第 20 页

Office, and once more sent up his card to Barnacle junior by a messenger

who took it very ill indeed that he should come back again, and who was

eating mashed potatoes and gravy behind a partition by the hall fire.

He was readmitted to the presence of Barnacle junior, and found that

young gentleman singeing his knees now, and gaping his weary way on

to four o'clock. 'I say. Look here. You stick to us in a devil of a

manner,' Said Barnacle junior, looking over his shoulder.

'I want to know--'

'Look here. Upon my soul you mustn't come into the place saying you

want to know, you know,' remonstrated Barnacle junior, turning about and

putting up the eye-glass.

'I want to know,' said Arthur Clennam, who had made up his mind to

persistence in one short form of words, 'the precise nature of the claim

of the Crown against a prisoner for debt, named Dorrit.'

'I say. Look here. You really are going it at a great pace, you know.

Egad, you haven't got an appointment,' said Barnacle junior, as if the

thing were growing serious.

'I want to know,' said Arthur, and repeated his case.

Barnacle junior stared at him until his eye-glass fell out, and then

put it in again and stared at him until it fell out again. 'You have

no right to come this sort of move,' he then observed with the greatest

weakness. 'Look here. What do you mean? You told me you didn't know

whether it was public business or not.'

'I have now ascertained that it is public business,' returned the

suitor, 'and I want to know'--and again repeated his monotonous inquiry.

Its effect upon young Barnacle was to make him repeat in a defenceless

way, 'Look here! Upon my SOUL you mustn't come into the place saying you

want to know, you know!' The effect of that upon Arthur Clennam was

to make him repeat his inquiry in exactly the same words and tone

as before. The effect of that upon young Barnacle was to make him a

wonderful spectacle of failure and helplessness.

'Well, I tell you what. Look here. You had better try the Secretarial

Department,' he said at last, sidling to the bell and ringing it.

'Jenkinson,' to the mashed potatoes messenger, 'Mr Wobbler!'

Arthur Clennam, who now felt that he had devoted himself to the storming

of the Circumlocution Office, and must go through with it, accompanied

the messenger to another floor of the building, where that functionary

pointed out Mr Wobbler's room. He entered that apartment, and found two

gentlemen sitting face to face at a large and easy desk, one of whom was

polishing a gun-barrel on his pocket-handkerchief, while the other was

spreading marmalade on bread with a paper-knife.

'Mr Wobbler?' inquired the suitor.

Both gentlemen glanced at him, and seemed surprised at his assurance.

'So he went,' said the gentleman with the gun-barrel, who was an

extremely deliberate speaker, 'down to his cousin's place, and took the

Dog with him by rail. Inestimable Dog. Flew at the porter fellow when he

was put into the dog-box, and flew at the guard when he was taken out.

He got half-a-dozen fellows into a Barn, and a good supply of Rats, and

timed the Dog. Finding the Dog able to do it immensely, made the match,

and heavily backed the Dog. When the match came off, some devil of

a fellow was bought over, Sir, Dog was made drunk, Dog's master was

cleaned out.'

'Mr Wobbler?' inquired the suitor.

The gentleman who was spreading the marmalade returned, without looking

up from that occupation, 'What did he call the Dog?'

'Called him Lovely,' said the other gentleman. 'Said the Dog was the

perfect picture of the old aunt from whom he had expectations. Found him

particularly like her when hocussed.'

'Mr Wobbler?' said the suitor.

Both gentlemen laughed for some time. The gentleman with the gun-barrel,

considering it, on inspection, in a satisfactory state, referred it to

the other; receiving confirmation of his views, he fitted it into its

place in the case before him, and took out the stock and polished that,

softly whistling.

'Mr Wobbler?' said the suitor.

'What's the matter?' then said Mr Wobbler, with his mouth full.

'I want to know--' and Arthur Clennam again mechanically set forth what

he wanted to know.

