suddenlyaddressing
the
'
prentices
and
Guster
,
to
their
consternation
,
“
if
I
am
told
by
the
doctor
that
calomel
or
castor-oil
is
good
for
me
,
I
may
naturally
ask
what
is
calomel
,
and
what
is
castor-oil
.
I
may
wish
to
be
informed
of
that
,
before
I
dose
myself
with
either
or
with
both
.
Now
,
my
young
friends
,
what
is
this
Terewth
,
then
?
Firstly
(
in
a
spirit
of
love
)
,
what
is
the
common
sort
of
Terewth
—
the
working
clothes
—
the
every-day
wear
,
my
young
friends
?
Is
it
deception
?
”
(
“
Ah
—
h
!
”
from
Mrs.
Snagsby
.
)
“
Is
it
suppression
?
”
(
A
shiver
in
the
negative
from
Mrs.
Snagsby
.
)
“
Is
it
reservation
?
”
(
A
shake
of
the
head
from
Mrs.
Snagsby
—
very
long
and
very
tight
.
)
“
No
,
my
friends
,
it
is
neither
of
these
.
Neither
of
these
names
belongs
to
it
.
When
this
young
Heathen
now
among
us
—
who
is
now
,
my
friends
,
asleep
,
the
seal
of
indifference
and
perdition
being
set
upon
his
eyelids
;
but
do
not
wake
him
,
for
it
is
right
that
I
should
have
to
wrestle
,
and
to
combat
,
and
to
struggle
,
and
to
conquer
,
for
his
sake
—
when
this
young
hardened
Heathen
told
us
a
story
of
a
Cock
,
and
of
a
Bull
,
and
of
a
lady
,
and
of
a
sovereign
,
was
that
the
Terewth
?
No.
Or
,
if
it
was
partly
,
was
it
wholly
,
and
entirely
?
No
,
my
friends
,
no
!
”
If
Mr.
Snagsby
could
withstand
his
little
woman
's
look
,
as
it
enters
at
his
eyes
,
the
windows
of
his
soul
,
and
searches
the
whole
tenement
,
he
were
other
than
the
man
he
is
.
He
cowers
and
droops
.
“
Or
,
my
juvenile
friends
,
”
says
Chadband
,
descending
to
the
level
of
their
comprehension
,
with
a
very
obtrusive
demonstration
,
in
his
greasily
meek
smile
,
of
coming
a
long
way
down
stairs
for
the
purpose
,
“
if
the
master
of
this
house
was
to
go
forth
into
the
city
and
there
see
an
eel
,
and
was
to
come
back
,
and
was
to
call
untoe
him
the
mistress
of
this
house
,
and
was
to
say
,
‘Sarah
,
rejoice
with
me
,
for
I
have
seen
an
elephant
!
’
would
that
be
Terewth
?
”
Mrs.
Snagsby
in
tears
.
“
Or
put
it
,
my
juvenile
friends
,
that
he
saw
an
elephant
,
and
returning
said
‘Lo
,
the
city
is
barren
,
I
have
seen
but
an
eel
,
’
would
that
be
Terewth
?
”
Mrs.
Snagsby
sobbing
loudly
.
“
Or
put
it
,
my
juvenile
friends
,
”
says
Chadband
,
stimulated
by
the
sound
,
“
that
the
unnatural
parents
of
this
slumbering
Heathen
—
for
parents
he
had
,
my
juvenile
friends
,
beyond
a
doubt
—
after
casting
him
forth
to
the
wolves
and
the
vultures
,
and
the
wild
dogs
and
the
young
gazelles
,
and
the
serpents
,
went
back
to
their
dwellings
and
had
their
pipes
,
and
their
pots
,
and
their
flutings
and
their
dancings
,
and
their
malt
liquors
,
and
their
butcher
's
meat
and
poultry
,
would
that
be
Terewth
?
”
Mrs.
Snagsby
replies
by
delivering
herself
a
prey
to
spasms
;
not
an
unresisting
prey
,
but
a
crying
and
a
tearing
one
,
so
that
Cook
's
Court
re-echoes
with
her
shrieks
.
Finally
,
becoming
cataleptic
,
she
has
to
be
carried
up
the
narrow
staircase
like
a
grand
piano
.
After
unspeakable
suffering
,
productive
of
the
utmost
consternation
,
she
is
pronounced
,
by
expresses
from
the
bedroom
,
free
from
pain
,
though
much
exhausted
;
in
which
state
of
affairs
Mr.
Snagsby
,
trampled
and
crushed
in
the
piano-forte
removal
,
and
extremely
timid
and
feeble
,
ventures
to
come
out
from
behind
the
door
in
the
drawing-room
.
