indeed, it seemed that 
 Quilp's malignant career was drawing 
 to a close, and that retribution, which 
 often travels slowly especially when 
 heaviest had tracked his footsteps 
 with a sure and certain scent and was 
 gaining on him fast. Unmindful of 
 her stealthy tread, her victim holds 
 his course in fancied triumph. Still 
 at his heels she comes, and once afoot, 
 is never turned aside ! 
 
 Their business ended, the three 
 gentlemen hastened back to the lodg- 
 ings of Mr. Swiveller, whom they
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 309 
 
 found progressing so favourably in 
 his recovery as to have been able to 
 sit up for half an hour, and to have 
 conversed with cheerfulness. Mrs. Gar- 
 land had gone home some time since, 
 but Mr. Abel was still sitting with him. 
 After telling him all they had done, 
 the two Mr. Garlands and the single 
 gentleman, as if by some previous 
 understanding, took their leaves for 
 the night, leaving the invalid alone 
 with the Notary and the small servant. 
 
 " As you are so much better," said 
 Mr. Witherden, sitting down at the 
 bedside, " I may venture to communi- 
 cate to you a piece of news which has 
 come to me professionally." 
 
 The idea of any professional intelli- 
 gence from a gentleman connected 
 with legal matters, appeared to afford 
 Richard anything but a pleasing anti- 
 cipation. Perhaps he connected it in 
 his own mind with one or two out- 
 standing accounts, in reference to 
 which he had already received divers 
 threatening letters. His countenance 
 fell as he replied, 
 
 "Certainly, sir. I hope it's not 
 anything of a very disagreeable nature, 
 though ? " 
 
 " If I thought it so, I should choose 
 some better time for communicating 
 it," replied the Notary. " Let me 
 tell you, first, that my friends who 
 
 have been here to-day, know nothing 
 of it, and that their kindness to you 
 has been quite spontaneous and with 
 no hope of return. It may do a 
 thoughtless, careless man, good, to 
 know that." 
 
 Dick thanked him, and said he 
 hoped it would. 
 
 " I have been making some inquiries 
 about you," said Mr. Witherden, 
 " little thinking that I should find you 
 under such circumstances as those 
 which have brought us together. You 
 are the nephew of Rebecca Swiveller, 
 spinster, deceased, of Cheselbourne in 
 Dorsetshire." 
 
 " Deceased ! " cried Dick. 
 
 " Deceased. If you had been another 
 sort of nephew, you would have come 
 into possession (so says the will, 
 and I see no reason to doubt it) of 
 five-and-tweuty thousand pounds. As 
 it is, you have fallen into an annuity of 
 one hundred and fifty pounds a year ; 
 but I think I may congratulate you 
 even upon that." 
 
 "Sir," said Dick, sobbing and 
 laughing together, "you may. For, 
 please God, we'll make a scholar of the 
 poor Marchioness yet ! And she shall 
 walk in silk attire, and siller have to 
 spare, or may I never rise from this 
 bed again ! "
 
 310 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVII. 
 
 UNCONSCIOUS of the proceedings 
 faithfully narrated in the last chapter, 
 and little dreaming of the mine which 
 had been sprung beneath him (for, to 
 the end that he should have no warn- 
 ing of the business a-foot, the pro- 
 foundest secrecy was observed in the 
 whole transaction), Mr. Quilp re- 
 mained shut up in his hermitage, un- 
 disturbed by any suspicion, and ex- 
 tremely well satisfied with the result 
 of his machinations. Being engaged 
 in the adjustment of some accounts 
 an occupation to which the silence and 
 solitude of his retreat were very 
 favourable he had not strayed from 
 his den for two whole days. The 
 third day of his devotion to this pur- 
 suit found him still hard at work, and 
 little disposed to stir abroad. 
 
 It was the day next after Mr. Brass's 
 confession, and, consequently, that 
 which threatened the restriction of Mr. 
 Quilp's liberty, and the abrupt commu- 
 nication to him of some very unplea- 
 sant and unwelcome facts. Having no 
 intuitive perception of the cloud which 
 lowered upon his house, the dwarf was 
 in his ordinary state of cheerfulness ; 
 and, when he found he was becoming 
 too much engrossed by business with a 
 due regard to his health and spirits, 
 he varied its monotonous routine with 
 a little screeching, or howling, or 
 some other innocent relaxation of that 
 nature. 
 
 He was attended, as usual, by Tom 
 Scott, who sat crouching over the fire 
 after the manner of a toad, and, from 
 time to time, when his master's back 
 was turned, imitated his grimaces with 
 a fearful exactness. The figure-head 
 had not yet disappeared, but remained 
 in its old place. The face, horribly 
 seared by the frequent application of 
 the red-hot poker, and further orna- 
 mented by the insertion, in the tip of 
 the nose, of a tenpenny nail, yet smiled 
 blandly in its less lacerated parts, and 
 Nemed, like a sturdy martyr, to pro- 
 
 voke its tormentor to the commission 
 of new outrages and insults. 
 
 The day, in the highest and brightest 
 quarters of the town, was damp, dark, 
 cold, and gloomy. In that low and 
 marshy spot, the fog filled every nook 
 and corner with a thick dense cloud. 
 Every object was obscured at one or 
 two yards' distance. The warning 
 lights and fires upon the river were 
 powerless beneath this pall, and, but 
 for a raw and piercing chilluess in the 
 air, and now and then the cry of some 
 bewildered boatmen as he rested on 
 his oars and tried to make out where 
 he was, the river itself might have 
 been miles away. 
 
 The mist, though sluggish and slow 
 to move, was of a keenly searching 
 kind. No muffling up in furs and 
 broad-cloth kept it out. It seemed to 
 penetrate into the very bones of the 
 shrinking wayfarers, and to rack them 
 with cold and pains. Everything was 
 wet, and clammy to the touch. The 
 warm blaze alone defied it, and leaped 
 and sparkled merrily. It was a day 
 to be at home, crowding about the fire, 
 telling stories of travellers who had 
 lost their way in such weather on 
 heaths and moors ; and to love a warm 
 hearth more than ever. 
 
 The dwarfs humour, as we know, 
 was to have a fireside to himself ; and 
 when he was disposed to be convivial, 
 to enjoy himself alone. By no means 
 insensible to the comfort of being 
 within doors, he ordered Tom Scott 
 to pile the little stove with coals, and, 
 dismissing his work for that day, de- 
 termined to be jovial. 
 
 To this end, he lighted up fresh 
 candles and heaped more fuel on the 
 fire ; and having dined off a beefsteak, 
 which he cooked himself in somewhat 
 of a savage and cannibal-like manner, 
 brewed a great bowl of hot punch, 
 lighted his pipe, and sat down to spend 
 the evening. 
 
 At this moment, a low knocking at
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 311 
 
 the cabin-door arrested his attention. 
 When it had been twice or thrice re- 
 peated, he softly opened the little win- 
 dow, and thrusting his head out, de- 
 manded who was there. 
 
 " Only me, Quilp," replied a woman's 
 voice. 
 
 "Only you!" cried the dwarf, 
 stretching his neck to obtain a better 
 view of his visitor. " And what brings 
 you here, you jade ? How dare you 
 approach the ogre's castle, eh ? " 
 
 " I have come with some news," re- 
 joined his spouse. " Don't be angry 
 with me." 
 
 "Is it good news, pleasant news, 
 news to make a man skip and snap his 
 fingers 2 " said the dwarf. " Is the 
 dear old lady dead ? " 
 
 " I don't know what news it is, or 
 whether it 's good or bad," rejoined 
 his wife. 
 
 " Then she 's alive," said Quilp, 
 " and there 's nothing the matter with 
 her. Go home again, you bird of evil 
 note, go home ! " 
 
 " I have brought a letter " cried 
 the meek little woman. 
 
 " Toss it in at the window here, 
 and go your ways," said Quilp, inter- 
 rupting her, "or I '11 come out and 
 scratch you." 
 
 " No, but please, Quilp do hear me 
 speak," urged his submissive wife, in 
 tears. " Please do !" 
 
 " Speak then," growled the dwarf, 
 with a malicious grin. " Be quick and 
 short About it. Speak, will you 1 " 
 
 " It was left at our house this after- 
 noon," said Mrs. Quilp, trembling, "by 
 a boy who said he didn't know from 
 whom it came, but that it was given to 
 him to leave, and that he was told to 
 say it must be brought on to you 
 directly, for it was of the very greatest 
 consequence. But please," she added, 
 as her husband stretched out his hand 
 for it, " please let me in. You don't 
 know how wet and cold I am, or how 
 .many times I have lest my way in 
 coming here through this thick fog. 
 .Let me dry myself at the fire for five 
 minutes. I'll go away directly you 
 tell me to, Quilp. Upon my word I 
 will." 
 
 Her amiable husband hesitated fora 
 few moments ; but, bethinking himself 
 that the letter might require some 
 answer, of which she could be the 
 bearer, closed the window, opened the 
 door, and bade her enter. Mrs. Quilp 
 obeyed right willingly, and, kneeling 
 down before the fire to warm her 
 hands, delivered into his, a little 
 packet 
 
 " I 'm glad you 're wet," said Quilp, 
 snatching it, and squinting at her. 
 " I 'm glad you 're cold. I 'm glad 
 you 've lost your way. I 'm glad 
 your eyes are red with crying. It does 
 my heart good to see your little nose 
 so pinched and frosty." 
 
 " Oh Quilp ! " sobbed his wife. 
 " How cruel it is of you ! " 
 
 '* Did she think I was dead ! " said 
 Quilp, wrinkling his face into a most 
 extraordinary series of grimaces 
 " Did she think she was going to have 
 all the money, and to marry somebody 
 she liked ? Ha ha ha ! Did she \ " 
 
 These taunts elicited no reply from 
 the poor little woman, who remained 
 on her knees, warming her hands and 
 Bobbing, to Mr. Quilp's great delight 
 But, just as he was contemplating her, 
 and chuckling excessively, he happened 
 to observe that Tom Scott was de- 
 lighted too ; wherefore, that he might 
 have no presumptuous partner in his 
 glee, the dwarf instantly -collared him, 
 dragged him to the door, and after a 
 short scuffle, kicked him into the yard. 
 In return for this mark of attention, 
 Tom immediately walked upon his 
 hands to the window, and if the 
 expression be allowable looked in 
 with his shoes : besides rattling his 
 feet upon the glass like a Banshee 
 upside down. As a matter of course, 
 Mr. Quilp lost no time in resorting to 
 the infallible poker, with which, after 
 some dodging and lying in ambush, 
 he paid his young friend one or two 
 such unequivocal compliments that he 
 vanished precipitately, and left him in 
 quiet possession of the field. 
 
 " So ! That little job being disposed 
 of," said the dwarf, coolly, " I '11 read 
 my letter. Humph ! " he muttered, 
 looking at the direction. *' I ought
 
 312 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 to know this writing. Beautiful 
 Sally ! " 
 
 Opening it, he read, in a fair, round, 
 legal hand, as follows : 
 
 " Sammy has been practised upon, 
 and has broken confidence. It has 
 all come out. You had better not be 
 in the way, for strangers are going to 
 call upon you. They have been very 
 quiet as yet, because they mean to 
 surprise you. Don't lose time. I 
 didn't. I am not to be found any- 
 where. If I was you, I wouldn't be, 
 either. S. B., late of B. M." 
 
 To describe the changes that passed 
 over Quilp's face, as he read this 
 letter half-a-dozen times, would require 
 some new language : such, for power 
 of expression, as was never written, 
 read, or spoken. For a long time he 
 did not utter one word ; but, after a 
 considerable interval, during which 
 Mrs. Quilp was almost paralysed with 
 the alarm his looks engendered, he 
 contrived to gasp out, 
 
 " If I had him here. If I only 
 had him here " 
 
 " Oh Quilp ! " said his wife, " what 's 
 the matter ? Who are you angry 
 with 2 " 
 
 " I should drown him," said the 
 dwarf, not heeding her. " Too easy a 
 death, too short, too quick but the 
 river runs close at hand. Oh ! If I 
 had him here ! Just to take him to 
 the brink, coaxingly and pleasantly, 
 holding him by the button-hole 
 joking with him, and, with a sudden 
 
 Sish, to send him splashing down ! 
 rowning men come to the surface 
 three times they say. Ah ! To see 
 him those three times, and mock him 
 as his face came bobbing up, oh, 
 what a rich treat that would be ! " 
 
 " Quilp ! " stammered his wife, ven- 
 turing at the same time to touch him 
 on the shoulder : " what has gone 
 wrong ? " 
 
 She was so terrified by the relish 
 with which he pictured this pleasure 
 to himself, that she could scarcely 
 make herself intelligible. 
 
 " Such a bloodless cur ! " said 
 Quilp, rubbing his hands very slowly, 
 and pressing them tight together. " I 
 
 thought his cowardice and servility 
 were the best guarantee for his keep- 
 ing silence. Oh Brass, Brass my 
 dear, good, affectionate, faithful, com- 
 plimentary, charming friend if I only 
 had you here ! " 
 
 His wife, who had retreated lest she 
 should seem to listen to these mutter- 
 ings, ventured to approach him again, 
 and was about to speak, when he 
 hurried to the door and called Tom 
 Scott, who, remembering his Late 
 gentle admonition, deemed it prudent 
 to appear immediately. 
 
 " There ! " said the dwarf, pulling 
 him in. " Take her home. Don't 
 come here to-morrow, for this place 
 will be shut up. Come back no more 
 till you hear from me or see me. Do 
 you mind ? " 
 
 Tom nodded sulkily, and beckoned 
 Mrs. Quilp to lead the way. 
 
 " As for you," said the dwarf, 
 addressing himself to her, "ask no 
 questions about me, make no search 
 for me, say nothing concerning me. I 
 shall not be dead, mistress, and that '11 
 comfort you. He '11 take care of 
 you." 
 
 But Quilp ? What is the matter ? 
 Where are you going ? Do say some- 
 thing more." 
 
 K I '11 say that," said the dwarf, 
 seizing her by the arm, " and do that 
 too, which undone and unsaid would 
 be best for you, unless you go directly." 
 
 " Has anything happened ? " cried 
 his wife. Oh ! Do tell me that." 
 
 " Yes," snarled the dwarf. " No. 
 What matter which ? I have told you 
 what to do. Woe betide you if you 
 fail to do it, or disobey me by a hair's 
 breadth. Will you go ! " 
 
 " I am going, I '11 go directly ; but," 
 faltered his wife, " answer me one 
 question first. Has this letter any 
 connexion with dear little Nell ? I 
 must ask you that I must indeed, 
 Quilp. You cannot think what days 
 and nights of sorrow I have had 
 through having once deceived that 
 child. I don't know what harm I 
 may have brought about, but, great or 
 little, I did it for you, Quilp. My 
 conscience misgave me when I did it.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 313 
 
 Do answer me this question, if you 
 please." 
 
 The exasperated dwarf returned no 
 answer, but turned round and caught 
 up his usual weapon with such vehe- 
 mence, that Tom Scott dragged his 
 charge away, by main force, and as 
 swiftly as he could. It was well he did 
 so, for Quilp, who was nearly mad with 
 rage, pursued them to the neighbour- 
 ing lane, and might have prolonged 
 the chase but for the dense mist which 
 obscured them from his view, and 
 appeared to thicken every moment. 
 
 " It will be a good night for travell- 
 ing anonymously," he said, as he 
 returned slowly : being pretty well 
 breathed with his run. " Stay. We 
 may look better here. This is too 
 hospitable and free." 
 