'Can't inform you,' observed Mr Wobbler, apparently to his lunch. 'Never

heard of it. Nothing at all to do with it. Better try Mr Clive, second

door on the left in the next passage.'

'Perhaps he will give me the same answer.'

'Very likely. Don't know anything about it,' said Mr Wobbler.

The suitor turned away and had left the room, when the gentleman with

the gun called out 'Mister! Hallo!'

He looked in again.

'Shut the door after you. You're letting in a devil of a draught here!'

A few steps brought him to the second door on the left in the next

passage. In that room he found three gentlemen; number one doing nothing

particular, number two doing nothing particular, number three doing

nothing particular. They seemed, however, to be more directly concerned

than the others had been in the effective execution of the great

principle of the office, as there was an awful inner apartment with a

double door, in which the Circumlocution Sages appeared to be assembled

in council, and out of which there was an imposing coming of papers,

and into which there was an imposing going of papers, almost constantly;

wherein another gentleman, number four, was the active instrument.

'I want to know,' said Arthur Clennam,--and again stated his case in the

same barrel-organ way. As number one referred him to number two, and

as number two referred him to number three, he had occasion to state

it three times before they all referred him to number four, to whom he

stated it again.

Number four was a vivacious, well-looking, well-dressed, agreeable

young fellow--he was a Barnacle, but on the more sprightly side of

the family--and he said in an easy way, 'Oh! you had better not bother

yourself about it, I think.'

'Not bother myself about it?'

'No! I recommend you not to bother yourself about it.'

This was such a new point of view that Arthur Clennam found himself at a

loss how to receive it.

'You can if you like. I can give you plenty of forms to fill up. Lots of

'em here. You can have a dozen if you like. But you'll never go on with

it,' said number four.

'Would it be such hopeless work? Excuse me; I am a stranger in England.'

'I don't say it would be hopeless,' returned number four, with a frank

smile. 'I don't express an opinion about that; I only express an opinion

about you. I don't think you'd go on with it. However, of course, you

can do as you like. I suppose there was a failure in the performance of

a contract, or something of that kind, was there?'

'I really don't know.'

'Well! That you can find out. Then you'll find out what Department the

contract was in, and then you'll find out all about it there.'

'I beg your pardon. How shall I find out?'

'Why, you'll--you'll ask till they tell you. Then you'll memorialise

that Department (according to regular forms which you'll find out) for

leave to memorialise this Department. If you get it (which you may after

a time), that memorial must be entered in that Department, sent to

be registered in this Department, sent back to be signed by that

Department, sent back to be countersigned by this Department, and then

it will begin to be regularly before that Department. You'll find out

when the business passes through each of these stages by asking at both

Departments till they tell you.'

'But surely this is not the way to do the business,' Arthur Clennam

could not help saying.

This airy young Barnacle was quite entertained by his simplicity in

supposing for a moment that it was. This light in hand young Barnacle

knew perfectly that it was not. This touch and go young Barnacle had

'got up' the Department in a private secretaryship, that he might

be ready for any little bit of fat that came to hand; and he fully

understood the Department to be a politico-diplomatic hocus pocus piece

of machinery for the assistance of the nobs in keeping off the

snobs. This dashing young Barnacle, in a word, was likely to become a

statesman, and to make a figure.

'When the business is regularly before that Department, whatever it is,'

pursued this bright young Barnacle, 'then you can watch it from time

to time through that Department. When it comes regularly before this

Department, then you must watch it from time to time through this

Department. We shall have to refer it right and left; and when we refer

it anywhere, then you'll have to look it up. When it comes back to us

at any time, then you had better look US up. When it sticks anywhere,

you'll have to try to give it a jog. When you write to another

Department about it, and then to this Department about it, and don't

hear anything satisfactory about it, why then you had better--keep on

writing.'

Arthur Clennam looked very doubtful indeed. 'But I am obliged to you at

any rate,' said he, 'for your politeness.'