All
this
time
,
Jo
has
been
standing
on
the
spot
where
he
woke
up
,
ever
picking
his
cap
,
and
putting
bits
of
fur
in
his
mouth
.
He
spits
them
out
with
a
remorseful
air
,
for
he
feels
that
it
is
in
his
nature
to
be
an
unimprovable
reprobate
,
and
that
it
's
no
good
his
trying
to
keep
awake
,
for
he
wo
n't
never
know
nothink
.
Though
it
may
be
,
Jo
,
that
there
is
a
history
so
interesting
and
affecting
even
to
minds
as
near
the
brutes
as
thine
,
recording
deeds
done
on
this
earth
for
common
men
,
that
if
the
Chadbands
,
removing
their
own
persons
from
the
light
,
would
but
show
it
thee
in
simple
reverence
,
would
but
leave
it
unimproved
,
would
but
regard
it
as
being
eloquent
enough
without
their
modest
aid
—
it
might
hold
thee
awake
,
and
thou
might
learn
from
it
yet
!
Jo
never
heard
of
any
such
book
.
Its
compilers
,
and
the
Reverend
Chadband
,
are
all
one
to
him
—
except
that
he
knows
the
reverend
Chadband
,
and
would
rather
run
away
from
him
for
an
hour
than
hear
him
talk
for
five
minutes
.
“
It
a
n't
no
good
my
waiting
here
no
longer
,
”
thinks
Jo
.
“
Mr.
Snagsby
a
n't
a
going
to
say
nothink
to
me
to-night
.
”
And
down-stairs
he
shuffles
.
But
down-stairs
is
the
charitable
Guster
,
holding
by
the
handrail
of
the
kitchen
stairs
,
and
warding
off
a
fit
,
as
yet
doubtfully
,
the
same
having
been
induced
by
Mrs.
Snagsby
's
screaming
.
She
has
her
own
supper
of
bread
and
cheese
to
hand
to
Jo
;
with
whom
she
ventures
to
interchange
a
word
or
so
,
for
the
first
time
.
“
Here
's
something
to
cat
,
poor
boy
,
”
says
Guster
.
“
Thank'ee
,
mum
,
”
says
Jo
.
“
Are
you
hungry
?
”
“
Jist
!
”
says
Jo
.
“
What
's
gone
of
your
father
and
your
mother
,
eh
?
”
Jo
stops
in
the
middle
of
a
bite
,
and
looks
petrified
.
For
this
orphan
charge
of
the
Christian
Saint
whose
shrine
was
at
Tooting
,
has
patted
him
on
the
shoulder
;
and
it
is
the
first
time
in
his
life
that
any
decent
hand
has
been
so
laid
upon
him
.
“
I
never
know
'd
nothink
about
'
em
,
”
says
Jo
.
“
No
more
did
n't
I
of
mine
,
”
cries
Guster
.
She
is
repressing
symptoms
favourable
to
the
fit
,
when
she
seems
to
take
alarm
at
something
,
and
vanishes
down
the
stairs
.
“
Jo
,
”
whispers
the
law-stationer
softly
,
as
the
boy
lingers
on
the
step
.
“
Here
I
am
,
Mr.
Snagsby
?
”
“
I
did
n't
know
you
were
gone
—
there
's
another
half-crown
,
Jo
.
It
was
quite
right
of
you
to
say
nothing
about
the
lady
the
other
night
when
we
were
out
together
.
It
would
breed
trouble
.
You
ca
n't
be
too
quiet
,
Jo
.
”
“
I
am
fly
,
master
!
”
And
so
,
good
night
.
A
ghostly
shade
,
frilled
and
nightcapped
,
follows
the
law-stationer
to
the
room
he
came
from
,
and
glides
higher
up
.
And
henceforth
he
begins
,
go
where
he
will
,
to
be
attended
by
another
shadow
than
his
own
,
hardly
less
constant
than
his
own
,
hardly
less
quiet
than
his
own
.
And
into
whatsoever
atmosphere
of
secresy
his
own
shadow
may
pass
,
let
all
concerned
in
the
secresy
beware
!
For
the
watchful
Mrs.
Snagsby
is
there
too
—
bone
of
his
bone
,
flesh
of
his
flesh
,
shadow
of
his
shadow
.
CHAPTER
XXVI
.
SHARPSHOOTERS
.
WINTRY
morning
,
looking
with
dull
eyes
and
sallow
face
upon
the
neighbourhood
of
Leicester
Square
,
finds
its
inhabitants
unwilling
to
get
out
of
bed
.
Many
of
them
are
not
early
risers
at
the
brightest
of
times
,
being
birds
of
night
who
roost
when
the
sun
is
high
,
and
are
wide
awake
and
keen
for
prey
when
the
stars
shine
out
.