 By a great exertion of strength, he 
 closed the two old gates, which were 
 deeply sunken in the mud, and barred 
 them with a heavy beam. That done, 
 he shook his matted hair from about 
 iis eyes, and tried them. Strong and 
 fast. 
 
 " The fence between this wharf and 
 the next is easily climbed," said the 
 dwarf, when he had taken these pre- 
 cautions. " There 's a back lane, too, 
 from there. That shall be my way 
 out. A man need know his road well, 
 to find it in this lovely place to-night. 
 I need fear no unwelcome visitors 
 while this lasts, I think." 
 
 Almost reduced to the necessity of 
 groping his way with his hands (it 
 had grown so dark and the foe; had 
 so much increased), he returnea to his 
 lair ; and, after musing for some time 
 over the fire, busied himself in pre- 
 parations for a speedy departure. 
 
 While he was collecting a few 
 necessaries and cramming them into 
 his pockets, he never once ceased 
 communing with himself in a low 
 voice, or unclenched his teeth : which 
 he had ground together on finishing 
 Miss Brass's note. 
 
 " Oh Sampson ! " he muttered, 
 "good, worthy creature if I could 
 but hug you ! If I could only fold 
 you in my arms, and squeeze your 
 ribs, as I could squeeze them if I 
 
 once had you tight what a meeting 
 there would be between us ! If we 
 ever do cross each other again, 
 Sampson, we '11 have a greeting not 
 easily to be forgotten, trust me. This 
 time, Sampson, this moment when all 
 had gone on so well, was so nicely 
 chosen ! It was so thoughtful of 
 you, so penitent, so good. Oh, if 
 we were face to face in this room 
 again, my white-livered man of law, 
 how well contented one of us would 
 be !" 
 
 There he stopped ; and raising the 
 bowl of punch to his lips, drank a 
 long deep draught, as if it were fair 
 water and cooling to his parched 
 mouth. Setting it down abruptly, 
 and resuming his preparations, he 
 went on with his soliloquy. 
 
 "There's Sally," he said, with 
 flashing eyes ; " the woman has spirit, 
 determination, purpose was she 
 asleep, or petrified ? She could have 
 stabbed him poisoned him safely. 
 She might have seen this, coming on. 
 Why does she give me notice when 
 it 's too late I When he sat there, 
 yonder there, over there, with his 
 white face, and red head, and sickly 
 smile, why didn't I know what was 
 passing in his heart ? It should have 
 stopped beating, that night, if I had 
 been in his secret, or there are no 
 drugs to lull a man to sleep, and no 
 fire to burn him ! " 
 
 Another draught from the bowl ; 
 and, cowering over the fire with a 
 ferocious aspect, he muttered to him- 
 
 And this, like every other trouble 
 and anxiety I have had of late times, 
 springs from that old dotard and his 
 darling child two wretched feeble 
 wanderers ! I '11 be their evil genius 
 yet. And you, sweet Kit, honest Kit, 
 virtuous, innocent Kit, look to your- 
 self. Where I hate, I bite. I hate 
 you, my darling fellow, with good 
 cause, and proud as you are to- 
 night, I '11 have my turn. What's 
 that ! " 
 
 A knocking at the gate he had 
 closed. A loud and violent knock- 
 ing. Then, a pause ; as if those who
 
 314 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 knocked, had stopped to listen. Then, 
 the noise again, more clamorous and 
 importunate than before. 
 
 " So soon ! " said the dwarf. " And 
 so eager ! I am afraid I shall dis- 
 appoint you. It's well I'm quite pre- 
 pared. Sally, I thank you ! " 
 
 As he spoke, he extinguished the 
 candle. In his impetuous attempts to 
 subdue the brightness of the fire, he 
 overset the stove, which came tum- 
 bling forward, and fell with a crash 
 upon the burning embers it had shot 
 forth in its descent, leaving the room 
 in pitchy darkness. The noise at the 
 ,gate still continuing, he felt his way 
 to the door, and stepped into the 
 open air. 
 
 At that moment the knocking ceased. 
 It was about eight o'clock ; but the 
 dead of the darkest night would have 
 been as noon-day, in comparison with 
 the thick cloud, which then rested 
 upon the earth, and shrouded every- 
 thing from view. He darted for- 
 ward for a few paces, as if into the 
 mouth of some dim, yawning cavern ; 
 then, thinking he had gone wrong, 
 changed the direction of his steps ; 
 then, stood still, not knowing where to 
 turn. 
 
 " If they would knock again," said 
 Quilp, trying to peer into the gloom 
 by which he "was surrounded, "the 
 sound might guide me ! Come ! Battur 
 the gate once more ! " 
 
 He stood listening intently, but the 
 noise was not renewed. Nothing was 
 to be heard in that deserted place, 
 but, at intervals, the distant barkings 
 of dogs. The sound was far away 
 now in one quarter, BOW answered 
 in another nor was it any guide, 
 for it often came from shipboard, as 
 he knew. 
 
 "If I could find a wall or fence," 
 said the dwarf, stretching out his 
 arais, and walking slowly on, " I 
 should know which way to turn. A 
 good, black, devil's night this, to have 
 tny dear friend here ! If I had but 
 that wish, it might, for anything I 
 cared, never be day again." 
 
 As the word passed his lips, he 
 staggered and fell and next moment 
 
 was fighting with the cold dark 
 water ! 
 
 For all its bubbling up and rush- 
 ing in his ears, he could hear the 
 knocking at the gate again -could 
 bear a shout that followed it could 
 recognise the voice. For all his 
 struggling and plashing, lie could un- 
 derstand that they had lost their way, 
 and had wandered back to the point 
 from which they started ; that they 
 were all but looking on, while he was 
 drowned ; that they were close at 
 hand, but could not make an effort to 
 save him ; that he himself had shut 
 and barred them out. He answered 
 the shout with a yell, which seemed 
 to make the hundred fires that danced 
 before his eyes, tremble and flicker as 
 if a gust of wind had stirred them. 
 It was of no avail. The strong tide 
 filled his throat, and bore him on, 
 upon its rapid current. 
 
 Another mortal struggle, and he- 
 was up again, beating the water with 
 his hands, and looking out, with wild 
 and glaring eyes that showed him 
 some black object he was drifting close 
 upon. The hull of a ship ! He could 
 touch its smooth and slippery surface 
 with his hand. One loud cry now 
 but the resistless water bore him down 
 before he could give it utterance, and, 
 driving him under it, carried away a 
 corpse. 
 
 It toyed and sported with its ghastiy 
 freight, now bruising it against the 
 slimy piles, now hiding it in mud or 
 Leag rank grass, now dragging it 
 heavily over rough stones and gravel, 
 now feigning to yield it to its own 
 element, and in the same action 
 luring it away, until, tired of the 
 Ugly plaything, it flung it on a stvamp 
 a dismal place where pirates had 
 swung in chains, through many a 
 wintry night and left it there to 
 'bleach . 
 
 And there it lay, alone. The sky 
 was red with flame, and the water that 
 bore it there, had been tinged with tho 
 sullen light as it flowed along. The 
 place, the deserted carcase had left so 
 recently, a living man, was now a 
 blazing ruin There was something of
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 315 
 
 the glare npon its face. The hair, 
 stirred by the damp breeze, played in 
 a kind of mockery of death such a 
 mockery as the dead man himself 
 
 would have delighted in when alive 
 about its head, and its dress fluttered 
 idly in the night wind. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVIII. 
 
 LIGHTED rooms, bright fires, cheer- 
 ful faces, the music of glad voices, 
 words of love and welcome, warm 
 hearts, and tears of happiness what a 
 change is this ! But it is to such de- 
 lights that Kit is hastening. They are 
 awaiting him, he knows. He fears he 
 will die of joy, before he gets among 
 them. 
 
 They have prepared him for this, all 
 day. He is not to be carried off to- 
 morrow with the rest, they tell him 
 first. By degrees they let him know 
 that doubts have arisen, that inquiries 
 are to be made, and perhaps he may 
 be pardoned after all. At last, the 
 evening being come, they bring him to 
 a room where some gentlemen are 
 assembled. Foremost among them is 
 his good old master, who comes and 
 takes him by the hand. He hears that 
 his innocence is established, and that 
 he is pardoned. He cannot see the 
 speaker, but he turns towards the 
 voice, and in trying to answer, falls 
 down insensible. 
 
 They recover him again, and tell 
 him he must be composed, and bear 
 this like a man. Somebody says he 
 must think of his poor mother. It is 
 because he does think of her so much, 
 that the happy news has overpowered 
 him. They crowd about him, and tell 
 him that the truth has gone abroad, 
 and that all the town and country ring 
 with sympathy for his misfortunes. 
 He has no cars for this. His thoughts, 
 as yet, have no wider range than home. 
 Does she know it I what did she say ? 
 who told her \ He can speak of nothing 
 else. 
 
 They uiaie him drink a little wine, 
 and talk kindly to him for a while, 
 
 until he is more collected, and can 
 listen, and thank them. He is free to 
 go. Mr. Garland thinks, if he feels 
 better, it is time they went away. The 
 gentlemen cluster round him, and shake 
 hands with him. He feels very grateful 
 to them for the interest they have in 
 him, and for the land promises they 
 make ; but the power of speech is 
 gone again, and he lias much ado to 
 keep his feet, even though leaning on 
 his master's arm. 
 
 As they come through the dismal 
 passages, some officers of the jail who 
 are in waiting there, congratulate him, 
 in their rough way, on his release. 
 The newsmonger is of the number, but 
 his manner is not quite hearty there 
 is something of surliness in his com- 
 pliments. He looks upon Kit as an 
 intruder, as one who has obtained 
 admission to that place on false pre- 
 tences, who has enjoyed a privilege 
 without being duly qualified. He may 
 be a very good sort of young man, he 
 thinks, but he has no business there, 
 and the sooner he is gone, the better. 
 
 The last door shuts behind them. 
 They have passed the -outer wall, and 
 stand in the open air in the street ho 
 j has so often pictured to himself when 
 hemmed in by the gloomy stones, 
 and which has been in all his dreams. 
 It seems wider and more busy than it 
 used to be. The night is bad, and yet 
 how cheerful and gay in his eyes ! One 
 of the gentlemen, in taking leave of 
 him, pressed some money into his 
 band. He has not counted it ; but 
 when they have gone a few paces be- 
 yond the box for poor Prisoners, he 
 hastily returns and drops it in. 
 
 Mr. Garland has a. coach waiting in
 
 316 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 a neighbouring street, and, taking Kit 
 inside with him, bids the man drive 
 home. At first, they can only travel at 
 a foot pace, and then with torches going 
 on before, because of the heavy fog. 
 But, as they get farther from the river, 
 and leave the closer portions of the 
 town behind, they are able to dispense 
 with this precaution and to proceed at 
 a brisker rate. On the road, hard gal- 
 loping would be too slow for Kit; but, 
 when they are drawing near their 
 journey's end, he begs they may go 
 more slowly, and, when the house ap- 
 pears in sight, that they may stop 
 only for a minute or two, to give him 
 time to breathe. 
 
 But there is no stopping then, for 
 the old gentleman speaks stoutly to 
 him, the horses mend their pace, and 
 they are already at the garden-gate. 
 Next minute, they are at the door. 
 There is a noise of tongues, and tread 
 of feet, inside. It opens. Kit rushes 
 in, and finds his mother clinging round 
 his neck. 
 
 And there, too, is the ever faithful 
 Barbara's mother, still holding the 
 baby as if she had never put it down 
 since that sad day when they little 
 hoped to have such joy as this there 
 she is, Heaven bless her, crying her 
 eyes out, and sobbing as never woman 
 sobbed before ; and there is little Bar- 
 bara poor little Barbara, so much 
 thinner and so much paler, and yet so 
 very pretty trembling like a leaf and 
 supporting herself against the wall ; 
 and there is Mrs. Garland, neater and 
 nicer than ever, fainting away stone 
 dead with nobody to help her ; and 
 there is Mr. Abel, violently blowing 
 his nose, and wanting to embrace 
 everybody ; and there is the single 
 gentleman hovering round them all, 
 and constant to nothing for an instant; 
 and there is that good, dear, thought- 
 ful little Jacob, sitting all alone by 
 himself on the bottom stair, with his 
 hands on his knees like an old man, 
 roaring fearfully without giving any 
 trouble to anybody ; and each and all 
 of them are for the time clean out of 
 their wits, and do jointly and severally 
 commit all manner of follies. 
 
 And even when the rest have in 
 some measure come to themselves 
 again, and can find words and smiles, 
 Barbara that soft-hearted, gentle, 
 foolish little Barbara is suddenly 
 missed, and found to be in a swoon by 
 herself in the back parlour, from 
 which swoon she falls into hysterics, 
 and from which hysterics into a swoon 
 again, and is, indeed, so bad, that de- 
 spite a mortal quantity of vinegar and 
 cold water she is hardly a bit better fit 
 last than she was at first. Then, Kit's 
 mother comes in and says, will he 
 come and speak to her ; and Kit says 
 " Yes," and goes ; and he says in a 
 kind voice " Barbara ! " and Barbara's 
 mother tells her that " it's only Kit ;" 
 and Barbara says (with her eyes 
 closed all the time) " Oh ! but is it 
 him indeed I " and Barbara's mother 
 says " To be sure it is, my dear ; there 's 
 nothing the matter now." And in 
 further assurance that he 's safe and 
 sound, Kit speaks to her again ; and 
 then Barbara goes off into another lit 
 of laughter, and then into another fit of 
 crying ; and then Barbara's mother 
 and Kit's mother nod to each other 
 and pretend to scold her but only to 
 bring her to herself the faster, bless 
 you ! and being experienced matrons, 
 and acute at perceiving the first dawn- 
 ing symptoms of recovery, they com- 
 fort Kit with the assurance that "she '11 
 do now," and so dismiss him to the 
 place from whence he came. 
 
 Well ! In that place (which is the 
 next room) there are decanters of 
 wine, and all that sort of thing, set 
 out as grand as if Kit and his friends 
 were first-rate company ; and there is 
 little Jacob, walking, as the popular 
 phrase is, into a home-made plumb- 
 cake, at a most surprising pace, and 
 keeping his eye on the figs and oranges 
 which are to follow, and making the 
 best use of his time, you may believe. 
 Kit no sooner comes in, than that 
 single gentleman (never was such a 
 busy gentleman) charges all the glasses 
 bumpers and drinks his health, 
 and tells him he shall never want a 
 friend while he lives ; and so does Mr. 
 Garland, and so does Mrs. Garland,
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 317 
 
 and so does Mr. Abel. But, even this 
 honour and distinction is not all, for 
 the single gentleman forthwith pulls 
 out of his pocket a massive silver 
 watch going hard, and right to half 
 a second and upon the back of this 
 watch is engraved Kit's name, with 
 flourishes all over ; and in short it is 
 Kit's watch, bought expressly for him, 
 and presented to him on the spot. 
 You may rest assured that Mr. and 
 Mrs. Garland can't help hinting about 
 their present, in store, and that Mr. 
 Abel tells outright that he has his ; and 
 that Kit is the happiest of the happy. 
 There is one friend he has not seen 
 yet, and as he cannot be conveniently 
 introduced into the family circle, by 
 reason of his being an iron-shod quad- 
 ruped, Kit takes the first opportunity 
 of slipping away and hurrying to the 
 stable. The moment he lays his hand 
 upon the latch, the pony neighs the 
 loudest pony's greeting ; before he 
 has crossed the threshold, the pony is 
 capering about his loose box (for he 
 brooks not the indignity of a halter), 
 mad to give him welcome ; and when 
 Kit goes up to caress and pat him, the 
 pony rubs his nose against his coat, 
 and fondles him more lovingly than 
 ever pony fondled man. It is 'the 
 crowning circumstance of his earnest, 
 heartfelt reception ; and Kit fairly puts 
 his arm round Whisker's neck and 
 hugs him. 
 
