第 47 页

been your fault if she had turned out ill. The credit's not yours as it

is, and the blame wouldn't have been yours as it might have been. You

gave no guarantee. You knew nothing about her.' 'You are not acquainted,

then,' said Arthur, hazarding a random question, 'with any of her

family?'

'Acquainted with any of her family?' returned Pancks. 'How should you be

acquainted with any of her family? You never heard of 'em. You can't

be acquainted with people you never heard of, can you? You should think

not!'

All this time the Patriarch sat serenely smiling; nodding or shaking his

head benevolently, as the case required.

'As to being a reference,' said Pancks, 'you know, in a general way,

what being a reference means. It's all your eye, that is! Look at your

tenants down the Yard here. They'd all be references for one another,

if you'd let 'em. What would be the good of letting 'em? It's no

satisfaction to be done by two men instead of one. One's enough. A

person who can't pay, gets another person who can't pay, to guarantee

that he can pay. Like a person with two wooden legs getting another

person with two wooden legs, to guarantee that he has got two natural

legs. It don't make either of them able to do a walking match. And four

wooden legs are more troublesome to you than two, when you don't want

any.' Mr Pancks concluded by blowing off that steam of his.

A momentary silence that ensued was broken by Mr F.'s Aunt, who had been

sitting upright in a cataleptic state since her last public remark. She

now underwent a violent twitch, calculated to produce a startling effect

on the nerves of the uninitiated, and with the deadliest animosity

observed:

'You can't make a head and brains out of a brass knob with nothing in

it. You couldn't do it when your Uncle George was living; much less when

he's dead.'

Mr Pancks was not slow to reply, with his usual calmness, 'Indeed,

ma'am! Bless my soul! I'm surprised to hear it.' Despite his presence of

mind, however, the speech of Mr F.'s Aunt produced a depressing effect

on the little assembly; firstly, because it was impossible to disguise

that Clennam's unoffending head was the particular temple of reason

depreciated; and secondly, because nobody ever knew on these occasions

whose Uncle George was referred to, or what spectral presence might be

invoked under that appellation.

Therefore Flora said, though still not without a certain boastfulness

and triumph in her legacy, that Mr F.'s Aunt was 'very lively to-day,

and she thought they had better go.' But Mr F.'s Aunt proved so lively

as to take the suggestion in unexpected dudgeon and declare that she

would not go; adding, with several injurious expressions, that if

'He'--too evidently meaning Clennam--wanted to get rid of her, 'let

him chuck her out of winder;' and urgently expressing her desire to see

'Him' perform that ceremony.

In this dilemma, Mr Pancks, whose resources appeared equal to any

emergency in the Patriarchal waters, slipped on his hat, slipped out at

the counting-house door, and slipped in again a moment afterwards with

an artificial freshness upon him, as if he had been in the country for

some weeks. 'Why, bless my heart, ma'am!' said Mr Pancks, rubbing up his

hair in great astonishment, 'is that you?

How do you do, ma'am? You are looking charming to-day! I am delighted

to see you. Favour me with your arm, ma'am; we'll have a little walk

together, you and me, if you'll honour me with your company.' And so

escorted Mr F.'s Aunt down the private staircase of the counting-house

with great gallantry and success. The patriarchal Mr Casby then rose

with the air of having done it himself, and blandly followed: leaving

his daughter, as she followed in her turn, to remark to her former lover

in a distracted whisper (which she very much enjoyed), that they had

drained the cup of life to the dregs; and further to hint mysteriously

that the late Mr F. was at the bottom of it.

Alone again, Clennam became a prey to his old doubts in reference to his

mother and Little Dorrit, and revolved the old thoughts and suspicions.

They were all in his mind, blending themselves with the duties he was

mechanically discharging, when a shadow on his papers caused him to look

up for the cause. The cause was Mr Pancks. With his hat thrown back upon

his ears as if his wiry prongs of hair had darted up like springs and

cast it off, with his jet-black beads of eyes inquisitively sharp, with

the fingers of his right hand in his mouth that he might bite the nails,

and with the fingers of his left hand in reserve in his pocket for

another course, Mr Pancks cast his shadow through the glass upon the

books and papers.