Behind
dingy
blind
and
curtain
,
in
upper
story
and
garret
,
skulking
more
or
less
under
false
names
,
false
hair
,
false
titles
,
false
jewellery
,
and
false
histories
,
a
colony
of
brigands
lie
in
their
first
sleep
.
Gentlemen
of
the
green
baize
road
who
could
discourse
,
from
personal
experience
,
of
foreign
galleys
and
home
treadmills
;
spies
of
strong
governments
that
eternally
quake
with
weakness
and
miserable
fear
,
broken
traitors
,
cowards
,
bullies
,
gamesters
,
shufflers
,
swindlers
,
and
false
witnesses
;
some
not
unmarked
by
the
branding-iron
,
beneath
their
dirty
braid
;
all
with
more
cruelty
in
them
than
was
in
Nero
,
and
more
crime
than
is
in
Newgate
.
For
,
howsoever
bad
the
devil
can
be
in
fustian
or
smock-frock
(
and
he
can
be
very
bad
in
both
)
he
is
a
more
designing
,
callous
,
and
intolerable
devil
when
he
sticks
a
pin
in
his
shirt-front
,
calls
himself
a
gentleman
,
backs
a
card
or
color
,
plays
a
game
or
so
of
billiards
,
and
knows
a
little
about
bills
and
promissory
notes
,
than
in
any
other
form
he
wears
.
And
in
such
form
Mr.
Bucket
shall
find
him
,
when
he
will
,
pervading
the
tributary
channels
of
Leicester
Square
.
But
the
wintry
morning
wants
him
not
and
wakes
him
not
.
It
wakes
Mr.
George
of
the
Shooting
Gallery
,
and
his
Familiar
.
They
arise
,
roll
up
and
stow
away
their
mattresses
.
Mr.
George
,
having
shaved
himself
before
a
looking-glass
of
minute
proportions
,
then
marches
out
,
bare-headed
and
bare-chested
,
to
the
Pump
,
in
the
little
yard
,
and
anon
comes
back
shining
with
yellow
soap
,
friction
,
drifting
rain
,
and
exceedingly
cold
water
.
As
he
rubs
himself
upon
a
large
jack-towel
,
blowing
like
a
military
sort
of
diver
just
come
up
:
his
crisp
hair
curling
tighter
and
tighter
on
his
sunburnt
temples
,
the
more
he
rubs
it
,
so
that
it
looks
as
if
it
never
could
be
loosened
by
any
less
coercive
instrument
than
an
iron
rake
or
a
curry-comb
—
as
he
rubs
,
and
puffs
,
and
polishes
,
and
blows
,
turning
his
head
from
side
to
side
,
the
more
conveniently
to
excoriate
his
throat
,
and
standing
with
his
body
well
bent
forward
,
to
keep
the
wet
from
his
martial
legs
—
Phil
,
on
his
knees
lighting
a
fire
,
looks
round
as
if
it
were
enough
washing
for
him
to
see
all
that
done
,
and
sufficient
renovation
,
for
one
day
,
to
take
in
the
superfluous
health
his
master
throws
off
.
When
Mr.
George
is
dry
,
he
goes
to
work
to
brush
his
head
with
two
hard
brushes
at
once
,
to
that
unmerciful
degree
that
Phil
,
shouldering
his
way
round
the
gallery
in
the
act
of
sweeping
it
,
winks
with
sympathy
.
This
chafing
over
,
the
ornamental
part
of
Mr.
George
's
toilet
is
soon
performed
.
He
fills
his
pipe
,
lights
it
,
and
marches
up
and
down
smoking
,
as
his
custom
is
,
while
Phil
,
raising
a
powerful
odour
of
hot
rolls
and
coffee
,
prepares
breakfast
.
He
smokes
gravely
,
and
marches
in
slow
time
.
Perhaps
this
morning
's
pipe
is
devoted
to
the
memory
of
Gridley
in
his
grave
.
“
And
so
,
Phil
,
”
says
George
of
the
Shooting
Gallery
,
after
several
turns
in
silence
;
“
you
were
dreaming
of
the
country
last
night
?
”
Phil
,
by
the
bye
,
said
as
much
,
in
a
tone
of
surprise
,
as
he
scrambled
out
of
bed
.
“
Yes
,
guv'ner
.
”
“
What
was
it
like
?
”
“
I
hardly
know
what
it
was
like
,
guv'ner
,
”
says
Phil
,
considering
.
“
How
did
you
know
it
was
the
country
?
”
“
On
accounts
of
the
grass
,
I
think
.
And
the
swans
upon
it
,
”
says
Phil
,
after
further
consideration
.
“
What
were
the
swans
doing
on
the
grass
.
”
“
They
was
a
eating
of
it
,
I
expect
,
”
says
Phil
.