 But how comes Barbara to trip in 
 there ? and how smart she is again ! 
 she has been at her glass since she re- 
 covered. How comes Barbara in the 
 stable, of all places in the world ? 
 Why, since Kit has been away, the 
 pony would take his food from nobody 
 but her, and Barbara, you see, not 
 dreaming Christopher was there, and 
 just looking in, to see that everything 
 was right, has come upon him un- 
 awares. Blushing little Barbara ! 
 
 It may be that Kit has caressed the 
 pony enough ; it may be that there 
 are even better things to caress than 
 ponies. He leaves him for Barbara 
 at any rate, and hopes she is better. 
 Yes. Barbara is a great deal better. 
 She is afraid and here Barbara looks 
 
 down and blushes more that he must 
 have thought her very foolish. " Not 
 at all," says Kit. Barbara is glad of 
 that, and coughs Hem! just the 
 slightest cough possible not more 
 than that. 
 
 What a discreet pony, when he 
 chooses ! He is as quiet now, as if he 
 were of marble. He has a very 
 knowing look, but that he always has. 
 " We have hardly had time to shake 
 hands, Barbara," says Kit. Barbara 
 gives him hers. Why, she is trembling 
 now ! Foolish, fluttering Barbara ! 
 
 Arm's length ? The length of an 
 arm is not much. Barbara's was not 
 a long arm, by any means, and be- 
 sides, she didn't hold it out straight, 
 but bent a little. Kit was so near her 
 when they shook hands, that he could 
 see a small tiny tear, yet trembling on 
 an eyelash. It was natural that he 
 should look at it, unknown to Bar- 
 bara. It was natural that Barbara 
 should raise her eyes unconsciously, 
 and find him out. Was it natural 
 that at that instant, without any 
 previous impulse or design, Kit should 
 kiss Barbara 1 He did it, whether or 
 no. Barbara said "for shame" but 
 let him do it too twice. He might 
 have done it thrice, but the pony 
 kicked up his heels and shook his 
 head, as if he were suddenly laken 
 with convulsions of delight, and Bar- 
 bara being frightened, ran away not 
 straight to where her mother and Kit's 
 mother were, though, lest they should 
 see how red her cheeks were, and 
 should ask her why. Sly little Bar- 
 bara ! 
 
 When the first transports of the 
 whole party had subsided, and Kit and 
 his mother, and Barbara- and her 
 mother, with little Jacob and the baby 
 to boot, had had their suppers toge- 
 ther which there was no hurrying 
 over, for they were going to stop 
 there all night Mr. Garland called 
 Kit to him, and taking him into a room 
 where they could be alone, told him 
 that he had something yet to say, 
 which would surprise him greatly. 
 Kit looked so anxious and turned so 
 pale on hearing this, that the old
 
 318 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 gentleman hastened to add, he would be 
 agreeably surprised ; and asked him 
 if he would be ready next morning 
 for a journey. 
 
 " For a journey, sir ! " cried Kit. 
 " In company with me and my 
 friend in the next room. Can you 
 guess its purpose ? " 
 
 Kit turned paler yet, and shook his 
 head. 
 
 " Oh yes. I think you do already," 
 said his master. " Try." 
 
 Kit murmured something rather 
 rambling and unintelligible, but he 
 plainly pronounced the words " Miss 
 Nell," three or four times shaking 
 his head while he did so, as if he would 
 add that there was no hope of that. 
 
 But Mr. Garland, instead of saying 
 " Try again," as Kit had made sure 
 he would, told him, very seriously, that 
 he had guessed right. 
 
 " The place of their retreat is 
 indeed discovered," he said, " at last. 
 And that is our journey's end." 
 
 Kit faltered out such questions as, 
 where was it, and how had it been 
 found, and how long since, and was 
 she well, and happy f 
 
 " Happy she is, beyond all doubt," 
 said Mr. Garland. " And well, I 1 
 trust she will be soon. She has been 
 weak and ailing, as I learn, but she 
 was better when I heard this morning 
 and they were full of hope. Sit you 
 down, and you shall hear the rest." 
 
 Scarcely venturing to draw his 
 breath, Kit did as he was told. Mr 
 Garland then related to him, how h 
 had a brother (of whom he wouk 
 remember to have heard him speak 
 and whose picture, taken when he was 
 a young man, hung in the best room) 
 and how this brother lived a long wa; 
 off, in a country-place, with an ol 
 clergyman who had been his earlj 
 friend. How, although they love 
 each other as brothers should, the} 
 had not met for many years, but ha< 
 communicated by letter from time t 
 time, always looking forward to som 
 period when they would take eacl 
 
 ther by the hand once more, and 
 till letting the Present time steal on, 
 is it was the habit of men to do, 
 nd suffering the Future to melt into 
 :ie Past. How this brother, whose 
 emper was very mild and quiet and 
 etiring such as Mr. Abel's was 
 greatly beloved by the simple people 
 mong whom he dwelt, who quite 
 evered the Bachelor (for so they 
 ailed him), and had every one ex- 
 erienced his charity and benevolence, 
 low, even those slight circumstances 
 ad come to his knowledge, very 
 lowly and in course of years, ibr the 
 Jachelor was one of those whose 
 goodness shuns the light, and who 
 lave more pleasure in discovering and 
 extolling the good deeds of others, 
 han in trumpeting their own, be they 
 never so commendable. How, for 
 ,hat reason, he seldom told them of 
 iis village friends ; but how, for all 
 ,hat, his mind had become so full of 
 ;wo among them a child and an old 
 man, to whom he had been very kind 
 that, in a letter received a few days 
 before, he had dwelt upon them 
 from first to last, and had told such a 
 tale of their wandering, and mutual 
 love, that few could read it without 
 being moved to tears. How he, the 
 recipient of that letter, was directly 
 led to the belief that these must be 
 the very wanderers for whom so much 
 search had been made, and' whom 
 Heaven had directed to his brother's 
 care. How he had written for such 
 further information as would put the 
 fact beyond all doubt ; how it had 
 that morning arrived ; had confirmed 
 his first impression into a certainty ; 
 and was the immediate cause of that 
 journey being planned, which they 
 were to take to-morrow. 
 
 " In the mean time," said the old 
 gentleman rising, and laying his hand 
 on Kit's shoulder, " you have great 
 need of rest ; for such a day as this, 
 would wear out the strongest man. 
 Good night, and Heaven send our jour- 
 ney may have a prosperous ending ! "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 31 
 
 CHAPTER LXIX. 
 
 KIT was no sluggard next morning, sure, but so much the better Kit 
 but, springing from his bed some time could help her, and that would pass- 
 before day, began to prepare for his I away the time better than any means 
 welcome expedition. The hurry of | that could be devised. Barbara had 
 spirits consequent upon the events of i no objection to this arrangement, and 
 yesterday, and the unexpected intelli- | Kit, tracking out the idea which had 
 gence he had heard at night, had i come upon him so suddenly overnight,, 
 troubled his sleep through the long j began to think that surely Barbara 
 dark hours, and summoned such ua- i was fond of him, and surely he was 
 easy dreams about his pillow that it fond of Barbara, 
 was rest to rise. Now, Barbara, if the truth must be 
 
 But, had it been the beginning of told as it must and ought to be 
 some great labour with the same end I Barbara seemed, of all the little house- 
 in view had it been the commence- I hold, to take least pleasure in the bus- 
 
 ment of a long journey, to be per- 
 formed on foot in that inclement sea- 
 son of the year, to be pursued under 
 every privation and difficulty, and to 
 be achieved only with great distress, 
 fatigue, and suffering had it been the 
 dawn of some painful enterprise, cer- 
 tain to task his utmost powers of reso- 
 lution and endurance, and to need his 
 utmost fortitude, but only likely to 
 end, if happily achieved, hi good for- 
 tune and delight to Nell Kit's cheer- 
 ful zeal would have been as highly 
 roused : Kit's ardour and impatience* 
 would have been, at least, the same. 
 Nor was he alone excited and eager. 
 
 an hour the whole house were astir 
 and busy. Everybody hurried to do 
 something towards facilitating the pre- 
 parations. The single gentleman, it is 
 true, could do nothing himself, but he 
 overlooked everybody else and was 
 more locomotive than anybody. The 
 work of packing and making ready 
 went briskly on, and by daybreak 
 erery preparation for the journey was 
 completed. Then, Kit began to wish 
 they had not been quite so nimble ; for 
 the travelling-carriage which had been 
 hired for the occasion was not to ar- 
 rive until nine o'clock, and there was 
 nothing but breakfast to fill up the in- 
 tervening blank of one hour and a 
 half. 
 
 Yes there was, though. There was 
 Barbara. Barbara was busy, to be 
 
 iff 
 
 tie of the occasion ; and when Kit, in 
 the openness of his heart, told her how 
 glad and overjoyed it made him, Bar- 
 bara became more downcast still, and 
 seemed to have even less pleasure in 
 it than before ! 
 
 " You have not been home so long, 
 Christopher," said Barbara and it is 
 impossible; to tell how carelessly- she 
 said it " You have not been home so 
 long, that you need be glad to go away 
 again, I should think." 
 
 " But for such a purpose," returned 
 Kit. " To bring back Miss Nell ! To 
 see her agaia ! Only think of that ! 
 I am so pleased too, to think that you 
 will see her, Barbara, at last." 
 
 Barbara did not absolutely say that 
 she felt no great gratification on this 
 point, but she expressed the sentiment 
 so plainly by one little toss of her 
 head, that Kit was quite disconcerted, 
 and wondered, in his simplicity, why 
 she was so cool about it. 
 
 " You '11 say she has the sweetest 
 and beautifullest face you ever saw, I 
 know," said Kit, rubbing his hands. 
 " I 'm sure you '11 say that ! " 
 
 Barbara tossed her head again. 
 
 "What's the matter, Barbara?" 
 said Kit. 
 
 " Nothing," cried Barbara. And 
 Barbai-a pouted not sulkily, or in an 
 ugly manner, but just enough to make 
 her look more cherry-lipped than ever. 
 
 There is no school in which a pupil 
 gets ou so fast, as that in which Kit
 
 320 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 became a scholar when he gave Bar- 
 bara the kiss. He saw what Barbara 
 meant now he had his lesson by 
 heart all at once she was the book 
 there it was before him, as plain as 
 print. 
 
 "Barbara," said Kit, "you're not 
 cross with me ? " 
 
 Oh dear no ! Why should Barbara 
 be cross ? And what right had she to 
 be cross ? And what did it matter 
 whether she was cross or no ? Who 
 minded her I 
 
 " Why, / do," said Kit. Of course 
 I do." 
 
 Barbara didn't see why it was of 
 course, at all. 
 
 Kit was sure she must. Would she 
 think again ? 
 
 Certainly, Barbara would think 
 again. No, she didn't see why it was 
 of course. She didn't understand what 
 Christopher meant. And besides she 
 was sure they wanted her up-stairs by 
 this time, and she must go, indeed 
 
 "No, but Barbara," said Kit, de- 
 taining her gently, " let us part friends. 
 I was always thinking of you, in my 
 troubles. I should have been a great 
 deal more miserable than I was, if it 
 hadn't been for you." 
 
 Goodness gracious, how pretty Bar- 
 bara was when she coloured and 
 when she trembled, like a little shrink- 
 ing bird ! 
 
 " I am telling you the truth, Bar- 
 bara, upon my word, but not half so 
 strong as I could wish," said Kit. 
 "When I want you to be pleased 
 to see Miss Nell, it's only because 
 I should like you to be pleased, 
 with what pleases me that's all. 
 As to her, Barbara, I think I could 
 almost die to do her service, but you 
 would think so too, if you knew her 
 as I do. I am sure you would." 
 
 Barbara was touched, and sorry to 
 have appeared indifferent. 
 
 " I have been used, you see," said 
 Kit, " to talk and think of her, almost 
 as if she was an angel. When I look 
 forward to meeting her again, I think 
 of her smiling as she used to do, and 
 being glad to see me, and putting out 
 her hand and .saying, ' It 's my own 
 
 old Kit," or some such words as those 
 like what she used to say. I think 
 of seeing her happy, and with friends 
 about her, and brought up as she de- 
 serves, and as she ought to be. When 
 I think of myself, it 's as her old ser- 
 vant, and one that loved her dearly, 
 as his kind, good, gentle mistress ; and 
 who would have gone yes, and still 
 would go through any harm to serve 
 her. Once, I couldn't help being afraid 
 that if she came back with friends 
 about her she might forget, or be 
 ashamed of having known, a humble 
 lad like me, and so might speak coldly, 
 which would have cut me, Barbara, 
 deeper than I can tell. But when I 
 came to think again, I felt sure that I 
 was doing her wrong in this ; and so 
 I went on, as I did at first, hoping to 
 see her once more, just as she used to 
 be. Hoping this, and remembering 
 what she was, has made me feel as if 
 I would always try to please her, and 
 always be what I should like to seem 
 to her if I was still her servant. If 
 I 'm the better for that and I don't 
 think I 'm the worse I am grateful 
 to her for it, and love and honour her 
 the more. That's the plain honest 
 truth, dear Barbara, upon my word 
 it is ! " 
 
 Little Barbara was not of a way- 
 ward or capricious nature, and, being 
 full of remorse, melted into tears. To 
 what more conversation this might 
 have led, we need not stop to inquire ; 
 for the wheels of the carnage were 
 heard at that moment, and, being 
 followed by a smart ring at the garden 
 gate, caused the bustle in the house, 
 which had laid dormant for a short 
 time, to burst again into tenfold life 
 and vigour. 
 
 Simultaneously with the travelling 
 equipage, arrived Mr. Chuckster in a 
 hackney cab, with certain papers and 
 supplies of money for the single gen- 
 tleman, into whose hands he delivered 
 them. This duty discharged, he sub- 
 sided into the bosotn of the family ; 
 and, entertaining himself with a stroll- 
 ing or peripatetic breakfast, watched, 
 with a genteel indifference, the process 
 of loading the carriage.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 321 
 
 " Snobby 's in this I see, sir ? " he 
 said to Mr. Abel Garland. " I thought 
 he wasn't in the last trip because it 
 was expected that his presence 
 wouldn't be acceptable to the ancient 
 buffalo." 
 
 " To whom, sir." demanded Mr. 
 Abel. 
 
 " To the old gentleman," returned 
 Mr. Chuckster, slightly abashed. 
 
 " Our client prefers to take him 
 now," said Mr. Abel, drily. " There 
 is no longer any need for that precau- 
 tion, as my father's relationship to a 
 gentleman in whom the objects of his 
 search have full confidence, will be a 
 sufficient guarantee for the friendly 
 nature of their errand." 
 
 Ah 1 " thought Mr. Chuckster, 
 looking out of window, " anybody but 
 me ! Snobby before me, of course. 
 He didn't happen to take that parti- 
 cular five-pound note, but I have not 
 the smallest doubt that he's always up 
 to something of that sort. I always 
 said it, long before this came out. 
 Devilish pretty girl that ! Ton my 
 soul, an amazing little creature ! " 
 
 Barbara was the subject of Mr. 
 Chuekster's commendations ; and as 
 she was lingering near the carriage 
 (all being now ready for its departure), 
 that gentleman was suddenly seized 
 with a strong interest in the proceed- 
 ings, which impelled him to swagger 
 down the garden, and take up his posi- 
 tion at a convenient ogling distance. 
 Having had great experience of the 
 sex, and being perfectly acquainted 
 with all those little artifices which find 
 the readiest road to their hearts, Mr. 
 Chuckster, on taking his ground, 
 planted one hand on his hip, and with 
 the other adjusted his flowing hair. 
 This is a favourite attitude in the 
 polite circles, and, accompanied with a 
 graceful whistling, has been known to 
 do immense execution. 
 
