第 51 页

accurately defined, and on certain verbal notice duly given, he should

be at liberty to elect to share the Sunday breakfast, dinner, tea, or

supper, or each or any or all of those repasts or meals of Mr and Miss

Rugg (his daughter) in the back-parlour.

Miss Rugg was a lady of a little property which she had acquired,

together with much distinction in the neighbourhood, by having her

heart severely lacerated and her feelings mangled by a middle-aged baker

resident in the vicinity, against whom she had, by the agency of Mr

Rugg, found it necessary to proceed at law to recover damages for a

breach of promise of marriage. The baker having been, by the counsel for

Miss Rugg, witheringly denounced on that occasion up to the full amount

of twenty guineas, at the rate of about eighteen-pence an epithet, and

having been cast in corresponding damages, still suffered occasional

persecution from the youth of Pentonville. But Miss Rugg, environed by

the majesty of the law, and having her damages invested in the public

securities, was regarded with consideration.

In the society of Mr Rugg, who had a round white visage, as if all his

blushes had been drawn out of him long ago, and who had a ragged yellow

head like a worn-out hearth broom; and in the society of Miss Rugg, who

had little nankeen spots, like shirt buttons, all over her face, and

whose own yellow tresses were rather scrubby than luxuriant; Mr Pancks

had usually dined on Sundays for some few years, and had twice a week,

or so, enjoyed an evening collation of bread, Dutch cheese, and porter.

Mr Pancks was one of the very few marriageable men for whom Miss Rugg

had no terrors, the argument with which he reassured himself being

twofold; that is to say, firstly, 'that it wouldn't do twice,' and

secondly, 'that he wasn't worth it.' Fortified within this double

armour, Mr Pancks snorted at Miss Rugg on easy terms.

Up to this time, Mr Pancks had transacted little or no business at his

quarters in Pentonville, except in the sleeping line; but now that he

had become a fortune-teller, he was often closeted after midnight

with Mr Rugg in his little front-parlour office, and even after those

untimely hours, burnt tallow in his bed-room. Though his duties as his

proprietor's grubber were in no wise lessened; and though that service

bore no greater resemblance to a bed of roses than was to be discovered

in its many thorns; some new branch of industry made a constant demand

upon him. When he cast off the Patriarch at night, it was only to take

an anonymous craft in tow, and labour away afresh in other waters.

The advance from a personal acquaintance with the elder Mr Chivery to

an introduction to his amiable wife and disconsolate son, may have been

easy; but easy or not, Mr Pancks soon made it. He nestled in the bosom

of the tobacco business within a week or two after his first appearance

in the College, and particularly addressed himself to the cultivation of

a good understanding with Young John. In this endeavour he so prospered

as to lure that pining shepherd forth from the groves, and tempt him

to undertake mysterious missions; on which he began to disappear at

uncertain intervals for as long a space as two or three days together.

The prudent Mrs Chivery, who wondered greatly at this change, would have

protested against it as detrimental to the Highland typification on the

doorpost but for two forcible reasons; one, that her John was roused to

take strong interest in the business which these starts were supposed

to advance--and this she held to be good for his drooping spirits;

the other, that Mr Pancks confidentially agreed to pay her, for the

occupation of her son's time, at the handsome rate of seven and sixpence

per day. The proposal originated with himself, and was couched in the

pithy terms, 'If your John is weak enough, ma'am, not to take it,

that is no reason why you should be, don't you see? So, quite between

ourselves, ma'am, business being business, here it is!'

What Mr Chivery thought of these things, or how much or how little he

knew about them, was never gathered from himself. It has been already

remarked that he was a man of few words; and it may be here observed

that he had imbibed a professional habit of locking everything up. He

locked himself up as carefully as he locked up the Marshalsea debtors.

Even his custom of bolting his meals may have been a part of an uniform

whole; but there is no question, that, as to all other purposes, he kept

his mouth as he kept the Marshalsea door. He never opened it without

occasion. When it was necessary to let anything out, he opened it a

little way, held it open just as long as sufficed for the purpose, and

locked it again.