The
master
resumes
his
march
,
and
the
man
resumes
his
preparation
of
breakfast
.
It
is
not
necessarily
a
lengthened
preparation
,
being
limited
to
the
setting
forth
of
very
simple
breakfast
requisites
for
two
,
and
the
broiling
of
a
rasher
of
bacon
at
the
fire
in
the
rusty
grate
;
but
as
Phil
has
to
sidle
round
a
considerable
part
of
the
gallery
for
every
object
he
wants
,
and
never
brings
two
objects
at
once
,
it
takes
time
under
the
circumstances
.
At
length
the
breakfast
is
ready
.
Phil
announcing
it
,
Mr.
George
knocks
the
ashes
out
of
his
pipe
on
the
hob
,
stands
his
pipe
itself
in
the
chimney
corner
,
and
sits
down
to
the
meal
.
When
he
has
helped
himself
,
Phil
follows
suit
;
sitting
at
the
extreme
end
of
the
little
oblong
table
,
and
taking
his
plate
on
his
knees
.
Either
in
humility
,
or
to
hide
his
blackened
hands
,
or
because
it
is
his
natural
manner
of
eating
.
“
The
country
,
”
says
Mr.
George
,
plying
his
knife
and
fork
;
“
why
,
I
suppose
you
never
clapped
your
eyes
on
the
country
,
Phil
?
”
“
I
see
the
marshes
once
,
”
says
Phil
,
contentedly
eating
his
breakfast
.
“
What
marshes
?
”
“
The
marshes
,
commander
,
”
returns
Phil
.
“
Where
are
they
?
”
“
I
do
n't
know
where
they
are
,
”
says
Phil
;
“
but
I
see
'
em
,
guv'ner
.
They
was
flat
.
And
miste
.
”
Governor
and
Commander
are
interchangeable
terms
with
Phil
,
expressive
of
the
same
respect
and
deference
,
and
applicable
to
nobody
but
Mr.
George
.
“
I
was
born
in
the
country
,
Phil
.
”
“
Was
you
indeed
,
commander
?
”
“
Yes
.
And
bred
there
.
”
Phil
elevates
his
one
eyebrow
,
and
,
after
respectfully
staring
at
his
master
to
express
interest
,
swallows
a
great
gulp
of
coffee
,
still
staring
at
him
.
“
There
's
not
a
bird
's
note
that
I
do
n't
know
,
”
says
Mr.
George
.
“
Not
many
an
English
leaf
or
berry
that
I
could
n't
name
.
Not
many
a
tree
that
I
could
n't
climb
yet
,
if
I
was
put
to
it
.
I
was
a
real
country
boy
,
once
.
My
good
mother
lived
in
the
country
.
”
“
She
must
have
been
a
fine
old
lady
,
gav'ner
,
”
Phil
observes
.
“
Ay
!
and
not
so
old
either
,
five-and-thirty
years
ago
,
”
says
Mr.
George
.
“
But
I
'll
wager
that
at
ninety
she
would
be
near
as
upright
as
me
,
and
near
as
broad
across
the
shoulders
.
”
“
Did
she
die
at
ninety
,
guv'ner
?
”
enquires
Phil
.
“
No.
Bosh
!
Let
her
rest
in
peace
,
God
bless
her
!
”
says
the
trooper
.
“
What
set
me
on
about
country
boys
,
and
runaways
and
good
for
nothings
?
You
,
to
be
sure
!
So
you
never
clapped
your
eyes
upon
the
country
—
marshes
and
dreams
excepted
.
Eh
?
”
Phil
shakes
his
head
.
“
Do
you
want
to
see
it
?
”
“
N-no
,
I
do
n't
know
as
I
do
,
particular
,
”
says
Phil
.
“
The
town
's
enough
for
you
,
eh
?
”
“
Why
,
you
see
,
commander
,
”
says
Phil
,
“
I
ai
n't
acquainted
with
any-think
else
,
and
I
doubt
if
I
ai
n't
a
getting
too
old
to
take
to
novelties
.
”
“
How
old
are
you
,
Phil
?
”
asks
the
trooper
,
pausing
as
he
conveys
his
smoking
saucer
to
his
lips
.
“
I
'm
something
with
a
eight
in
it
,
”
says
Phil
.
“
It
ca
n't
be
eighty
.
Nor
yet
eighteen
.
It
's
betwixt
'
em
,
somewheres
.
”
Mr.
George
,
slowly
putting
down
his
saucer
without
tasting
the
contents
,
is
laughingly
beginning
,
“
Why
,
what
the
deuce
,
Phil
”
—
when
he
stops
,
seeing
that
Phil
is
counting
on
his
dirty
fingers
.
“
I
was
just
eight
,
”
says
Phil
,
“
agreeable
to
the
parish
calculation
,
when
I
went
with
the
tinker
.