 Such, however, is the difference 
 between town and country, that nobody 
 took the smallest notice of this in- 
 sinuating figure ; the wretches being 
 wholly engaged in bidding the travellers 
 farewell, in kissing hands to each other, 
 waving handkerchiefs, and the like 
 No. 84. 
 
 tame and vulgar practices. For, now, 
 the single gentleman and Mr. Garland 
 were in the carriage, and the post-boy 
 was in the saddle, and Kit, well 
 wrapped and muffled up, was in the 
 rumble behind ; and Mrs. Garland 
 was there, and Mr. Abel was there, 
 and Kit's mother was there, and little 
 Jacob was there, and Barbara's mother 
 was visible in remote perspective, 
 nursing the ever-wakeful baby ; and 
 all were nodding, beckoning, curtseying, 
 or crying out, " Good bye !" with all 
 the energy they could express. In 
 another minute, the carriage was out 
 of sight ; and Mr. Chuckster remained 
 alone on the spot where it had lately 
 been, with a vision of Kit standing up 
 in the rumble waving his hand to 
 Barbara, and of Barbara in the full 
 light and lustre of his eyes his eyes 
 Chuekster's Chuckster the successful 
 on whom ladies of quality had looked 
 with favour from phaetons in the parks 
 on Sundays waving hers to Kit ! 
 
 How Mr. Chuckster, entranced by 
 this monstrous fact, stood for some 
 time rooted to the earth, pi-otesting 
 within himself that Kit was the Prince 
 of felonious characters, and very 
 Emperor or Great Mogul of Snobs, and 
 how he clearly traced this revolting 
 circumstance back to that old villauy 
 of the shilling, are matters foreign to 
 our purpose ; which is to track the 
 rolling wheels, and bear the travellers 
 company on their cold, bleak journey. 
 
 It was a bitter day. A keen wind 
 was blowing, and rushed against them 
 fiercely : bleaching the hard ground, 
 shaking the white frost from the trees 
 and hedges, and whirling it away like 
 dust. But, little cared Kit for weather. 
 There was a freedom and freshness in 
 the wind, as it came howling by, 
 which, let it cut never so sharp, was 
 welcome. As it swept on with its 
 cloud of frost, bearing down the dry- 
 wigs and boughs and withered leaves, 
 and carrying them away pell-mell, it 
 seemed as though some general sym- 
 pathy had got abroad, and everything; 
 vas in a hurry, like themselves. The 
 larder the gusts, the better progress 
 ,hev appeared to make. It was a good 
 
 Y 2J
 
 322 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 thing to go struggling and fighting for- 
 ward, vanquishing them one by one ; 
 to watch them driving up, gathering 
 strength and fury as they came along ; 
 to bend for a moment, as they whistled 
 past ; and then, to look back and see 
 them speed away, their hoarse noise 
 dying in the distance, and the stout 
 trees cowering down before them. 
 
 All day long, it blew without cessa- 
 tion. The night was clear and star- 
 light, but the wind had not fallen, and 
 the cold was piercing. Sometimes 
 towards the end of a long stage Kit 
 could not help wisliing it were a little 
 warmer : but when they stopped to 
 change horses, and he had had a good 
 run, and what with that, and the 
 bustle of paying the old postilion, and 
 rousing the new one, and running to 
 and fro again until the horses were 
 put to, he was so warm that the blood 
 tingled and smarted in his fingers' 
 ends then, he felt as if to have it one 
 degree less cold would be to lose half 
 the delight and glory of the journey : 
 and up he jumped again, right cheerily, 
 singing to the merry music of the 
 wheels as they rolled away, and, 
 leaving the townspeople in their warm 
 beds, pursued their course along the 
 lonely road. 
 
 Meantime the two gentlemen inside, 
 who were little disposed to sleep, be- 
 guiled the time with conversation. As 
 both were anxious and expectant, it 
 naturally turned upon the subject of 
 their expedition, on' the manner in 
 which it had been brought about, and 
 on the hopes and fears they enter- 
 tained respecting it. Of the former 
 they had many, of the latter few 
 none perhaps beyond that indefinable 
 uneasiness which is inseparable from 
 suddenly awakened hope, and pro- 
 tracted expectation. 
 
 In one of the pauses of their dis- 
 course, and when half the night had 
 worn away, the single gentleman, who 
 had gradually become more and more 
 silent and thoughtful, turned to his 
 companion and said abruptly : 
 
 " Are you a good listener ? " 
 
 " Like most other men, I suppose," 
 returned Mr. Garland, smiling. " I 
 
 can be, if I am interested ; and if not 
 interested, I should still try to appear 
 so. Why do you ask 1 " 
 
 " I have a short narrative on my 
 lips," rejoined his friend, "and will 
 try you with it. It is very brief." 
 
 Pausing for no reply, he laid his 
 hand on the old gentleman's sleeve, 
 and proceeded thus : 
 
 " There were once two brothers, 
 who loved each other dearly. There 
 was a disparity in their ages some 
 twelve years. I am not sure but they 
 may insensibly have loved each other 
 the better for that reason. Wide as 
 the interval between them was, how- 
 ever, they became rivals too soon. 
 The deepest and strongest affection 
 of both their hearts settled upon one 
 object. 
 
 " The youngest there were reasons 
 for his being sensitive and watchful 
 was the first to find this out. I will 
 not tell you what misery he under- 
 went, what agony of soul he knew, 
 how great his mental struggle .was. 
 He had been a sickly child. His 
 brother, patient and considerate in the 
 midst of his own high health and 
 strength, had many and many a day 
 denied himself the sports he loved, to 
 sit beside his couch, telling him old 
 stories till his pale face lighted up with 
 an unwonted glow ; to carry him in 
 his arms to some green spot, where he 
 could tend the poor pensive boy as he 
 looked upon the bright summer day, 
 and saw all nature healthy but him- 
 self ; to be, in anyway, his fond and 
 faithful nurse. I may not dwell on all 
 he did, to make the poor, weak crea- 
 ture love him, or my tale would have 
 no end. But when the time of trial 
 came, the younger brother's heart was 
 full of those old days. Heaven 
 strengthened it to repay the sacrifices 
 of inconsiderate youth by one of 
 thoughtful manhood. He left his 
 brother to be happy. The trutli never 
 passed his lips, and he quitted the 
 country, hoping to die abroad. 
 
 "The elder brother married her. 
 She was in Heaven before long, and 
 left him with an infant daughter. 
 
 "If you have seen the picture-gal
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 323 
 
 lery of any one old family, you will 
 remember how the same face and 
 figure often the fairest and slightest 
 of them all come upon you in dif- 
 ferent generations ; and how you trace 
 the same sweet girl through a long line 
 of portraits never growing old or 
 changing the Good Angel of the race 
 abiding by them in all reverses 
 redeeming all their sins 
 
 " In this daughter, the mother lived 
 again. You may judge with what 
 devotion he who lost that mother 
 almost in the winning, clung to this 
 girl, her breathing image. She grew 
 to womanhood, and gave her heart to 
 one who could not know its worth. 
 Well ! Her fond father could not see 
 her pine and droop. He might be 
 more deserving than he thought him. 
 He surely might become so, with a 
 wife like her. He joined their hands, 
 and they were married. 
 
 "Through all the misery that fol- 
 lowed this union ; through all the cold 
 neglect and undeserved reproach ; 
 through all the poverty he brought 
 upon her ; through all the struggles of 
 their daily life, too mean and pitiful to 
 tell, but dreadful to endure ; she toiled 
 on, in the deep devotion of her spirit, 
 and in her better nature, as only 
 women can. Her means and sub- 
 stance wasted ; her father nearly beg- 
 gared by her husband's hand, and the 
 hourly witness (for they lived now 
 under one roof) of her ill-usage and 
 unhappiness, she never, but for him, 
 bewailed her fate. Patient, and upheld 
 by strong affection to the last, she 
 died a widow of some three weeks' 
 date, leaving to her father's care two 
 orphans ; one a son of ten or twelve 
 years old ; the other a girl such 
 another infant child the same in 
 helplessness, in age, in form, in feature 
 as she had been herself when her 
 young mother died. 
 
 " The elder brother, grandfather to 
 these two children, was now a broken 
 man ; crushed and borne down, less 
 by the weight of years than by the 
 heavy hand of sorrow. With the 
 wreck of his possessions, he began to 
 trade in pictures first, and then in 
 
 curious ancient things. He had enter- 
 tained a fondness for such matters 
 from a boy, and the tastes he had cul- 
 tivated were now to yield him an 
 anxious and precarious subsistence. 
 
 "The boy grew like his father in 
 mind and person ; the girl so like her 
 mother, that when the old man had 
 her on his knee, and looked into her 
 mild blue eyes, he felt as if awaken- 
 ing from a wretched dream, and his 
 daughter were a little child again. 
 The wayward boy soon spurned the 
 shelter of his roof, and sought asso- 
 ciates more congenial to his taste. 
 The old man and the child dwelt alone 
 together. 
 
 " It was then, when the love of two 
 dead people who had been nearest and 
 dearest to his heart, was all trans- 
 ferred to this slight creature ; when 
 her face, constantly before him, re- 
 minded him, from hour to hour, of the 
 too early change he had seen in such 
 another of all the sufferings he had 
 watched and known, and all his child 
 had undergone ; when the young man's 
 profligate and hardened course drained 
 him of money as his father's had, and 
 even sometimes occasioned them tem- 
 porary privation and distress ; it was 
 then that there began to beset him, 
 and to be ever in his mind, a gloomy 
 dread of poverty and want. He had 
 no thought for himself in this. His 
 fear was for the child. It was a spec- 
 tre in his house, and haunted him 
 night and day. 
 
 " The younger brother had been 
 a traveller in many countries, and had 
 made his pilgrimage through life alone. 
 His voluntary banishment had been 
 misconstrued, and he had borne (not 
 without pain) reproach and slight, for 
 doing that which had wrung his heart, 
 and cast a mournful shadow on his 
 path. Apart from this, communica- 
 tion between him and the elder was 
 difficult, and uncertain, and often 
 failed ; still, it was not so wholly 
 broken off but that he learnt^with 
 long blanks and gaps between each in- 
 terval of information all that I have 
 told you now. 
 
 " Then, dreams of their young, happy 
 
 T2
 
 324 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 life happy to him though laden with 
 pain and early care visited his pillow 
 yet oftener than before ; and every 
 night, a boy again, he was at his 
 brother's side. With the utmost speed 
 he could exert, he settled his affairs ; 
 converted into money all the goods he 
 had ; and, with honourable wealth 
 enough for both, with open heart and 
 hand, with limbs that trembled as they 
 bore him on, with emotion such as men 
 can hardly bear and live, arrived one 
 evening at his brother's door ! " 
 
 The narrator, whose voice had fal- 
 tered lately, stopped. " The rest," 
 said Mr. Garland, pressing his hand 
 after a pause, " I know." 
 
 "Yes," rejoined his friend, "we 
 may spare ourselves the sequel. You 
 know the poor result of all my search. 
 Even when, by dint of such inquiries 
 as the utmost vigilance and sagacity 
 could set on foot, we found they had 
 
 f been seen with two poor travelling 
 | showmen and in time discovered the 
 men themselves and in time, the 
 actual place of their retreat ; even 
 then, we were too , late. Pray God 
 we are not too late again ! " 
 
 " We cannot be," said Mr. Garland. 
 " This time we must succeed." 
 
 " I have believed and hoped so," re- 
 turned the other. " I try to believe 
 and hope so still. But a heavy weight 
 has fallen on my spirits, my good 
 friend, and the sadness that gathers 
 over me, will yield to neither hope nor 
 reason." 
 
 " That does not surprise me," said 
 Mr. Garland ; " it is a natural conse- 
 quence of the events you have recalled ; 
 of this dreary time and place ; and 
 above all, of this wild and dismal night. 
 A dismal night, indeed ! Hark ! how 
 the wind is howling ! "
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOK 
 
 325 
 
 CHAPTER LXX. 
 
 DAY broke, and found them still some not distant town. He could de- 
 scry objects enough at such times, but 
 none correctly. Now, a tall church 
 spire appeared in view, which pre- 
 sently became a tree, a barn, a 
 shadow on the ground, thrown on it 
 by their own bright lamps. Now, 
 there were horsemen, foot-passengers, 
 carriages, going on before, or meeting 
 them in narrow ways ; which, when 
 they were close upon them, turned to 
 shadows too. A wall, a ruin, a sturdy 
 gable end, would rise up in the road ; 
 and, when they were plunging head- 
 long at it, would be the road itself. 
 Strange turnings too, bridges, and 
 sheets of water, appeared to start up 
 here and there, making the way doubt- 
 ful and uncertain ; and yet they were 
 on the same bare road, and these 
 things, like the others, as they were 
 passed, turned into dim illusions. 
 
 He descended slowly from his seat 
 for his limbs were numbed when 
 they arrived at a lone posting-house, 
 and inquired how far they had to go 
 to reach their journey's end. It was 
 a late hour in such by-places, and 
 the people were abed ; but a voice 
 answered from an upper window, Ten 
 miles. The ten minutes that ensued 
 appeared an hour ; but at the end of 
 that time, a shivering figure led out 
 the horses they required, and after 
 another brief delay they were again 
 in motion. 
 
 It was a cross-country road, full, 
 after the first three or four miles, 
 of holes and cart-ruts, which, being 
 covered by the snow, were so many 
 pitfalls to the trembling horses, and 
 obliged them to keep a footpace. As 
 it was next to impossible for men so 
 much agitated as they were by this 
 
 upon their way. Since leaving home, 
 they had halted here and there for 
 necessary refreshment, and had fre- 
 quently been delayed, especially in the 
 night time, by waiting for fresh horses. 
 They had made no other stoppages, 
 but the weather continued rough, and 
 the roads were often steep and heavy. 
 It would be night again before they 
 reached their place of destination. 
 
 Kit, all bluff and hardened with the 
 cold, went on manfully ; and, having 
 enough to do to keep his blood circu- 
 lating, to picture to himself the happy 
 end of this adventurous journey, and 
 to look about him and be amazed at 
 everything, had little spare time for 
 thinking of discomforts. Though his 
 impatience, and that of his fellow- 
 travellers, rapidly increased as the day 
 waned, the hours did not stand still. 
 The short daylight of winter soon 
 faded away, and it was dark again 
 when they had yet many miles to 
 travel. , 
 
 As it grew dusk, the wind fell ; its 
 distant meanings were more low and 
 mournful ; and, as it came creeping up 
 the road, and rattling covertly among 
 the dry brambles on either hand, it 
 seemed like some great phantom for 
 whom the way was narrow, whose 
 garments rustled as it stalked along. 
 By degrees it lulled and died away, 
 and then it came on to snow. 
 
 The flakes fell fast and thick, soon 
 covering the ground some inches deep, 
 and spreading abroad a solemn still- 
 ness. The rolling wheels were noise- 
 less, and the sharp ring and clatter 
 of the horses' hoofs, became a dull, 
 muffled tramp. Tlie life of their pro- 
 gress seemed to be slowly hushed, 
 and something death-like to usurp its 
 place. 
 
