第 8 页

I'll fight you both. I'll take both of you, both together, both

together!'

With which defiances the dwarf flourished his cudgel, and dancing 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'll beat you to a pulp, you dogs,' said Quilp, vainly endeavoring to

get near either of them for a parting blow. 'I'll bruise you until

you're copper-coloured, I'll break your faces till you haven't a

profile between you, I will.'

'Come, you drop that stick or it'll be worse for you,' said his boy,

dodging round him and watching an opportunity to rush in; 'you drop

that stick.'

'Come a little nearer, and I'll 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 manoeuvre tickled Mr

Quilp beyond description, and he laughed and stamped upon the ground as

at a most irresistible jest.

'Never mind,' said the boy, nodding his head and rubbing it at the same

time; 'you see if ever I offer to strike anybody again because they say

you're an uglier dwarf than can be seen anywheres for a penny, that's

all.'

'Do you mean to say, I'm 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? Why did

he say that?'

'He said what he did because he's a fool, and you said what you did

because 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 manner, but still more of quiet malice about his eyes and mouth.

'Here's 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 occupied in some needle-work, when he entered, accompanied by the

child; having left Kit downstairs.

'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'll 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,' whispered 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 my 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 punishment 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, recollect. If

you're not sharp enough, I'll creak the door, and woe betide you if I

have to creak it much. Go!'

Mrs Quilp departed according to order, and her amiable husband,

ensconcing 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, however, in what manner to begin or what

kind of inquiries she could make; and it was not until the door,

creaking in a very urgent manner, warned her to proceed without further

consideration, 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

innocently.

'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.'

'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 see him alter so.'

'He'll alter again, Nelly,' said Mrs Quilp, 'and be what he 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 beyond 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 am 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 morning, 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 trembled 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 friend, and burst

into a passion of tears.

In a few minutes Mr Quilp returned, and expressed the utmost surprise

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's 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

remarkable effect, but the child shrank 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's 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 business for him this morning.

Good-bye, Nelly. Here, you sir; take care of her, d'ye hear?'

Kit, who appeared at the summons, deigned to make no reply to so

needless an injunction, 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 followed his

young mistress, who had by this time taken her leave of Mrs Quilp and

departed.

'You're a keen questioner, an't you, Mrs Quilp?' said the dwarf,

turning upon her as soon as they were left alone.

'What more could I do?' returned his wife mildly.

'What more could you do!' sneered Quilp, 'couldn't you have done

something less? Couldn't you have done what you had to do, without

appearing in your favourite part of the crocodile, you minx?'

'I am very sorry for the child, Quilp,' said his wife. 'Surely I've

done enough. I've led her on to tell her secret she supposed we were

alone; 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, I can tell 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 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