I
was
sent
on
a
errand
,
and
I
see
him
a
sittin
under
a
old
buildin
with
a
fire
all
to
himself
wery
comfortable
,
and
he
says
,
‘Would
you
like
to
come
along
a
me
,
my
man
?
’
I
says
‘Yes
,
’
and
him
and
me
and
the
fire
goes
home
to
Clerkenwell
together
.
That
was
April
Fool
Day
.
I
was
able
to
count
up
to
ten
;
and
when
April
Fool
Day
come
round
again
,
I
says
to
myself
,
‘Now
,
old
chap
,
you
're
one
and
a
eight
in
it.’
April
Fool
Day
after
that
,
I
says
,
‘Now
old
chap
,
you
're
two
and
a
eight
in
it.’
In
course
of
time
,
I
come
to
ten
and
a
eight
in
it
;
two
tens
and
a
eight
in
it
.
When
it
got
so
high
,
it
got
the
upper
hand
of
me
;
but
this
is
how
I
always
know
there
's
a
eight
in
it
.
”
“
Ah
!
”
says
Mr.
George
,
resuming
his
breakfast
.
“
And
where
's
the
tinker
?
”
“
Drink
put
him
in
the
hospital
,
guv'ner
,
and
the
hospital
put
him
—
in
a
glass-case
,
I
have
heerd
,
”
Phil
replies
mysteriously
.
“
By
that
means
you
got
promotion
?
Took
the
business
,
Phil
?
”
“
Yes
,
commander
,
I
took
the
business
.
Such
as
it
was
.
It
was
n't
much
of
a
beat
—
round
Saffron
Hill
,
Hatton
Garden
,
Clerkenwell
,
Smiffeld
,
and
there
—
poor
neighbourhood
,
where
they
uses
up
the
kettles
till
they
're
past
mending
.
Most
of
the
tramping
tinkers
used
to
come
and
lodge
at
our
place
;
that
was
the
best
part
of
my
master
's
earnings
.
But
they
did
n't
come
to
me
.
I
war
n't
like
him
.
He
could
sing
'
em
a
good
song
.
I
could
n't
!
He
could
play
'
em
a
tune
on
any
sort
of
pot
you
please
,
so
as
it
was
iron
or
block
tin
.
I
never
could
do
nothing
with
a
pot
,
but
mend
it
or
bile
it
—
never
had
a
note
of
music
in
me
.
Besides
,
I
was
too
ill-looking
,
and
their
wives
complained
of
me
.
”
“
They
were
mighty
particular
.
You
would
pass
muster
in
a
crowd
,
Phil
!
”
says
the
trooper
with
a
pleasant
smile
.
“
No
,
guv'ner
,
”
returns
Phil
,
shaking
his
head
.
“
No
,
I
should
n't
.
I
was
passable
enough
when
I
went
with
the
tinker
,
though
nothing
to
boast
of
then
:
but
what
with
blowing
the
fire
with
my
mouth
when
I
was
young
,
and
spileing
my
complexion
,
and
singeing
my
hair
off
,
and
swallering
the
smoke
;
and
what
with
being
nat'rally
unfort'nate
in
the
way
of
running
against
hot
metal
,
and
marking
myself
by
sich
means
;
and
what
with
having
turn-ups
with
the
tinker
as
I
got
older
,
almost
whenever
he
was
too
far
gone
in
drink
—
which
was
almost
always
—
my
beauty
was
queer
,
wery
queer
,
even
at
that
time
.
As
to
since
;
what
with
a
dozen
years
in
a
dark
forge
,
where
the
men
was
given
to
larking
;
and
what
with
being
scorched
in
a
accident
at
a
gasworks
;
and
what
with
being
blowed
out
of
winder
,
case-filling
at
the
firework
business
;
I
am
ugly
enough
to
be
made
a
show
on
!
”
Resigning
himself
to
which
condition
with
a
perfectly
satisfied
manner
,
Phil
begs
the
favor
of
another
cup
of
coffee
.
While
drinking
it
,
he
says
:
“
It
was
after
the
case-filling
blow-up
,
when
I
first
see
you
,
commander
.
You
remember
?
”
“
I
remember
,
Phil
.
You
were
walking
along
in
the
sun
.
”
“
Crawling
,
guv'ner
,
again
a
wall
—
”
“
True
,
Phil
—
shouldering
your
way
on
—
”
“
In
a
nightcap
!
”
exclaims
Phil
,
excited
.
“
In
a
nightcap
—
”
“
And
hobbling
with
a
couple
of
sticks
!
”
cries
Phil
,
still
more
excited
.
“
With
a
couple
of
sticks
.