 Shading his eyes from the falling ; the carriage. The distance seemed 
 snow, which froze upon their lashes | interminable, and the walk was most 
 and obscured his sight, Kit often tried laborious. As each was thinking 
 to catch the earliest glimpse of twink- within himself that the driver must 
 ling lights denoting their approach to , have lost his way, a church bell, close 
 
 time, to sit still and move so slowly, all 
 three got out and plodded on behind
 
 326 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 at hand, struck the hour of midnight, 
 and the carriage stopped. It had 
 moved softly enough, but when it 
 ceased to crunch the snow, the silence 
 was as startling as if some great noise 
 had been replaced by perfect stillness. 
 
 " This is the place, gentlemen," said 
 the driver, dismounting from his 
 horse, and knocking at the door of a 
 little inn. " Halloa ! Past twelve 
 o'clock is the dead of night here." 
 
 The knocking was loud and long, but 
 it failed to rouse the drowsy inmates. 
 All continued dark and silent as before. 
 They fell back a little, and looked 
 up at the windows, which were mere 
 black patches in the whitened house 
 front. No light appeared. The house 
 might . have been deserted, or the 
 sleepers dead, for any air of life it had 
 about it. 
 
 They spoke together, with a strange 
 inconsistency, in whispers ; unwilling 
 to disturb again, the dreary echoes 
 they had just now raised. 
 
 " Let us go on," said the younger 
 brother, "and leave this good fellow 
 to wake them, if he can. I cannot 
 rest until I know that we are not too 
 late. Let us go on, in the name of 
 Heaven ! " 
 
 They did so, leaving the postilion to 
 order such accommodation as the 
 house afforded, and to renew his 
 knocking. Kit accompanied them 
 with a little bundle, which he had 
 hung in the carriage when they left 
 home, and had not forgotten since 
 the bird in his old cage just as she 
 had left him. She would be glad to 
 see her bird, he knew. 
 
 The road wound gently downward. 
 As they proceeded, they lost sight 
 of the church whose clock they had 
 heard, and of the small village cluster- 
 ing round it. The knocking, which 
 was now renewed, and which in that 
 stillness they could plainly hear, 
 troubled them. They wished the man 
 would forbear, or that they had told 
 him not to break the silence until they 
 returned. 
 
 The old church tower, clad in a 
 ghostly garb of pure cold white, again 
 rose up before them, and a few 
 
 moments brought them close beside it. 
 A venerable building grey, even in 
 the midst of the hoary landscape. An 
 ancient sun-dial 'on the belfry wall 
 was nearly hidden by the snow-drift, 
 and scarcely to be known for what it 
 was. Time itself seemed to have 
 grown dull and old, as if no day were 
 ever to displace the melancholy 
 night. 
 
 A wicket gate was close at hand, 
 but there was more than one path 
 across the churchyard to which it led, 
 and, uncertain which to take, they 
 came to a stand again. 
 
 The village street if street that 
 could be called which was an irregular 
 cluster of poor cottages of many 
 heights and ages, some with their 
 fronts, some with their backs, and 
 some with gable ends towards the 
 road, with here and there a signpost, 
 or a shed encroaching on the path 
 was close at hand. There was a faint 
 light in a chamber window not far off, 
 and Kit ran towards that house to ask 
 their way. 
 
 His first shout was answered by 
 an old man within, who presently 
 appeared at the casement* wrapping 
 some garment round his throat as a 
 protection from the cold,and demanded 
 who was abroad at that unseasonable 
 hour, wanting him. 
 
 " ' Tis hard weather this," he grum- 
 bled, " and not a night to call me up 
 in. My trade is not of that kind that 
 I need be roused from bed. The 
 business on which folks want me, will 
 keep cold, especially at this season. 
 What do you want ? " 
 
 " I would not have roused you, if I 
 had known you were old and ill," said 
 Kit. 
 
 " Old ! " repeated the other peevishly. 
 " How do you know I am old ? Not so 
 old as you think, friend, perhaps. As 
 to being ill, you will find many young 
 people in worse case than I am. 
 More 's the pity that it should be so 
 not that I should be strong and 
 hearty for my years, I mean, but that 
 they should be weak and tender. I 
 ask your pardon though," said the old 
 man, " if I spoke rather rough at first.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 327 
 
 My eyes are not good at night that 's 
 neither age nor illness ; they never 
 were and I didn't see you were a 
 stranger." 
 
 " I am sorry to call you from your 
 bed," said Kit, " but those gentlemen 
 you may see by the churchyard gate, 
 are strangers too, who have just 
 arrived from a long journey, and seek 
 the parsonage-house. You can direct 
 us 2 " 
 
 " I should be able to," answered the 
 old man, in a trembling voice, " for, 
 come next summer, I have been sexton 
 here, good fifty years. The right-hand 
 path, friend, is the road. There is no 
 ill news for our good gentleman, I 
 hope ? " 
 
 Kit thanked him, and made him a 
 hasty answer in the negative ; he was 
 turning back, when his attention was 
 caught by the voice of a child. Looking 
 up, he saw a very little creature at a 
 neighbouring window. 
 
 "What is that? "cried the child, 
 earnestly. " Has my dream come 
 true 1 Pray speak to me, whoever that 
 is, awake and up." 
 
 " Poor boy ! " said the sexton, before 
 Kit could answer, "how goes it, 
 darling 1 " 
 
 " Has my dream come true ? " ex- 
 claimed the child again, in a voice so 
 fervent that it might have thrilled to 
 the heart of any listener. " But no, 
 that can never be ! How could it be 
 Oh ! how could it ! " 
 
 "I guess his meaning," said the 
 sexton. " To bed again, poor boy !" 
 
 " Ay ! " cried the child, in a burst 
 of despair. " I knew it could never 
 be, I felt too sure of that, before I 
 asked ! But, all to-night, and last night 
 
 too, it was the same. I never fall he might have gone more slowly, or 
 
 asleep, but that cruel dream comes 
 back." 
 
 " Try to sleep again," said the old 
 man, soothingly. " It will go, in 
 time." 
 
 " No no, I would rather that it staid 
 cruel as it is, I would rather that it 
 staid," rejoined the child. " I am not 
 afraid to have it in my sleep, but I am 
 so sad so very, very sad." 
 
 The old man blessed him, the child 
 
 in tears replied Good night, and Kit 
 was again alone. 
 
 He hurried back, moved by what 
 he had heard, though more by the 
 child's manner than by anything he 
 had said, as his meaning was hidden 
 from him. They took the path indi- 
 cated by the sexton, and soon arrived 
 before the parsonage wall. Turning 
 round to look about them when they 
 had got thus far, they saw, among 
 some ruined buildings at a distance, 
 one single solitary light. 
 
 It shone from what appeared to be 
 an old oriel window, and being sur- 
 rounded by the deep shadows of over- 
 hanging walls, sparkled like a star. 
 Bright and glimmering as the stars 
 above their heads, lonely and motion- 
 less as they, it seemed to claim some 
 kindred with the eternal lamps of 
 Heaven, and to burn in fellowship 
 with them. 
 
 "What light is that!" said the 
 younger brother. 
 
 " It is surely," said Mr. Garland, 
 " in the ruin where they live. I see 
 no other ruin hereabouts." 
 
 "They cannot," returned the bro- 
 ther hastily, " be waking at this late 
 hour" 
 
 Kit interposed directly, and begged 
 that, while they rang and waited at 
 the gate, they would let him make his 
 way to where this light was shining, 
 and try to ascertain if any people 
 were about. Obtaining the permis- 
 sion he desired, he darted off with 
 breathless eagerness, and, still carry- 
 ing the birdcage in his hand, made 
 straight towards the spot. 
 
 It was not easy to hold that pace 
 among the graves, and at another time 
 
 round by the path. Unmindful of all 
 obstacles, however, he pressed forward 
 without slackening his speed, and soon 
 arrived within a few yards of the 
 window. 
 
 He approached as softly as he could, 
 and advancing so near the wall as to 
 brush the whitened ivy with his dress, 
 listened. There was no sound inside. 
 The church itself was not more quiet 
 Touching the glass with his cheek, he
 
 3-28 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 listened again. No. And yet there 
 wts sueli a silence all around, that he 
 felt sure he could have heard even 
 the breathing of a sleeper, if there had 
 been one there. 
 
 A strange circumstance, a light in 
 such a place at that time of night, 
 with no one near it. 
 
 A curtain was drawn across the 
 lower portion of the window, and he 
 could not see into the room. But 
 there was no shadow thrown upon it 
 from within. To have gained a foot- 
 ing on the wall and tried to look in 
 from above, would have been attended 
 with some danger certainly with 
 some noise, and the chance of terrify- 
 ing the child, if that really were her 
 habitation. Again and again he 
 listened ; again and again the same 
 wearisome blank. 
 
 Leaving the spot with slow and 
 cautious steps, and skirting the ruin 
 for a few paces, he came at length to 
 
 a door. He knocked. No answer. 
 But there was a curious noise inside- 
 It was difficult to determine what it 
 was. It bore a resemblance to the 
 low moaning of one in pain, but it was 
 not that, being far too regular and 
 constant. Now it seemed a kind ol 
 song, now a wail seemed, that is, to 
 his changing fancy, for the sound 
 itself was never changed or checked. 
 It was unlike anything he had ever 
 heard ; and in its tone there was some- 
 thing fearful, chilling, and unearthly. 
 
 The listener's blood ran colder now, 
 than ever it had done in frost and 
 snow, but he knocked again. There 
 was no answer, and the sound went 
 on without any interruption. He laid 
 his hand softly upon the latch, and 
 put his knee against the door. It was 
 secured on the inside, but yielded to 
 the pressure, and turned upoii its 
 hinges. He saw the glimmering of a 
 fire upon the oH walls, and entered.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 329 
 
 CHAPTER LXXI. 
 
 THE dull, red glow of a wood fire 
 for no lamp or candle burnt within 
 the room showed him a figure, seated 
 on the hearth with its back towards 
 him, bending over the fitful light. The 
 attitude was that of one who sought 
 the heat. It was, and yet was not. 
 The stooping posture and the cower- 
 ing form were there, but no hands 
 were stretched out to meet the grate- 
 ful warmth, no shrug or shiver com- 
 pared its luxury with the piercing cold 
 outside. With limbs huddled toge- 
 ther, head bowed down, arms crossed 
 upon the breast, and fingers tightly 
 clenched, it rocked to and fro upon its 
 seat without a moment's pause, accom- 
 panying the action with the mournful 
 sound he had heard. 
 
 The heavy door had closed behind 
 him on his entrance, with a crash that 
 made him start. The figure neither 
 spoke, nor turned to look, nor gave in 
 any other way the faintest sign of 
 having heard the noise. The form 
 was that of an old man, his white 
 head akin in colour to the mouldering 
 embers upon which he gazed. He, 
 and the failing light and dying fire, 
 the time-worn room, the solitude, the 
 wasted life, and gloom, were all in 
 fellowship. Ashes, and dust, and ruin ! 
 
 Kit tried to speak, and did pro- 
 nounce some words, though what they 
 were he scarcely knew. Still the same 
 terrible low cry went on still the 
 same rocking in the chair the same 
 stricken figure was there, unchanged 
 and heedless of his presence. 
 
 He had his hand upon the latch, 
 when something in the form dis- 
 tinctly seen as one log broke and fell, 
 and, as it fell, blazed up arrested it. 
 He returned to where he had stood 
 before advanced a pace another 
 another still. Another, and he saw 
 the face. Yes ! Changed as it was, he 
 knew it well. 
 
 " Master ! " he cried, stooping on 
 one knee and catching at his hand. 
 " Dear master. Speak to me ! " 
 
 The old man turned slowly towards 
 him; and muttered in a hollow voice, 
 
 " This is another ! How many of 
 these spirits there have been to-night ! " 
 
 " No spirit, master. No one but 
 your old servant. You know me now, 
 I am sure ? Miss Nell where is she 
 -where is she ! " 
 
 " They all say that ! " cried the old 
 man. " They all ask the same ques- 
 tion. A spirit ! " 
 
 " Where is she ? " demanded Kit. 
 " Oh tell me but that but that, dear 
 master ! " 
 
 " She is asleep vender in there." 
 
 Thank God ! " " 
 
 Aye ! Thank God ! " returned the 
 old man. " I have prayed to Him, 
 many, and many, and many a livelong 
 night, when she has been asleep, He 
 knows. Hark ! Did she call ? " 
 
 " I heard no voice." 
 
 " You did. You hear her now. Do 
 you tell me that you don't hear that ? " 
 
 He started up, and listened again. 
 
 " Nor that ? " he cried, with a. 
 triumphant smile. " Can any body 
 know that voice so well as I ! Hush ! 
 hush ! " 
 
 Motioning to him to be silent, he 
 stole away into another chamber. 
 After a short absence (during which 
 he could be heard to speak in a 
 softened soothing tone) he returned, 
 bearing in his hand a lamp. 
 
 " She is still asleep," he whispered. 
 " You were right. She did not call 
 unless she did so hi her slumber. She 
 has called to me in her sleep before 
 now, sir ; as I have sat by, watching, I 
 have seen her lips move, and have 
 known, though no sound came from 
 them, that she spoke of me. I feared 
 the light might dazzle her eyes and 
 wake her, so I brought it here." 
 
 He spoke rather to himself than to- 
 the visitor, but when he had put the 
 lamp upon the table, he took it up, as 
 if impelled by some momentary re- 
 collection or curiosity, and held it 
 1 near his face. Then, as if forgetting
 
 330 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 his motive in the very action, he turned 
 away and put it down again. 
 
 " She is sleeping soundly," he said ; 
 "but no wonder. Angel hands have 
 strewn the ground deep with snow, 
 that the lightest footstep may be 
 lighter yet ; and the very birds are 
 dead, that they may not wake her. 
 She used to feed them, sir. Though 
 never so cold and hungry, the timid 
 things would fly from us. They never 
 flew from her ! " 
 
 Again he stopped to listen, and 
 scarcely drawing breath, listened for a 
 long, long time. That fancy past, he 
 opened an old chest, took out some 
 clothes as fondly as if they had been 
 living things, and began to smooth 
 and brush them with his hand. 
 
 " Why dost thou lie so idle there, 
 dear Nell," he murmured, " when 
 there are bright red berries out of 
 doors waiting for thee to pluck them ! 
 Why dost thou lie so idle there, when 
 thy little friends come creeping to the 
 door, crying ' where is Nell sweet 
 Nell ? ' and sob, and weep, because 
 they do not see thee. She was always 
 gentle with children. The wildest 
 would do her bidding she had a 
 tender wav with them, indeed she 
 had ! " 
 
 Kit had no power to speak. His 
 eyes were filled with tears. 
 
 " Her little homely dress, her 
 favourite ! " cried the old man, pressing 
 it to his breast, and patting it with 
 his shrivelled hand. " She will miss 
 it when she wakes. They have hid it 
 here in sport, but she shall have it 
 she shall have it. I would not vex 
 my darling, for the wide world's 
 riches. See here these shoes how 
 worn they are she kept them to 
 remind her of our last long journey. 
 You see where the little feet went bare 
 upon the ground. They told me, 
 afterwards, that the stones had cat 
 and bruised them. She never told me 
 that. No, no, God bless her ! and, 
 I have remembered since, she walked 
 behind me, sir, that I might not see 
 how lame she was but yet she had 
 my hand in hers, and seemed to lead 
 me still." - 
 
 He pressed them to his lips, and 
 having carefully put them back again, 
 went on communing with himself 
 looking wistfully from time to time 
 towards the chamber he had lately 
 visited. 
 
