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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, who go through it in armour, defend themselves from quite as

much good as evil; to say nothing of the inconvenience 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 glove, and crawling in spirit

upon the ground before them, 'I will justify the tenderness with which

I know I shall be treated; and as, without 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 faintness 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, notwithstanding 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

gentlemen, 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 exceedingly 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 intentional and waking departure,

or a somnambulistic leave-taking and walking 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

inferred 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

liberation 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 lodgings

of Mr Swiveller, whom they 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 Garland 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 communicate to you a piece of news which has

come to me professionally.'

The idea of any professional intelligence from a gentleman connected

with legal matters, appeared to afford Richard any-thing but a pleasing

anticipation. Perhaps he connected it in his own mind with one or two

outstanding 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-twenty 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!'

CHAPTER 67

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 warning of the business a-foot, the

profoundest secrecy was observed in the whole transaction), Mr Quilp

remained shut up in his hermitage, undisturbed by any suspicion, and

extremely 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 pursuit 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

communication to him of some very unpleasant 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, imitating 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 ornamented by the insertion, in the

tip of the nose, of a tenpenny nail, yet smiled blandly in its less

lacerated parts, and seemed, like a sturdy martyr, to provoke 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

obscure 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 chillness in the air, and now and then the cry of some

bewildered boatman 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 broadcloth 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 dwarf's 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, determined 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 cabin-door arrested his

attention. When it had been twice or thrice repeated, he softly opened

the little window, and thrusting his head out, demanded 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,' rejoined his spouse. 'Don't be angry

with me.'

'Is it good news, pleasant news, news to make a man skip and snap his

fingers?' 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,

interrupting her, 'or I'll 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?'

'It was left at our house this afternoon,' 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 lost 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 for a 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 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 sobbing, to Mr Quilp's great

delight. But, just as he was contemplating her, and chuckling

excessively, he happened to observe that Tom Scott was delighted 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