When
—
”
“
When
you
stops
,
you
know
,
”
cries
Phil
,
putting
down
his
cup
and
saucer
,
and
hastily
removing
his
plate
from
his
knees
,
“
and
says
to
me
,
‘What
,
comrade
!
You
have
been
in
the
wars
!
’
I
did
n't
say
much
to
you
,
commander
,
then
,
for
I
was
took
by
surprise
,
that
a
person
so
strong
and
healthy
and
bold
as
you
was
,
should
stop
to
speak
to
such
a
limping
bag
of
bones
as
I
was
.
But
you
says
to
me
,
says
you
,
delivering
it
out
of
your
chest
as
hearty
as
possible
,
so
that
it
was
like
a
glass
of
something
hot
,
‘What
accident
have
you
met
with
?
You
have
been
badly
hurt
.
What
's
amiss
,
old
boy
?
Cheer
up
,
and
tell
us
about
it
!
’
Cheer
up
!
I
was
cheered
already
!
I
says
as
much
to
you
,
you
says
more
to
me
,
I
says
more
to
you
,
you
says
more
to
me
,
and
here
I
am
,
commander
!
Here
I
am
,
commander
!
”
cries
Phil
,
who
has
started
from
his
chair
and
unaccountably
begun
to
sidle
away
.
“
If
a
mark
's
wanted
,
or
if
it
will
improve
the
business
,
let
the
customers
take
aim
at
me
.
They
ca
n't
spoil
my
beauty
.
I
'
m
all
right
.
Come
on
!
If
they
want
a
man
to
box
at
,
let
'
em
box
at
me
.
Let
'
em
knock
me
well
about
the
head
.
I
do
n't
mind
!
If
they
want
a
light-weight
,
to
be
throwed
for
practice
,
Cornwall
,
Devonshire
,
or
Lancashire
,
let
'
em
throw
me
.
They
wo
n't
hurt
me
.
I
have
been
throwed
,
all
sorts
of
styles
,
all
my
life
!
”
With
this
unexpected
speech
,
energetically
delivered
,
and
accompanied
by
action
illustrative
of
the
various
exercises
referred
to
,
Phil
Squod
shoulders
his
way
round
three
sides
of
the
gallery
,
and
abruptly
tacking
off
at
his
commander
,
makes
a
butt
at
him
with
his
head
,
intended
to
express
devotion
to
his
service
.
He
then
begins
to
clear
away
the
breakfast
.
Mr.
George
,
after
laughing
cheerfully
,
and
clapping
him
on
the
shoulder
,
assists
in
these
arrangements
,
and
helps
to
get
the
gallery
into
business
order
.
That
done
,
he
takes
a
turn
at
the
dumb-bells
;
and
afterwards
weighing
himself
,
and
opining
that
he
is
getting
“
too
fleshy
,
”
engages
with
great
gravity
in
solitary
broadsword
practice
.
Meanwhile
,
Phil
has
fallen
to
work
at
his
usual
table
,
where
he
screws
and
unscrews
,
and
cleans
,
and
files
,
and
whistles
into
small
apertures
,
and
blackens
himself
more
and
more
,
and
seems
to
do
and
undo
everything
that
can
be
done
and
undone
about
a
gun
.
Master
and
man
are
at
length
disturbed
by
footsteps
in
the
passage
,
where
they
make
an
unusual
sound
,
denoting
the
arrival
of
unusual
company
.
These
steps
,
advancing
nearer
and
nearer
to
the
gallery
,
bring
into
it
a
group
,
at
first
sight
scarcely
reconcilable
with
any
day
in
the
year
but
the
fifth
of
November
.
It
consists
of
a
limp
and
ugly
figure
carried
in
a
chair
by
two
bearers
,
and
attended
by
a
lean
female
with
a
face
like
a
pinched
mask
,
who
might
be
expected
immediately
to
recite
the
popular
verses
,
commemorative
of
the
time
when
they
did
contrive
to
blow
old
England
up
alive
,
but
for
her
keeping
her
lips
tightly
and
defiantly
closed
as
the
chair
is
put
down
.
At
which
point
,
the
figure
in
it
gasping
,
“
O
Lord
!
O
dear
me
!
I
am
shaken
!
”
adds
,
“
How
de
do
,
my
dear
friend
,
how
de
do
?
”
Mr.
George
then
descries
,
in
the
procession
,
the
venerable
Mr.
Smallweed
out
for
an
airing
,
attended
by
his
grand-daughter
Judy
as
body-guard
.
“
Mr.
George
,
my
dear
friend
,
”
says
grandfather
Smallweed
,
removing
his
right
arm
from
the
neck
of
one
of
his
bearers
,
whom
he
has
nearly
throttled
coming
along
,
“
how
de
do
?
You
're
surprised
to
see
me
,
my
dear
friend
.