 " She was not wont to be a lie-abed; 
 but she was well then. We must 
 have patience. When she is well 
 again, she will rise early, as she 
 used to do, and ramble abroad in the 
 healthy morning time. 1 often tried to 
 track the way she had gone, but her 
 small footstep left no print upon the 
 dewy ground, to guide me. Who is 
 that ? Shut the door. Quick ! Have 
 we not enough to do to drive away 
 that marble cold, and keep her warm ! " 
 
 The door was indeed opened, for the 
 entrance of Mr. Garland and his friend, 
 accompanied by two other persons. 
 These were the schoolmaster, and the 
 bachelor. The former held a light in 
 his hand. He had, it seemed, but 
 gone to his own cottage to replenish 
 the exhausted lamp, at the moment 
 when Kit came up and found the old 
 man alone. 
 
 He softened again at sight of these 
 two friends, and, laying aside the angry 
 manner if to anything so feeble and 
 so sad the term can be applied in 
 which he had spoken when the door 
 opened, resumed his former seat, and 
 subsided, by little and little, into the 
 old action, and the old, dull, wandering 
 sound. 
 
 Of the strangers, he took no heed 
 whatever. He had seen them, but 
 appeared quite incapable of interest or 
 curiosity. The younger brother stood 
 apart. The bachelor di'ew a chair 
 towards the old man, and sat down 
 close beside him. After a long silence, 
 he ventured to speak. 
 
 " Another night, and not in bed ! 
 he said softly ; " I hoped you would 
 be more mindful of your promise to 
 me. Why do you not take some rest ?" 
 
 " Sleep has left me," returned the 
 old man. " It is all with her ! " 
 
 "It would pain her very much to 
 know that you were watching thus," 
 said the bachelor. u You would not 
 give her pain ?"
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 331 
 
 <*I am not so sure of that, if it 
 would only rouse her. She has slept 
 so very long. And yet I am rash to 
 say so. It is a good and happy sleep 
 eh?" 
 
 " Indeed it is," returned the bachelor. 
 " Indeed, indeed, it is ! " 
 
 " That 's well ! and the waking" 
 faltered the old man. 
 
 " Happy too. Happier than tongue 
 can tell, or heart of man conceive." 
 
 They watched him as he rose and 
 stole on tiptoe to the other chamber 
 where the lamp had been replaced. 
 They listened as he spoke again within 
 its silent walls. They looked into the 
 faces of each other, and no man's 
 cheek was free from tears. He came 
 back, whispering that she was still 
 asleep, but that he thought she had 
 moved. It was her hand, he said a 
 little a very, very little but he was 
 pretty sure she had moved it perhaps 
 in seeking his. He had known her do 
 that, before now, though in the deepest 
 sleep the while. And when he had 
 said this, he dropped into his chair 
 again, and clasping his hands above 
 his head, uttered a cry never to be 
 forgotten. 
 
 The poor schoolmaster motioned to 
 the bachelor that he would come on 
 the other side, and speak to him. 
 They gently unlocked his fingers, which 
 he had twisted in his grey hair, and 
 pressed them in their own. 
 
 " He will hear me," said the school- 
 master, " I am sure. He will hear 
 either me or you if we beseech him. 
 She would, at all times." 
 
 " I will hear any voice she liked to 
 hear," cried the old man. " I love all 
 she loved ! " 
 
 "I know you do," returned the 
 schoolmaster. " I am certain of it. 
 Think of her ; think of all the sorrows 
 and afflictions you have shared toge- 
 ther ; of all the trials, and all the 
 peaceful pleasures, you have jointly 
 known." 
 
 "I do. I do. I think of nothing 
 else." 
 
 " I would have you think of nothing 
 else to-night of nothing but those 
 things which will soften your heart, 
 
 dear friend, and open it to old affections 
 and old times. It is so that she would 
 speak to you herself, and in her name 
 it is that I speak now." 
 
 " You do well to speak softly," said 
 the old man. " We will not wake her. 
 I should be glad to see her eyes again, 
 and to ses her smile. There is a smile 
 upon her young face now, but it is 
 fixed and changeless. I would have 
 it come and go. That shall oe in 
 Heaven's good time. We will nos 
 wake her." 
 
 " Let us not talk of her in her 
 sleep, but as she used to be when you 
 were journeying together, far away 
 as she was at home, in the old house 
 from which you fled together as she 
 was, in the old cheerful time," said the 
 schoolmaster. 
 
 "She was always cheerful very 
 cheerful," cried the old man, looking 
 stedfastly at him. " There was ever 
 something mild and quiet about her, 
 I remember, from the first ; but she 
 was of a happy nature." 
 
 " We have heard you say," pursued 
 the schoolmaster, "that in this, and 
 in all goodness, she was like her 
 mother. You can think of, and 
 remember her ? " 
 
 He maintained his stedfast look, but 
 gave no answer. 
 
 " Or even one before her," said the 
 bachelor. " It is many years ago, and 
 affliction makes the time longer, but 
 you have not forgotten her whose 
 death contributed to make this child 
 so dear to you, even before you knew 
 her worth or could read her heart? 
 Say, that you could carry back your 
 thoughts to very distant days to the 
 time of your early Hie when, unlike 
 this fair flower, you did not pass your 
 youth alone. Say, that you could 
 remember, long ago, another child who 
 loved you dearly, you being but a 
 child yourself. Say, that you had a 
 brother, long forgotten, long unseen, 
 long separated from you, who now, at 
 last, in your utmost need came back 
 to comfort and console you" 
 
 " To be to you what you were once 
 to him," cried the younger, falh'ng on 
 his knee before him ; " to repay you!
 
 332 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 old affection, brother dear, by constant 
 care, solicitude, and love ; to be, at your 
 right hand, what he has never ceased 
 to be when oceans rolled between us ; 
 to call to witness his unchanging 
 truth and mindfulness of by-gone days, 
 whole years of desolation. Give me 
 but one word of recognition, brother 
 and never no never,inthe brightest 
 moment of our youngest days, when, 
 poor silly boys, we thought to pass our 
 lives together have we been half as 
 dear and precious to each other as we 
 shall be from this time hence ! " 
 
 The old man looked from face to 
 face, and his lips moved ; but no sound 
 came from them in reply. 
 
 "If we were knit together then," 
 pursued the younger brother, " what 
 will be the bond between us now ! Our 
 love and fellowship began in child- 
 hood, when life was all before us, and 
 will be resumed when we have proved 
 it, and are but children at the last. As 
 many restless spirits, who have hunted 
 fortune, fame, or pleasure through the 
 world, retire in their decline to where 
 they first drew breath, vainly seeking 
 to be children once again before they 
 die, so we, less fortunate than they in 
 early life, but happier in its closing 
 scenes, -will set up our rest again among 
 our boyish haunts, and going home 
 with no hope realised, that had its 
 growth in manhood carrying back 
 nothing that we brought away, but our 
 old yearnings to each other saving 
 no fragment from the wreck of life, 
 but that which first endeared it may 
 be, indeed, but children as at first. And 
 even," he added in an altered voice, 
 " even if what I dread to name has 
 come to pass even if that be so, or is 
 to be (which Heaven forbid and spare 
 us !) still, dear brother, we are not 
 apart, and have that comfort in our 
 great affliction." 
 
 By little and little, the old man had 
 drawn back towards the inner cham- 
 ber, while these words were spoken. 
 He pointed there, as he replied, with 
 trembling lips, 
 
 " You plot among you to wean my 
 heart from her. You never will do 
 that never while I have life. I have 
 
 no relative or friend but her I never 
 had I never will have. She is all in 
 all to me. It is too late to part us now." 
 
 Waving them off with his hand, and 
 calling softly to her as he went, he 
 stole into the room. They who were 
 left behind, drew close together, and 
 after a few whispered words not un- 
 broken by emotion, or easily uttered 
 followed him. They moved so gently, 
 that their footsteps made no noise ; 
 but there were sobs from among the 
 group, and sounds of grief and 
 mourning. 
 
 For she was dead. There, upon her 
 little bed, she lay at rest. The solemn 
 stillness was no marvel now. 
 
 She was dead. No sleep so beautiful 
 and calm, so free from trace of pain, 
 so fair to look upon. She seemed a 
 creature fresh from the hand of God, 
 and waiting for the breath of life ; not 
 one who had lived and suffered death. 
 
 Her couch was dressed with here 
 and there some winter berries and 
 green leaves, gathered in a spot she 
 had been used to favour. " When I 
 die, put near me something that has 
 loved the light, and had the sky above 
 it always." Those were her words. 
 
 She was dead. Dear, gentle, patient, 
 noble Nell, was dead. Her little bird 
 a poor slight thing the pressure of a 
 finger would have crushed was stir- 
 ring nimbly in its cage ; and the strong 
 heart of its child-mistress was mute 
 and motionless for ever. 
 
 Where were the traces of her early 
 cares, her sufferings, and fatigues ! 
 All gone. Sorrow was dead indeed in 
 her, but peace and perfect happiness 
 were born ; imaged in her tranquil 
 beauty and profound repose. 
 
 And still her former self lay there, 
 unaltered in this change. Yes. The 
 old fireside had smiled upon that same 
 sweet face ; it had passed, like a dream, 
 through haunts of misery and care ; at 
 the door of the poor schoolmaster on 
 the summer evening, before the fur- 
 nace fire upon the cold wet night, at 
 the still bedside of the dying boy, there 
 had been the same mild lovely look. 
 So shall we know the angels in their 
 majesty, after death.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 333 
 
 The old man held one languid arm 
 in his, and had the small hand tight 
 folded to his breast, for warmth. It 
 was the hand she had stretched out to 
 him with her last smile the hand that 
 had led him on, through all their wan- 
 derings. Ever and anon he pressed it 
 to his lips ; then hugged it to his breast 
 again, murmuring that it was warmer 
 now ; and, as he said it, he looked, in 
 agony, to those who stood around, as 
 if imploring them to help her. 
 
 She was dead, and past all help, or 
 need of it The ancient rooms she 
 had seemed to fill with life, even while 
 her own was waning fast the garden 
 
 she had tended the eyes she had 
 gladdened the noiseless haunts of 
 many a thoughtful hour the paths she 
 had trodden as it were but yesterday 
 could know her never more. 
 
 u It is not," said the schoolmaster, 
 as he bent down to kiss her on the 
 cheek, and gave his tears free vent, " it 
 is not on earth that Heaven's justice 
 ends. Think what earth is, compared 
 with the World to which her your.g 
 spirit has winged its early flight ; and 
 say, if one deliberate wish expressed in 
 solemn terms above this bed could call 
 her back to life, wliich of us would 
 utter it ! "
 
 334 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXII. 
 
 WHEN morning came, and they 
 could speak more calmly on the sub- 
 ject of their grief, they heard how her 
 life had closed. 
 
 She had been dead two days. They 
 were all about her at the time, know- 
 ing that the end was drawing on. She 
 died soon after daybreak. They had 
 read and talked to her in the earlier 
 portion of the night, but as the hours 
 crept on, she sunk to sleep. They 
 could tell, by what she faintly uttered 
 in her dreams, that they were of her 
 journeyings with the old man ; they 
 were of no painful scenes, but of people 
 who had helped and used them kindly, 
 for she often said " God bless you ! " 
 with great fervour. Waking, she never 
 wandered in her mind but once, and 
 that was of beautiful music which she 
 said was in the air. God knows. It 
 may have been. 
 
 Opening her eyes at last, from a 
 very quiet sleep, she begged that they 
 would kiss her once again. That done, 
 she turned to the old man with a 
 lovely smile upon her face such, they 
 said, as they had never seen, and 
 never could forget and clung with 
 both her arms about his neck. They 
 did not know that she was dead, at first. 
 
 She had spoken very often of the 
 two sisters, who, she said, were like 
 dear friends to her. She wished they 
 could be told how much she thought 
 about them, and how she had watched 
 them as they walked together, by the 
 river side at night. She would like to 
 see poor Kit, she had often said of late. 
 She wished there was somebody to 
 take her love to Kit. And, even then, 
 she never thought or spoke about him, 
 but with something of her old, clear, 
 merry laugh. 
 
 For the rest, she had never mur- 
 mured or complained ; but, with a 
 quiet mind, and manner quite unaltered 
 save that she every day became 
 
 more earnest and more grateful to 
 them faded like the light upon a 
 summer's evening. 
 
 The child who had been her little 
 friend came there, almost as soon as it, 
 was day, with an offering of dried 
 flowers which he begged them to lay 
 upon her breast. It was he who had 
 come to the window overnight and 
 spoken to the sexton, and they saw 
 in the snow traces of small feet, where 
 he had been lingering near the room 
 in which she lay, -before he went to 
 bed. He had a fancy, it seemed, that 
 they had left her there alone ; and 
 could not bear the thought. 
 
 He told them of his dream again, 
 and that it was of her being restored 
 to them, just as she used to be. He 
 begged hard to see her, saying that he 
 would be very quiet, and that they 
 need not fear his being alarmed, for 
 he had sat alone by his young brother 
 all day long, when he was dead, and 
 had felt glad to be so near him. They 
 let him have his wish ; and indeed he 
 kept his word, and was, in his childish 
 way, a lesson to them all. 
 
 Up to that time, the old man had 
 not spoken once except to her or 
 stirred from the bedside. But, when 
 he saw her little favourite, he was 
 moved as they had not seen him yet, 
 and made as though he would have 
 him come nearer. Then, pointing to 
 the bed, he burst into tears for the first 
 time, and they who stood by, knowing 
 that the sight of this child had done 
 him good, left them alone together. 
 
 Soothing, him with his artless talk 
 of her, the child persuaded him to 
 take some rest, to walk abroad, to do 
 almost as he desired him. And when 
 the day came on, which must remove 
 her in her earthly shape from earthly 
 eyes for ever, he led him away, that 
 he might not know when she was 
 taken from him.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 335 
 
 They were to gather fresh leaves 
 and berries for her bed. It was 
 Sunday a bright, clear, wintry after- 
 noon and as they traversed the 
 village street, those who were walking 
 in their path drew back to make way 
 for them, and gave them a softened 
 greeting. Some shook the old man 
 kindly by the hand, some stood un- 
 covered while he tottered by, and 
 many cried " God help him ! " as he 
 passed along. 
 
 " Neighbour ! " said the old man, 
 stopping at the cottage where his 
 young guide's mother dwelt, " how is 
 it that the folks are nearly all in black 
 to-day ? I have seen a mourning rib- 
 bon or a piece of crape on almost 
 every one." 
 
 She could not tell, the woman 
 said. 
 
 " Why, you yourself you wear the 
 colour too ! " he said. " Windows are 
 closed that never used to be by day. 
 What does this mean I " 
 
 Again the woman said she could 
 not tell. 
 
 " We must go back," said the old 
 man, hurriedly. " We must see what 
 this is." 
 
 " No, no," cried the child, detaining 
 him. " Remember what you promised. 
 Our way is to the old green lane, where 
 she and I so often were, and where 
 you found us, more than once, making 
 those garlands for her garden. Do not 
 turn back ! " 
 
 " Where is she now ? " said the old 
 man. Tell me that." 
 
 " Do you not know ? " returned the 
 child. " Did we not leave her, but 
 just now ? " 
 
 " True. True. It was her we left 
 was it ! " 
 
 He pressed his hand upon his brow, 
 looked vacantly round, and as if im- 
 pelled by a sudden thought, crossed 
 the road, and entered the sexton's 
 house. He and his deaf assistant were 
 sitting before the fire. Both rose up, 
 on seeing who it was. 
 
 The child made a hasty sign to 
 them with his hand. It was the action 
 of an instant, but that, and the old 
 man's look, were quite enough. 
 