Even as he would be sparing of his trouble at the Marshalsea door, and

would keep a visitor who wanted to go out, waiting for a few moments if

he saw another visitor coming down the yard, so that one turn of the key

should suffice for both, similarly he would often reserve a remark if he

perceived another on its way to his lips, and would deliver himself of

the two together. As to any key to his inner knowledge being to be

found in his face, the Marshalsea key was as legible as an index to the

individual characters and histories upon which it was turned.

That Mr Pancks should be moved to invite any one to dinner at

Pentonville, was an unprecedented fact in his calendar. But he invited

Young John to dinner, and even brought him within range of the dangerous

(because expensive) fascinations of Miss Rugg. The banquet was appointed

for a Sunday, and Miss Rugg with her own hands stuffed a leg of mutton

with oysters on the occasion, and sent it to the baker's--not THE

baker's but an opposition establishment. Provision of oranges, apples,

and nuts was also made. And rum was brought home by Mr Pancks on

Saturday night, to gladden the visitor's heart. The store of creature

comforts was not the chief part of the visitor's reception. Its special

feature was a foregone family confidence and sympathy. When Young John

appeared at half-past one without the ivory hand and waistcoat of golden

sprigs, the sun shorn of his beams by disastrous clouds, Mr Pancks

presented him to the yellow-haired Ruggs as the young man he had so

often mentioned who loved Miss Dorrit. 'I am glad,' said Mr Rugg,

challenging him specially in that character, 'to have the distinguished

gratification of making your acquaintance, sir. Your feelings do you

honour. You are young; may you never outlive your feelings! If I was

to outlive my own feelings, sir,' said Mr Rugg, who was a man of many

words, and was considered to possess a remarkably good address; 'if I

was to outlive my own feelings, I'd leave fifty pound in my will to the

man who would put me out of existence.'

Miss Rugg heaved a sigh.

'My daughter, sir,' said Mr Rugg. 'Anastatia, you are no stranger to the

state of this young man's affections. My daughter has had her trials,

sir'--Mr Rugg might have used the word more pointedly in the singular

number--'and she can feel for you.'

Young John, almost overwhelmed by the touching nature of this greeting,

professed himself to that effect.

'What I envy you, sir, is,' said Mr Rugg, 'allow me to take your hat--we

are rather short of pegs--I'll put it in the corner, nobody will tread

on it there--What I envy you, sir, is the luxury of your own feelings. I

belong to a profession in which that luxury is sometimes denied us.'

Young John replied, with acknowledgments, that he only hoped he did what

was right, and what showed how entirely he was devoted to Miss Dorrit.

He wished to be unselfish; and he hoped he was. He wished to do anything

as laid in his power to serve Miss Dorrit, altogether putting himself

out of sight; and he hoped he did. It was but little that he could do,

but he hoped he did it.

'Sir,' said Mr Rugg, taking him by the hand, 'you are a young man that

it does one good to come across. You are a young man that I should

like to put in the witness-box, to humanise the minds of the legal

profession. I hope you have brought your appetite with you, and intend

to play a good knife and fork?'

'Thank you, sir,' returned Young John, 'I don't eat much at present.'

Mr Rugg drew him a little apart. 'My daughter's case, sir,' said he, 'at

the time when, in vindication of her outraged feelings and her sex, she

became the plaintiff in Rugg and Bawkins. I suppose I could have put it

in evidence, Mr Chivery, if I had thought it worth my while, that the

amount of solid sustenance my daughter consumed at that period did not

exceed ten ounces per week.' 'I think I go a little beyond that, sir,'

returned the other, hesitating, as if he confessed it with some shame.

'But in your case there's no fiend in human form,' said Mr Rugg, with

argumentative smile and action of hand. 'Observe, Mr Chivery!

No fiend in human form!' 'No, sir, certainly,' Young John added with

simplicity, 'I should be very sorry if there was.'

'The sentiment,' said Mr Rugg, 'is what I should have expected from your

known principles. It would affect my daughter greatly, sir, if she heard

it. As I perceive the mutton, I am glad she didn't hear it. Mr Pancks,

on this occasion, pray face me. My dear, face Mr Chivery. For what we

are going to receive, may we (and Miss Dorrit) be truly thankful!'