Mr Pancks asked, with a little inquiring twist of his head, if he

might come in again? Clennam replied with a nod of his head in the

affirmative. Mr Pancks worked his way in, came alongside the desk, made

himself fast by leaning his arms upon it, and started conversation with

a puff and a snort.

'Mr F.'s Aunt is appeased, I hope?' said Clennam.

'All right, sir,' said Pancks.

'I am so unfortunate as to have awakened a strong animosity in the

breast of that lady,' said Clennam. 'Do you know why?'

'Does SHE know why?' said Pancks.

'I suppose not.'

'_I_ suppose not,' said Pancks.

He took out his note-book, opened it, shut it, dropped it into his hat,

which was beside him on the desk, and looked in at it as it lay at the

bottom of the hat: all with a great appearance of consideration.

'Mr Clennam,' he then began, 'I am in want of information, sir.'

'Connected with this firm?' asked Clennam.

'No,' said Pancks.

'With what then, Mr Pancks? That is to say, assuming that you want it of

me.'

'Yes, sir; yes, I want it of you,' said Pancks, 'if I can persuade you

to furnish it. A, B, C, D. DA, DE, DI, DO. Dictionary order.

Dorrit. That's the name, sir?'

Mr Pancks blew off his peculiar noise again, and fell to at his

right-hand nails. Arthur looked searchingly at him; he returned the

look.

'I don't understand you, Mr Pancks.'

'That's the name that I want to know about.'

'And what do you want to know?'

'Whatever you can and will tell me.' This comprehensive summary of his

desires was not discharged without some heavy labouring on the part of

Mr Pancks's machinery.

'This is a singular visit, Mr Pancks. It strikes me as rather

extraordinary that you should come, with such an object, to me.'

'It may be all extraordinary together,' returned Pancks. 'It may be out

of the ordinary course, and yet be business. In short, it is business. I

am a man of business. What business have I in this present world, except

to stick to business? No business.'

With his former doubt whether this dry hard personage were quite in

earnest, Clennam again turned his eyes attentively upon his face. It

was as scrubby and dingy as ever, and as eager and quick as ever, and he

could see nothing lurking in it that was at all expressive of a latent

mockery that had seemed to strike upon his ear in the voice.

'Now,' said Pancks, 'to put this business on its own footing, it's not

my proprietor's.'

'Do you refer to Mr Casby as your proprietor?'

Pancks nodded. 'My proprietor. Put a case. Say, at my proprietor's I

hear name--name of young person Mr Clennam wants to serve. Say, name

first mentioned to my proprietor by Plornish in the Yard. Say, I go to

Plornish. Say, I ask Plornish as a matter of business for information.

Say, Plornish, though six weeks in arrear to my proprietor, declines.

Say, Mrs Plornish declines. Say, both refer to Mr Clennam. Put the

case.' 'Well?'

'Well, sir,' returned Pancks, 'say, I come to him. Say, here I am.'

With those prongs of hair sticking up all over his head, and his breath

coming and going very hard and short, the busy Pancks fell back a step

(in Tug metaphor, took half a turn astern) as if to show his dingy hull

complete, then forged a-head again, and directed his quick glance by

turns into his hat where his note-book was, and into Clennam's face.

'Mr Pancks, not to trespass on your grounds of mystery, I will be as

plain with you as I can. Let me ask two questions. First--'

'All right!' said Pancks, holding up his dirty forefinger with his

broken nail. 'I see! "What's your motive?"'

'Exactly.'

'Motive,' said Pancks, 'good. Nothing to do with my proprietor; not

stateable at present, ridiculous to state at present; but good.

Desiring to serve young person, name of Dorrit,' said Pancks, with his

forefinger still up as a caution. 'Better admit motive to be good.'

'Secondly, and lastly, what do you want to know?'