 " Do you do you bury any one to- 
 day ? " he said, eagerly. 
 
 " No, no ! Who should we bury, 
 sir ? " returned the sexton. 
 
 " Aye, who indeed ! I say with you, 
 who indeed ?" 
 
 " It is a holiday with us, good sir ? " 
 returned the sexton mildly. " We 
 have no work to do to-day." 
 
 "Why then, I '11 go where you will," 
 said the old man, turning to the child. 
 " You 're sure of what you tell me ? 
 You would not deceive me ? I am. 
 changed, even in the little time since 
 you last saw me." 
 
 " Go thy ways with him, sir," cried 
 the sexton, "and Heaven be with 
 ye both ! " 
 
 " I am quite ready," said the old 
 man, meekly. " Come, boy, come " 
 and so submitted to be led away. 
 
 And now the bell the bell she had 
 so often heard, by night and day, and 
 listened to with solemn pleasure almost 
 as a living voice rung its remorseless 
 toll, for her, so young, so beautiful, so 
 good. Decrepit age, and vigorous life, 
 and blooming youth, and helpless 
 infancy, poured forth on crutches, in 
 the pride of strength and health, in 
 the full blush of promise, in the mere 
 dawn of life to gather round her 
 tomb. Old men were there, whose 
 eyes were dim and senses failing 
 grandmothers, who might have died 
 ten years ago, and still been old the 
 deaf, the blind, the lame, the palsied, 
 the living dead in many shapes and 
 forms, to see the closing of that early 
 grave. What was the death it would 
 shut in, to that which still could crawl 
 and creep above it ! 
 
 Along the crowded path they bore 
 her now ; pure as the newly-fallen snow 
 that covered it ; whose day on earth 
 had been as fleeting. Under the porch, 
 j where she had sat when Heaven in its 
 mercy brought her to that peaceful 
 spot, she passed again ; and the old 
 church received her in its quiet* 
 shade. 
 
 They carried her to one old nook, 
 where she had many and many a time 
 sat musing, and laid their burden softly 
 on the pavement. The light streamed
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 on it through the coloured window a 
 window, where the boughs of trees 
 were ever rustling in the summer, and 
 where the birds sang sweetly all day 
 long. With every breath of air that 
 stirred among those branches in the 
 sunshine, some trembling, changing 
 light, would fall upon her grave. 
 
 Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust 
 to dust ! Many a young hand dropped 
 in its little wreath, many a stifled sob 
 was heard. Some and they were not 
 a few knelt down. All were sincere 
 and truthful in their sorrow. 
 
 The service done, the mourners 
 stood apart, and the villagers closed 
 round to look into the grave before the 
 pavement-stone should be replaced. 
 One, called to mind how he had seen 
 her sitting on that very spot, and how 
 her book had fallen on her lap, and 
 she was gazing with a pensive face 
 upon the sky. Another, told how he 
 had wondered much that one so deli- 
 cate as she, should be so bold ; how 
 she had never feared to enter the 
 church alone at night, but had loved 
 to linger there when all was quiet, 
 and even to climb the tower stair, with 
 no more light than that of the moon 
 rays stealing through the loopholes in 
 the thick old wall. A whisper went 
 about among the oldest, that she 
 had seen and talked with angels ; and 
 when they called to mind how she had 
 looked, and spoken, and her early 
 death, some thought it might be so, 
 indeed. Thus, coming to the grave in 
 little knots, and glancing down, and 
 giving place to others, and falling off in 
 whispering groups of three or four, the 
 church was cleared in time, of all but 
 the sexton and the mourning friends. 
 
 They saw the vault covered, and the 
 stone fixed down. Then, when the 
 dusk of evening had come on, and not 
 a sound disturbed the sacred stillness 
 of the place when the bright moon 
 poured in her light on tomb and 
 monument, on pillar, wall, and arch, 
 and most of all (it seemed to them) 
 upon her quiet grave in that calm 
 time, when outward things and 
 inward thoughts teem with assurances 
 of immortality, and worldly hopes and 
 
 fears are humbled in the dust before 
 them then, with tranquil and sub- 
 missive hearts they turned away, and 
 left the child with God. 
 
 Oh ! it is hard to take to heart the 
 lesson that such deaths will teach, but 
 let no man reject it, for it is one that 
 all must learn, and is a mighty, 
 universal Truth. When Death strikes 
 down the innocent and young, for 
 every fragile form from which he lets 
 the panting spirit free, a hundred 
 virtues rise, in shapes of mercy, 
 charity, and love, to walk the world, 
 and bless it. Of every tear that 
 sorrowing mortals shed on such green 
 graves, some good is born, some gentler 
 nature comes. In the Destroyer's steps 
 there spring up bright creations that 
 defy his power, and his dark path 
 becomes a way of light to Heaven. 
 
 It was late when the old man came 
 home. The boy had led him to his 
 own dwelling, under some pretence, on 
 their way back ; and, rendered drowsy 
 by his long ramble and late want of 
 rest, he had sunk into a deep sleep 
 by the fireside. He was perfectly 
 exhausted, and they were careful not 
 to rouse him. The slumber held him 
 a long time, and when he at length 
 awoke the moon was shining. 
 
 The younger brother, uneasy at his 
 protracted absence, was watching at 
 the door for his coming, 'when he 
 appeared in the pathway with his little 
 guide. He advanced to .meet them, 
 and tenderly obliging the old man to 
 lean upon his arm, conducted him with 
 slow and trembling steps towards the 
 house. 
 
 He repaired to her chamber, straight. 
 Not finding what he had left there, he 
 returned with distracted looks to the 
 room in which they were assembled. 
 From that, he rushed into the school- 
 master's cottage, calling her name. 
 They followed close upon him, and 
 when he had vainly searched it, 
 brought him home. 
 
 With such persuasive words as pity 
 and affection could suggest, they pre- 
 vailed upon him to sit among them 
 and hear what they should tell him.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 337 
 
 Then, endeavouring by every little 
 artifice to prepare his mind for what 
 mnst come, and dwelling with many 
 fervent words upon the happy lot to 
 which she had been removed, they 
 told him, at last, the truth. The 
 moment it had passed their lips, he fell 
 down among them like a murdered man. 
 
 For many hours, they had little 
 hope of his surviving ; but grief is 
 strong, and he recovered. 
 
 If there be any who have never 
 known the blank that follows death 
 the weary void the sense of desola- 
 tion that will come upon the strongest 
 minds, when something familiar and 
 beloved is missed at every turn the 
 connexion between inanimate and 
 senseless things, and the object of 
 recollection, when every household god 
 becomes a monument and every room 
 a grave if there be any who have 
 not known this, and proved it by their 
 own experience, they can never faintly 
 guess, how, for many days, the old 
 man pined and moped away the time, 
 and wandered here and there as seek- 
 ing something, and had no comfort. 
 
 Whatever power of thought or 
 memory he retained, was all bound up 
 in her. He never understood, or 
 seemed to care to understand, about 
 his brother. To every endearment 
 and attention he continued listless. If 
 they spoke to him on this, or any other 
 theme save one he would hear them 
 patiently for a while, then turn away, 
 and go on seeking as before. 
 
 On that one theme, which was in his 
 and all their minds, it was impossible 
 to touch. Dead ! He could not hear 
 or bear the word. The slightest hint 
 of it would throw him into a paroxysm, 
 like that he had had when it was first 
 spoken. In what hope he lived, no 
 man could tell ; but, that he had some 
 hope of finding her again some faint 
 and shadowy hope, deferred from day 
 to day, and making him from day to 
 day more sick and sore at heart was 
 plain to all. 
 
 They bethought them of a removal 
 from the scene of this last sorrow ; of 
 trying whether change of place would 
 rouse or cheer him. His brother 
 
 No. 85. 
 
 sought the advice of those who were 
 accounted skilful in such matters, and 
 they came and saw him. Some of the 
 number staid upon the spot, conversed 
 with him when he would converse, and 
 watched him as he wandered up and 
 down, alone and silent. Move him 
 where they might, they said, he would 
 ever seek to get back there. His 
 mind would run upon that spot. If 
 they confined him closely, and kept a 
 strict guard upon him, they might 
 hold him prisoner, but if he could by 
 any means escape, he would surely 
 wander back to that place, or die upon 
 the road. 
 
 The boy, to whom he had submitted 
 at first, had no longer any influence 
 with him. At times he would suffer 
 the child to walk by his side, or would 
 even take such notice of his presence 
 as giving him his hand, or would stop 
 to kiss his cheek, or pat him on the 
 head. At other tunes, he would entreat 
 bun not unkindly to be gone, and 
 would not brook him near. But, 
 whether alone, or with this pliant 
 friend, or with those who would have 
 given him, at any cost or sacrifice, 
 some consolation or some peace of 
 mind, if happily the means could have 
 been devised ; he was at all tunes the 
 same with no love or care for any- 
 thing in life a broken-hearted man. 
 
 At length, they found, one day, that 
 he had risen early, and, with his knap- 
 sack on his back, his staff in hand, her 
 own straw hat, and little basket full of 
 such things as she had been used to 
 carry, was gone. As they were 
 making ready to pursue him far and 
 wide, a frightened schoolboy came who 
 had seen him, but a moment before, 
 sitting in the church upon her grave, 
 he said. 
 
 They hastened there, and going 
 softly to the door, espied him in the 
 attitude of one who waited patiently. 
 They did not disturb bun then, but 
 kept a watch upon him all that day. 
 When it grew quite dark, he rose and 
 returned home, and went to bed, mur- 
 muring to himself, "She will come 
 to-morrow ! " 
 
 Upon the morrow he was there 
 
 z 22
 
 338 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 again from sunrise until night ; and 
 still at nighf he laid him down to rest, 
 and murmured, "She will come to- 
 morrow ! " 
 
 And thenceforth, every day, and all 
 day long, he waited at her grave, for 
 her. How many pictures of new 
 journeys over pleasant country, of 
 resting-places under the free broad 
 sky, of rambles in the fields and woods, 
 and paths not often trodden how many 
 tones of that one well-remembered 
 voice how many glimpses of the 
 form, the fluttering dress, the hair that 
 waved so gaily in the wind how many 
 visions of what had been, and what he 
 hoped was yet to be rose up before 
 him, in the old, dull, silent church ! 
 He never told them what he thought, 
 
 or where he went. He would sit with 
 them at night, pondering with a secret 
 satisfaction, they couM see, upon the 
 flight that he and she would take 
 before night came again ; and still 
 they would hear him whisper in his 
 prayers, " Lord ! Let her come to- 
 morrow ! " 
 
 The last time was on a genial day 
 in spring. He did not return at the 
 usual hour, and they went to seek him. 
 He was lying dead upon the stone. 
 
 They laid him by tle side of her 
 whom he had loved so well ; and, in 
 the church where they had often 
 prayed, and mused, and lingered hand 
 in hand, the child and the old man 
 slept together.
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 339 
 
 CHAPTER THE LAST. 
 
 THE magic reel, winch, rolling 011 
 before, has led the chronicler thus far, 
 now slackens in its pace, and stops. 
 It lies before the goal ; the pursuit is 
 at an end. 
 
 It remains but to dismiss the lea'ders 
 of the little crowd who have borne us 
 company upon the road, and so to 
 close the journey. 
 
 Foremost among them, smooth 
 Sampson Brass and Sally, arm in arm, 
 claim our polite attention. 
 
 Mr. Sampson, then, being detained, 
 as already has been shown, by the jus- 
 tice upon whom he called, and being 
 so strongly pressed to protract his stay 
 that he could by no means refuse, re- 
 mained under his protection for a con- 
 siderable time, during which the great 
 attention of his entertainer kept him so 
 extremely close, that he was quite lost 
 to socifety, and never even went abroad 
 for exercise saving into a small paved 
 yard. So well, indeed, was his modest 
 and retiring temper understood by 
 those with whom he had to deal, and 
 so jealous were they of his absence, 
 that they required a kind of friendly 
 bond to be entered into by two sub- 
 stantial housekeepers, in the sum of 
 fifteen hundred pounds a-piece, before 
 they would suffer him to quit their 
 hospitable roof doubting it appeared, 
 that he would return, if once let loose, 
 on any other terms. Mr. Brass, struck 
 with the humour of this jest, and car- 
 rying out its spirit to the utmost, 
 sought from his wide connexion a pair 
 of friends whose joint possessions fell 
 some halfpence short of fifteen pence, 
 and proffered them .is bail for that 
 was the merry word agreed upon on 
 both sides. These gentlemen being 
 rejected after twenty-four hours' 
 pleasantry, Mr. Brass consented to 
 remain, and did remain, until a club of 
 choice spirits called a Grand Jury 
 (who were in the joke) summoned him 
 
 to a trial before twelve other wags for 
 perjury and fraud, who in their turn 
 found him guilty with a most facetious 
 joy,> nay, the very populace entered 
 into the whim, and when Mr. Brass was 
 moving in a hackney-coach towards the 
 building where these wags assembled, 
 saluted him with rotten eggs and car- 
 cases of kittens, and feigned to wish to 
 tear him into shreds, which greatly 
 increased the comicality of the thing, 
 and made him relish it the more, no 
 doubt. 
 
 To work this sportive vein still 
 further, Mr. Brass, by his counsel, 
 moved in arrest of judgment that he 
 had been led to criminate himself, by 
 assurances of safety and promises of 
 pardon, and claimed the leniency which 
 the law extends to such confiding 
 natures as are thus deluded. After 
 solemn argument, this point (with 
 others of a technical nature, whose 
 humorous extravagance it would be 
 difficult to exaggerate) was referred 
 to the judges for their decision, Samp- 
 son being meantime removed to his 
 former quarters. Finally, some of 
 the points were given in Sampson's 
 favour, and some against him ; and 
 the upshot was, that, instead of being 
 desired to travel for a time in foreign 
 parts, he was permitted to grace the 
 mother country under certain insig- 
 nificant restrictions. 
 
 These were, that he should, for a 
 term of years, reside in a spacious 
 mansion where several other gentle- 
 men were lodged and boarded at the 
 public charge, who went clad in a 
 sober uniform of grey turned up 
 with yellow, had their hair cut ex- 
 tremely short, and chiefly lived on 
 gruel and light soup. It was also 
 required of him that he should partake 
 of their exercise of constantly ascend- 
 ing an endless flight of stairs; and, 
 lest his legs, unused to such exertion,
 
 840 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 should be weakened by it, that he 
 should wear upon one ankle an amulet 
 or charm of iron. These conditions 
 being arranged, he was removed one 
 evening to his new abode, and enjoyed, 
 in common with nine other gentlemen, 
 and two ladies, the privilege of being 
 taken to his place of retirement in one 
 of Royalty's own carriages. 
 
 Over and above these trifling penal- 
 ties, his name was erased and blotted 
 out from the roll of attorneys ; which 
 erasure has been always held in these 
 latter times to be a great degradation 
 and reproach, and to imply the com- 
 mission of some amazing villany as 
 indeed would seem to be the case, when 
 so many worthless names remain 
 among its better records, unmolested. 
 