But for a grave waggishness in Mr Rugg's manner of delivering this

introduction to the feast, it might have appeared that Miss Dorrit was

expected to be one of the company. Pancks recognised the sally in

his usual way, and took in his provender in his usual way. Miss Rugg,

perhaps making up some of her arrears, likewise took very kindly to

the mutton, and it rapidly diminished to the bone. A bread-and-butter

pudding entirely disappeared, and a considerable amount of cheese and

radishes vanished by the same means. Then came the dessert.

Then also, and before the broaching of the rum and water, came Mr

Pancks's note-book. The ensuing business proceedings were brief but

curious, and rather in the nature of a conspiracy. Mr Pancks looked over

his note-book, which was now getting full, studiously; and picked out

little extracts, which he wrote on separate slips of paper on the table;

Mr Rugg, in the meanwhile, looking at him with close attention, and

Young John losing his uncollected eye in mists of meditation. When Mr

Pancks, who supported the character of chief conspirator, had completed

his extracts, he looked them over, corrected them, put up his note-book,

and held them like a hand at cards.

'Now, there's a churchyard in Bedfordshire,' said Pancks. 'Who takes

it?'

'I'll take it, sir,' returned Mr Rugg, 'if no one bids.'

Mr Pancks dealt him his card, and looked at his hand again.

'Now, there's an Enquiry in York,' said Pancks. 'Who takes it?'

'I'm not good for York,' said Mr Rugg.

'Then perhaps,' pursued Pancks, 'you'll be so obliging, John Chivery?'

Young John assenting, Pancks dealt him his card, and consulted his hand

again.

'There's a Church in London; I may as well take that. And a Family

Bible; I may as well take that, too. That's two to me. Two to me,'

repeated Pancks, breathing hard over his cards. 'Here's a Clerk at

Durham for you, John, and an old seafaring gentleman at Dunstable for

you, Mr Rugg. Two to me, was it? Yes, two to me. Here's a Stone; three

to me. And a Still-born Baby; four to me. And all, for the present,

told.' When he had thus disposed of his cards, all being done very

quietly and in a suppressed tone, Mr Pancks puffed his way into his own

breast-pocket and tugged out a canvas bag; from which, with a sparing

hand, he told forth money for travelling expenses in two little

portions. 'Cash goes out fast,' he said anxiously, as he pushed a

portion to each of his male companions, 'very fast.'

'I can only assure you, Mr Pancks,' said Young John, 'that I deeply

regret my circumstances being such that I can't afford to pay my own

charges, or that it's not advisable to allow me the time necessary for

my doing the distances on foot; because nothing would give me greater

satisfaction than to walk myself off my legs without fee or reward.'

This young man's disinterestedness appeared so very ludicrous in

the eyes of Miss Rugg, that she was obliged to effect a precipitate

retirement from the company, and to sit upon the stairs until she had

had her laugh out. Meanwhile Mr Pancks, looking, not without some pity,

at Young John, slowly and thoughtfully twisted up his canvas bag as if

he were wringing its neck. The lady, returning as he restored it to his

pocket, mixed rum and water for the party, not forgetting her fair self,

and handed to every one his glass. When all were supplied, Mr Rugg rose,

and silently holding out his glass at arm's length above the centre of

the table, by that gesture invited the other three to add theirs, and to

unite in a general conspiratorial clink. The ceremony was effective up

to a certain point, and would have been wholly so throughout, if Miss

Rugg, as she raised her glass to her lips in completion of it, had not

happened to look at Young John; when she was again so overcome by the

contemptible comicality of his disinterestedness as to splutter some

ambrosial drops of rum and water around, and withdraw in confusion.

Such was the dinner without precedent, given by Pancks at Pentonville;

and such was the busy and strange life Pancks led. The only waking

moments at which he appeared to relax from his cares, and to recreate

himself by going anywhere or saying anything without a pervading object,

were when he showed a dawning interest in the lame foreigner with the

stick, down Bleeding Heart Yard.