”
“
I
should
hardly
have
been
more
surprised
to
see
your
friend
in
the
city
,
”
returns
Mr.
George
.
“
I
am
very
seldom
out
,
”
pants
Mr.
Smallweed
.
“
I
have
n't
been
out
for
many
months
.
It
's
inconvenient
—
and
it
comes
expensive
.
But
I
longed
so
much
to
see
you
,
my
dear
Mr.
George
.
How
de
do
,
sir
?
”
“
I
am
well
enough
,
”
says
Mr.
George
.
“
I
hope
you
are
the
same
.
”
“
You
ca
n't
be
too
well
,
my
dear
friend
.
”
Mr.
Smallweed
takes
him
by
both
hands
.
“
I
have
brought
my
grand-daughter
Judy
.
I
could
n't
keep
her
away
.
She
longed
so
much
to
see
you
.
”
“
Hum
!
She
bears
it
calmly
!
”
mutters
Mr.
George
.
“
So
we
got
a
hackney
cab
,
and
put
a
chair
in
it
,
and
just
round
the
corner
they
lifted
me
out
of
the
cab
and
into
the
chair
,
and
carried
me
here
,
that
I
might
see
my
dear
friend
in
his
own
establishment
!
This
,
”
says
grandfather
Smallweed
,
alluding
to
the
bearer
,
who
has
been
in
danger
of
strangulation
,
and
who
withdraws
adjusting
his
windpipe
,
“
is
the
driver
of
the
cab
.
He
has
nothing
extra
.
It
is
by
agreement
included
in
his
fare
.
This
person
,
”
the
other
bearer
,
“
we
engaged
in
the
street
outside
for
a
pint
of
beer
.
Which
is
twopence
.
Judy
,
give
the
person
twopence
.
I
was
not
sure
you
had
a
workman
of
your
own
here
,
my
dear
friend
,
or
we
need
n't
have
employed
this
person
.
”
Grandfather
Smallweed
refers
to
Phil
,
with
a
glance
of
considerable
terror
,
and
a
half-subdued
“
O
Lord
!
O
dear
me
!
”
Nor
is
his
apprehension
,
on
the
surface
of
things
,
without
some
reason
;
for
Phil
,
who
has
never
beheld
the
apparition
in
the
black
velvet
cap
before
,
has
stopped
short
with
a
gun
in
his
hand
,
with
much
of
the
air
of
a
dead
shot
,
intent
on
picking
Mr.
Smallweed
off
as
an
ugly
old
bird
of
the
crow
species
.
“
Judy
,
my
child
,
”
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
“
give
the
person
his
twopence
.
It
's
a
great
deal
for
what
he
has
done
.
”
The
person
,
who
is
one
of
those
extraordinary
specimens
of
human
fungus
that
spring
up
spontaneously
in
the
western
streets
of
London
,
ready
dressed
in
an
old
red
jacket
,
with
a
“
Mission
”
for
holding
horses
and
calling
coaches
,
receives
his
twopence
with
anything
but
transport
,
tosses
the
money
into
the
air
,
catches
it
over-handed
,
and
retires
.
“
My
dear
Mr.
George
,
”
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
“
would
you
be
so
kind
as
help
to
carry
me
to
the
fire
?
I
am
accustomed
to
a
fire
,
and
I
am
an
old
man
,
and
I
soon
chill
.
O
dear
me
!
”
His
closing
exclamation
is
jerked
out
of
the
venerable
gentleman
by
the
suddenness
with
which
Mr.
Squod
,
like
a
genie
,
catches
him
up
,
chair
and
all
,
and
deposits
him
on
the
hearthstone
.
“
O
Lord
!
”
says
Mr.
Smallweed
,
panting
.
“
O
dear
me
!
O
my
stars
!
My
dear
friend
,
your
workman
is
very
strong
—
and
very
prompt
.
O
Lord
,
he
is
very
prompt
!
Judy
,
draw
me
back
a
little
.
I
'm
being
scorched
in
the
legs
;
”
which
indeed
is
testified
to
the
noses
of
all
present
by
the
smell
of
his
worsted
stockings
.
The
gentle
Judy
,
having
backed
her
grandfather
a
little
way
from
the
fire
,
and
having
shaken
him
up
as
usual
,
and
having
released
his
overshadowed
eye
from
its
black
velvet
extinguisher
,
Mr.
Smallweed
again
says
,
“
O
dear
me
!
O
Lord
!
”
and
looking
about
,
and
meeting
Mr.
George
's
glance
,
again
stretches
out
both
hands
.
“
My
dear
friend
!
So
happy
in
this
meeting
!
And
this
is
your
establishment
?
It
's
a
delightful
place
.
It
's
a
picture
!