 Of Sally Brass, conflicting rumours 
 went abroad. Some said with confi- 
 dence that she had gone down to the 
 docks in male attire, and had become 
 a female sailor ; others darkly whis- 
 pered that she had enlisted as a private 
 in the second regiment of Foot Guards, 
 and had been seen in uniform, and on 
 duty, to wit, leaning on her musket and 
 looking out of a sentry-box in St. 
 James's Park, one evening. There 
 were many such whispers as these in 
 circulation ; but the truth appears to 
 be that, after a lapse of some five years 
 (during which there is no direct evi- 
 dence of her having been seen at all), 
 two wretched people were more than 
 once observed to crawl at dusk from 
 the inmost recesses of St. Giles's, and 
 to take their way along the streets, 
 with shuffling steps and cowering 
 shivering forms, looking into the roads 
 and kennels as they went in search 
 of refuse food or disregarded offal. 
 These forms were never beheld but in 
 those nights of cold and gloom, when 
 the terrible spectres, who lie at all 
 other times in the obscene hiding- 
 places of London, in archways, dark 
 vaults and cellars, venture to creep 
 into the streets ; the embodied spirits 
 of Disease, and Vice, and Famine. It 
 was whispered by those who should 
 have known, that these were Sampson 
 and his sister Sally ; and to this day, 
 it is said, they sometimes pass, on bad 
 
 nights, in the same loathsome guise, 
 close at the elbow of the shrinking 
 passenger. 
 
 The body of Quilp being found 
 though not until some days had elapsed 
 an inquest was held on it near the 
 spot where it had been washed ashore. 
 The general supposition was that he 
 had committed suicide, 'and, this ap- 
 pearing to be favoured by all the cir- 
 cumstances of his death, the verdict 
 was to that effect. He was left to be 
 buried with a stake through his heart 
 in the centre of four lonely roads. 
 
 It was rumoured afterwards that 
 this horrible and barbarous ceremony 
 had been dispensed with, and that the 
 remains had been secretly given up to 
 Tom Scott. But even, here, opinion 
 was divided ; for some said Tom had 
 dug them up at midnight, and carried 
 them to a place indicated to him by 
 the widow. It is probable that both 
 these stories may have had their origin 
 in the simple fact of Tom's shedding 
 tears upon the inquest which he cer- 
 tainly did, extraordinary as it may 
 appear. He manifested, besides, a 
 strong desire to assault the jury ; and 
 being restrained and conducted out of 
 court, darkened its only window by 
 standing on his head upon the sill, 
 until he was dexterously tilted upon 
 his feet again by a cautious beadle. 
 
 Being cast upon the world by his 
 master's death, he determined to go 
 through it upon his head and hands, 
 and accordingly began to tumble for 
 his bread. Finding, however, his Eng- 
 lish birth an insurmoun table obstacle 
 to his advancement in this pursuit 
 (notwithstanding that his art was in 
 high repute and favour), he assumed 
 the name of an Italian image lad, with 
 whom he had become acquainted ; and 
 afterwards tumbled with extraordinary 
 success, and to overflowing audiences. 
 
 Little Mrs. Quilp never quite for- 
 gave herself the one deceit that lay so 
 heavy on her conscience, and never 
 spoke or thought of it but with bitter 
 tears. Her husband had no relations, 
 and she was rich. He had made no 
 will, or she would probably have been 
 poor. Having married the first time
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 341 
 
 at her mother's instigation, she con- 
 sulted in her second choice nobody but 
 herself. It fell upon a smart young 
 fellow enough ; and as he made it a 
 preliminary condition that Mrs. Jiniwin 
 should be thenceforth an out-pensioner, 
 they lived together after marriage with 
 no more than the average amount of 
 quarrelling, and led a merry life upon 
 the dead dwarf 's money. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Garland, and Mr. 
 Abel, went out as usual (except that 
 there was a change hi their household, 
 as will be seen presently), and in due 
 tune the latter went into partnership 
 with his friend the notary, on which 
 occasion there was a dinner, and a ball, 
 and great extent of dissipation. Unto 
 this ball there happened to be invited 
 the most bashful young lady that was 
 ever seen, with whom Mr. Abel hap- 
 pened to fall hi love. How it happened, 
 or how they found it out, or which of 
 them first communicated the discovery 
 to the other, nobody knows. But, cer- 
 tain it is that in course of time they 
 were married ; and equally certain it 
 is that they were the happiest of the 
 happy ; and no less certain it is that 
 they deserved to be so. And it is 
 pleasant to write down that they reared 
 a family ; because any propagation of 
 goodness and benevolence is no small 
 addition to the aristocracy of nature, 
 and no small subject of rejoicing for 
 mankind at large. 
 
 The pony preserved his character 
 for independence and principle down 
 to the last moment of his life ; which 
 was an unusually long one, and caused 
 him to be looked upon, indeed, as the 
 very Old Parr of ponies. He often 
 went to and fro with the little phaeton 
 between Mr. Garland's and his son's, 
 and, as the old people and the young 
 were frequently together, had a stable 
 of his own at the new establishment, 
 into which he would walk of himself 
 with surprising dignity. He conde- 
 scended to play with the children, as 
 they grew old enough to cultivate his 
 friendship, and would run up and down 
 the little paddock with them like a 
 god ; but though he relaxed so far, and 
 allowed them such small freedoms as 
 
 caresses, or even to look at his shoes 
 or hang on by his tail, he never per- 
 mitted any one among them to mount 
 his back or drive him ; thus showing 
 that even their familiarity must have 
 its limits, and that there were points 
 between them far too serious for 
 trifling. 
 
 He was not unsusceptible of warm 
 attachments in his later life, for when 
 the good bachelor came to live with 
 Mr. Garland upon the clergyman's 
 decease, he conceived a great friend- 
 ship for hun, and amiably submitted to 
 be driven by his hands without the 
 least resistance. He did no work for 
 two or three years before he died, but 
 lived hi clover ; and his last act (like 
 a choleric old gentleman) was to kick 
 his doctor. 
 
 Mr. Swiveller, recovering very 
 slowly from his illness, and entering 
 into the receipt of his annuity, bought 
 for the Marchioness a handsome stock 
 of clothes, and put her to school forth- 
 with, in redemption of the vow he had 
 made upon his fevered bed. After 
 casting about for some time for a name 
 which should be worthy of her, he 
 decided in favour of Sophronia Sphynx, 
 as being euphonious and genteel, and 
 furthermore indicative of mystery. 
 Under this title the Marchioness re- 
 paired, hi tears, to the school of his 
 selection, from which, as she soon 
 distanced all competitors, she was 
 removed before the lapse of many 
 quarters to one of a higher grade. It 
 is but bare justice to Mr. Swiveller to 
 say, that, although the expenses of her 
 education kept hun hi straitened cir- 
 cumstances for half a dozen years, he 
 never slackened in his zeal, an J always 
 held himself sufficiently repaid by the 
 accounts he heard (with great gravity) 
 of her advancement, on his monthly 
 visits to the governess, who looked 
 upon hun as a literary gentleman of 
 eccentric habits, and of a most prodi- 
 gious talent in quotation. 
 
 In a word, Mr. Swiveller kept the 
 Marchioness at this establishment until 
 she was, at a moderate guess, full 
 nineteen years of age good-looking, 
 clever, and good-humoured ; when he
 
 342 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 began to consider seriously what was 
 to be done next. On one of his perio- 
 dical visits, while he was revolving 
 this question in his mind, the Mar- 
 chioness came down to him, alone, 
 looking more smiling and more fresh 
 than ever. Then, it occurred to him, 
 but not for the first time, that if she 
 would marry him, how comfortable 
 they might be ! So Richard asked 
 her ; whatever she said, it wasn't No ; 
 and they were married in good earnest 
 that day week, which gave Mr. Swi- 
 veller frequent occasion to remark at 
 divers subsequent periods that there 
 had been a young lady saving up for 
 him after all. 
 
 A little cottage at Hampstead being 
 to let, which had 1 in its garden a 
 smoking-box, the envy of the civilised 
 world, they agreed to become its 
 tenants ; and, when the honey-moon 
 was over, entered upon its occupation. 
 To this retreat Mr. Chuckster repaired 
 regularly every Sunday to spend the 
 day usually beginning with break- 
 fast and here he was the great pur- 
 veyor of general news and fashionable 
 intelligence. For some years he con- 
 tinued a deadly foe tp Kit, protesting 
 that he had a better opinion of him 
 when he was supposed to have stolen 
 the five-pound note, than when he was 
 shown to be perfectly free of the 
 crime ; inasmuch as his guilt would 
 have had in it something daring and 
 bold, whereas his innocence was but 
 another proof of a sneaking and crafty 
 disposition. By slow degrees, how- 
 ever, he was reconciled to him in the 
 end ; and even went so far as to honour 
 him with his patronage, as one who 
 had in some measure reformed, and 
 was therefore to be forgiven. But he 
 never forgot or pardoned that circum- 
 stance of the shilling ; holding that if 
 he had come back to get another he 
 would have done well enough, but that 
 his returning to work out the former 
 gift was a stain upon his moral cha- 
 racter which no penitence or contrition 
 could ever wash away. 
 
 Mr. Swiveller, having always been 
 in some measure of a philosophic and 
 reflective turn, grew immensely con- 
 
 templative, at times, in the smoking- 
 box, and was accustomed at such 
 periods to debate in his own mind the 
 mysterious question of Sophronia'e 
 parentage. Sophronia herself sup- 
 posed she was an orphan ; but Mr. 
 Swiveller, putting various slight cir- 
 cumstances together, often thought 
 Miss Brass must know better than 
 that ; and, having heard from his wife 
 of her strange interview with Q,uilp, 
 entertained sundry misgivings whether 
 that person, in his lifetime, might not 
 also have been able to solve the riddle, 
 had he chosen. These speculations, 
 however, gave him no uneasiness ; for 
 Sophronia was ever a most cheerful, 
 affectionate, and provident wife to 
 him ; and Dick (excepting for an oc- 
 casional outbreak with Mr. Chuckster, 
 which she had the good sense rather 
 to encourage than oppose) was to her 
 an attached and domesticated husband. 
 And they played many hundred thou- 
 sand games of cribbage together. And 
 let it be added, to Dick's honour, that, 
 though we have called her Sophronia, 
 he called her the Marchioness from 
 first to last ; and that upon every anni- 
 versary of the day on which he found 
 her in his sick room, Mr. Chuckster 
 came to dinner, and there was great 
 glorification. 
 
 The gamblers, Isaac List and Jowl, 
 with their trusty confederate Mr. 
 James Groves of unimpeachable me- 
 mory, pursued their course with vary- 
 ing success, until the failure of a 
 spirited enterprise in the way of their 
 profession, dispersed them in different 
 directions, and caused their career to 
 receive a sudden check from the long 
 and strong arm of the law. This de- 
 feat had its origin in the untoward 
 detection of a new associate young 
 Frederick Trent who thus became 
 the unconscious instrument of their 
 punishment and his own. 
 
 For the young man himself, he 
 rioted abroad for a brief term, living 
 by his wits which means by the abuse 
 of every faculty that worthily employed 
 raises man above the beasts, and so 
 degraded, sinks him far below them. 
 It was not long before his body was
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 343 
 
 recognised by a stranger, who chanced 
 to visit that hospital in Paris where 
 the drowned are laid out to be owned j 
 despite the bruises and disfigurements 
 which were said to have been occa- 
 sioned by some previous scuffle. But 
 the stranger kept his own counsel un- 
 til he returned home, and it was never 
 claimed or cared for. 
 
 The young brother, or the single 
 gentleman, for that designation is more 
 familiar, would have drawn the poor 
 schoolmaster from his lone retreat, and 
 made him his companion and friend. 
 But the humble village teacher was 
 timid of venturing into the noisy world, 
 and had become fond of his dwelling 
 in the old churchyard. Calmly happy 
 in his school, and in the spot, and hi 
 the attachment of Her little mourner, 
 he pursued his quiet course in peace ; 
 and was, through the righteous grati- 
 tude of his friend let this brief men- 
 tion suffice for that a poor school- 
 master no more. 
 
 That friend single gentleman, or 
 younger brother, which you will had 
 at his heart a heavy sorrow ; but it 
 bred in him no misanthropy or mo- 
 nastic gloom. He went forth into the 
 world, a lover of his kind. For a loni^ 
 long time, it was his chief delight to 
 travel in the steps of the old man and 
 the child, (so far as he could trace 
 them from her last narrative), to halt 
 where they had halted, sympathise 
 where they had suffered, and rejoice 
 where they had been made glad. 
 Those who had been kind to them, 
 did not escape his search. The sisters 
 at the school they who were her 
 friends, because themselves so friend- 
 lost Mrs. Jarley of the wax-work, 
 Codlin, Short he found them all ; and 
 trust me, the man who fed the furnace 
 fire was not forgotten. 
 
 Kit's story having got abroad, raised 
 him up a host of friends, and many 
 offers of provision for his future life. 
 He had no idea at first of ever quit- 
 ting Mr. Garland's service ; but, after 
 serious remonstrance and advice from 
 that gentleman, began to contemplate 
 the possibility of such a change being 
 brought about in time. A good post 
 
 was procured for him, with a rapidity 
 which took away his breath, by some 
 of the gentlemen who had believed 
 him guilty of the offence laid to his 
 charge, and who had acted upon that 
 belief. Through the same kind agency, 
 his mother was secured from want, 
 and made quite happy. Thus, as Kit 
 often said, his great misfortune turned 
 out to be the source of all his subse- 
 quent prosperity. 
 
 Did Kit live a single man all his 
 days, or did he marry 1 Of course he 
 married, and who should be his wife 
 but Barbara 1 And the best of it was, 
 he married so soon that little Jacob 
 was an uncle, before the calves of his 
 legs, already mentioned in this history, 
 had ever been encased in broadcloth 
 pantaloons, though that was not quite 
 the best either, for of necessity the 
 baby was an uncle too. The delight 
 of Kit's mother and of Barbara's 
 mother upon the great occasion is past 
 all telling ; finding they agreed so well 
 on that, and on all other subjects, they 
 took up their abode together, and were 
 a most harmonious pair of friends from 
 that time forth. And hadn't Astley's 
 cause to bless itself for their all going 
 together once a quarter to the pit 
 and didn't Kit's mother always say, 
 when they painted the outside, that 
 Kit's last treat had helped to that, and 
 wonder what the manager would feel 
 if he but knew it as they passed his 
 house ! 
 
 When Kit had children six and 
 seven years old, there was a Barbara 
 among them, and a pretty Barbara 
 she was. Nor was there wanting an 
 exact fac-simile and copy of little 
 Jacob as he appeared in those remote 
 times when they taught him what 
 oysters meant. Of course there was 
 an Abel, own godson to the Mr. Gar- 
 land of that name ; and there was a 
 Dick, whom Mr. Swiveller did espe- 
 cially favour. The little group would 
 often gather round him of a night and 
 beg him to tell again that story of good 
 Miss Nell who died. This, Kit would 
 do ; and when they cried to hear it, 
 wishing it longer too, he would teach 
 them how she had gone to Heaven, as
 
 344 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 all good people did ; and how, if they 
 were good like her, they might hope 
 to be there too, one day, and to see 
 and know her as he had done when he 
 was quite a boy. Then, he would re- 
 late to them how needy he used to be, 
 and how she had taught him what' he 
 was otherwise too poor to learn, and 
 how the old man had been used to say 
 she always laughs at Kit ;" at which 
 they would brush away their tears, 
 and laugh themselves to think that she 
 had done so, and be again quite merry. 
 He sometimes took them to the 
 street where she had lived ; but new 
 
 improvements had altered it so much, 
 it was not like the same. The old 
 house had been long ago pulled down, 
 and a fine broad road was in its place. 
 At first, he would draw with his stick 
 a square upon the ground to show 
 them where it used to stand. But, he 
 soon became uncertain of the spot, and 
 could only say it was thereabouts, he 
 thought, and that these alterations 
 were confusing. 
 
 Such are the changes which a few 
 years bring about, and so do things 
 pass away, like a tale that is told ! 
 
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