'Not at all,' replied this engaging young Barnacle. 'Try the thing, and

see how you like it. It will be in your power to give it up at any time,

if you don't like it. You had better take a lot of forms away with you.

Give him a lot of forms!' With which instruction to number two, this

sparkling young Barnacle took a fresh handful of papers from numbers one

and three, and carried them into the sanctuary to offer to the presiding

Idol of the Circumlocution Office.

Arthur Clennam put his forms in his pocket gloomily enough, and went

his way down the long stone passage and the long stone staircase. He had

come to the swing doors leading into the street, and was waiting, not

over patiently, for two people who were between him and them to pass out

and let him follow, when the voice of one of them struck familiarly on

his ear. He looked at the speaker and recognised Mr Meagles. Mr Meagles

was very red in the face--redder than travel could have made him--and

collaring a short man who was with him, said, 'come out, you rascal,

come Out!'

It was such an unexpected hearing, and it was also such an unexpected

sight to see Mr Meagles burst the swing doors open, and emerge into the

street with the short man, who was of an unoffending appearance, that

Clennam stood still for the moment exchanging looks of surprise with the

porter. He followed, however, quickly; and saw Mr Meagles going down

the street with his enemy at his side. He soon came up with his old

travelling companion, and touched him on the back. The choleric face

which Mr Meagles turned upon him smoothed when he saw who it was, and he

put out his friendly hand.

'How are you?' said Mr Meagles. 'How d'ye do? I have only just come over

from abroad. I am glad to see you.'

'And I am rejoiced to see you.'

'Thank'ee. Thank'ee!'

'Mrs Meagles and your daughter--?'

'Are as well as possible,' said Mr Meagles. 'I only wish you had come

upon me in a more prepossessing condition as to coolness.'

Though it was anything but a hot day, Mr Meagles was in a heated state

that attracted the attention of the passersby; more particularly as

he leaned his back against a railing, took off his hat and cravat, and

heartily rubbed his steaming head and face, and his reddened ears and

neck, without the least regard for public opinion.

'Whew!' said Mr Meagles, dressing again. 'That's comfortable. Now I am

cooler.'

'You have been ruffled, Mr Meagles. What is the matter?'

'Wait a bit, and I'll tell you. Have you leisure for a turn in the

Park?'

'As much as you please.'

'Come along then. Ah! you may well look at him.' He happened to have

turned his eyes towards the offender whom Mr Meagles had so angrily

collared. 'He's something to look at, that fellow is.'

He was not much to look at, either in point of size or in point of

dress; being merely a short, square, practical looking man, whose hair

had turned grey, and in whose face and forehead there were deep lines of

cogitation, which looked as though they were carved in hard wood. He

was dressed in decent black, a little rusty, and had the appearance of

a sagacious master in some handicraft. He had a spectacle-case in his

hand, which he turned over and over while he was thus in question,

with a certain free use of the thumb that is never seen but in a hand

accustomed to tools.

'You keep with us,' said Mr Meagles, in a threatening kind of Way, 'and

I'll introduce you presently. Now then!'

Clennam wondered within himself, as they took the nearest way to the

Park, what this unknown (who complied in the gentlest manner) could have

been doing. His appearance did not at all justify the suspicion that he

had been detected in designs on Mr Meagles's pocket-handkerchief; nor

had he any appearance of being quarrelsome or violent. He was a quiet,

plain, steady man; made no attempt to escape; and seemed a little

depressed, but neither ashamed nor repentant. If he were a criminal

offender, he must surely be an incorrigible hypocrite; and if he were no

offender, why should Mr Meagles have collared him in the Circumlocution

Office? He perceived that the man was not a difficulty in his own

mind alone, but in Mr Meagles's too; for such conversation as they had

together on the short way to the Park was by no means well sustained,

and Mr Meagles's eye always wandered back to the man, even when he spoke