Mr Pancks fished up his note-book before the question was put, and

buttoning it with care in an inner breast-pocket, and looking straight

at Clennam all the time, replied with a pause and a puff, 'I want

supplementary information of any sort.'

Clennam could not withhold a smile, as the panting little steam-tug, so

useful to that unwieldy ship, the Casby, waited on and watched him as if

it were seeking an opportunity of running in and rifling him of all he

wanted before he could resist its manoeuvres; though there was that in

Mr Pancks's eagerness, too, which awakened many wondering speculations

in his mind. After a little consideration, he resolved to supply Mr

Pancks with such leading information as it was in his power to impart

him; well knowing that Mr Pancks, if he failed in his present research,

was pretty sure to find other means of getting it.

He, therefore, first requesting Mr Pancks to remember his voluntary

declaration that his proprietor had no part in the disclosure, and that

his own intentions were good (two declarations which that coaly little

gentleman with the greatest ardour repeated), openly told him that as to

the Dorrit lineage or former place of habitation, he had no information

to communicate, and that his knowledge of the family did not extend

beyond the fact that it appeared to be now reduced to five members;

namely, to two brothers, of whom one was single, and one a widower with

three children. The ages of the whole family he made known to Mr Pancks,

as nearly as he could guess at them; and finally he described to him

the position of the Father of the Marshalsea, and the course of time and

events through which he had become invested with that character. To

all this, Mr Pancks, snorting and blowing in a more and more portentous

manner as he became more interested, listened with great attention;

appearing to derive the most agreeable sensations from the painfullest

parts of the narrative, and particularly to be quite charmed by the

account of William Dorrit's long imprisonment.

'In conclusion, Mr Pancks,' said Arthur, 'I have but to say this. I have

reasons beyond a personal regard for speaking as little as I can of the

Dorrit family, particularly at my mother's house' (Mr Pancks nodded),

'and for knowing as much as I can. So devoted a man of business as you

are--eh?'

For Mr Pancks had suddenly made that blowing effort with unusual force.

'It's nothing,' said Pancks.

'So devoted a man of business as yourself has a perfect understanding of

a fair bargain. I wish to make a fair bargain with you, that you shall

enlighten me concerning the Dorrit family when you have it in your

power, as I have enlightened you. It may not give you a very flattering

idea of my business habits, that I failed to make my terms beforehand,'

continued Clennam; 'but I prefer to make them a point of honour. I have

seen so much business done on sharp principles that, to tell you the

truth, Mr Pancks, I am tired of them.'

Mr Pancks laughed. 'It's a bargain, sir,' said he. 'You shall find me

stick to it.'

After that, he stood a little while looking at Clennam, and biting his

ten nails all round; evidently while he fixed in his mind what he had

been told, and went over it carefully, before the means of supplying a

gap in his memory should be no longer at hand. 'It's all right,' he said

at last, 'and now I'll wish you good day, as it's collecting day in the

Yard. By-the-bye, though. A lame foreigner with a stick.'

'Ay, ay. You do take a reference sometimes, I see?' said Clennam.

'When he can pay, sir,' replied Pancks. 'Take all you can get, and

keep back all you can't be forced to give up. That's business. The lame

foreigner with the stick wants a top room down the Yard. Is he good for

it?'

'I am,' said Clennam, 'and I will answer for him.'

'That's enough. What I must have of Bleeding Heart Yard,' said Pancks,

making a note of the case in his book, 'is my bond. I want my bond, you

see. Pay up, or produce your property! That's the watchword down the

Yard. The lame foreigner with the stick represented that you sent him;

but he could represent (as far as that goes) that the Great Mogul sent

him. He has been in the hospital, I believe?'

'Yes. Through having met with an accident. He is only just now

discharged.'

'It's pauperising a man, sir, I have been shown, to let him into a

hospital?' said Pancks. And again blew off that remarkable sound.

'I have been shown so too,' said Clennam, coldly.

Mr Pancks, being by that time quite ready for a start, got under steam

in a moment, and, without any other signal or ceremony, was snorting