You
never
find
that
anything
goes
off
here
,
accidentally
;
do
you
,
my
dear
friend
?
”
adds
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
very
ill
at
ease
.
“
No
,
no.
No
fear
of
that
.
”
“
And
your
workman
.
He
—
O
dear
me
!
—
he
never
lets
anything
off
without
meaning
it
;
does
he
,
my
dear
friend
?
”
“
He
has
never
hurt
anybody
but
himself
,
”
says
Mr.
George
,
smiling
.
“
But
he
might
,
you
know
.
He
seems
to
have
hurt
himself
a
good
deal
,
and
he
might
hurt
somebody
else
,
”
the
old
gentleman
returns
.
“
He
might
n't
mean
it
—
or
he
even
might
.
Mr.
George
,
will
you
order
him
to
leave
his
infernal
fire-arms
alone
,
and
go
away
?
”
Obedient
to
a
nod
from
the
trooper
,
Phil
retires
,
empty-handed
,
to
the
other
end
of
the
gallery
.
Mr.
Smallweed
,
reassured
,
falls
to
rubbing
his
legs
.
“
And
you
're
doing
well
,
Mr.
George
?
”
he
says
to
the
trooper
,
squarely
standing
faced-about
towards
him
with
his
broadsword
in
his
hand
.
“
You
are
prospering
,
please
the
Powers
?
”
Mr.
George
answers
with
a
cool
nod
,
adding
,
“
Go
on
.
You
have
not
come
to
say
that
,
I
know
.
”
“
You
are
so
sprightly
,
Mr.
George
,
”
returns
the
venerable
grandfather
.
“
You
are
such
good
company
.
”
“
Ha
ha
!
Go
on
!
”
says
Mr.
George
.
“
My
dear
friend
!
—
But
that
sword
looks
awful
gleaming
and
sharp
.
It
might
cut
somebody
,
by
accident
.
It
makes
me
shiver
,
Mr.
George
—
Curse
him
!
”
says
the
excellent
old
gentleman
apart
to
Judy
,
as
the
trooper
takes
a
step
or
two
away
to
lay
it
aside
.
“
He
owes
me
money
,
and
might
think
of
paying
off
all
scores
in
this
murdering
place
.
I
wish
your
Brimstone
grandmother
was
here
,
and
he
'd
shave
her
head
off
!
”
Mr.
George
,
returning
,
folds
his
arms
,
and
looking
down
at
the
old
man
,
sliding
every
moment
lower
and
lower
in
his
chair
,
says
quietly
,
“
Now
for
it
!
”
“
Ho
!
”
cries
Mr.
Smallweed
,
rubbing
his
hands
with
an
artful
chuckle
.
“
Yes
.
Now
for
it
.
Now
for
what
,
my
dear
friend
?
”
“
For
a
pipe
,
”
says
Mr.
George
;
who
with
great
composure
sets
his
chair
in
the
chimney-corner
,
takes
his
pipe
from
the
grate
,
fills
it
and
lights
it
,
and
falls
to
smoking
peacefully
.
This
tends
to
the
discomfiture
of
Mr.
Smallweed
,
who
finds
it
so
difficult
to
resume
his
object
,
whatever
it
may
be
,
that
he
becomes
exasperated
,
and
secretly
claws
the
air
with
an
impotent
vindictiveness
expressive
of
an
intense
desire
to
tear
and
rend
the
visage
of
Mr.
George
.
As
the
excellent
old
gentleman
's
nails
are
long
and
leaden
,
and
his
hands
lean
and
veinous
,
and
his
eyes
green
and
watery
;
and
,
over
and
above
this
,
as
he
continues
,
while
he
claws
,
to
slide
down
in
his
chair
and
to
collapse
into
a
shapeless
bundle
;
he
becomes
such
a
ghastly
spectacle
,
even
in
the
accustomed
eyes
of
Judy
,
that
that
young
virgin
pounces
at
him
with
something
more
than
the
ardor
of
affection
,
and
so
shakes
him
up
,
and
pats
and
pokes
him
in
divers
parts
of
his
body
,
but
particularly
in
that
part
which
the
science
of
self-defence
would
call
his
wind
,
that
in
his
grievous
distress
he
utters
enforced
sounds
like
a
paviour
's
rammer
.
When
Judy
has
by
these
means
set
him
up
again
in
his
chair
,
with
a
white
face
and
a
frosty
nose
(
but
still
clawing
)
,
she
stretches
out
her
weazen
forefinger
,
and
gives
Mr.
George
one
poke
in
the
back
.
The
trooper
raising
his
head
,
she
makes
another
poke
at
her
esteemed
grandfather
;
and
,
having
thus
brought
them
together
,
stares
rigidly
at
the
fire
.
“
Aye
,
aye
!
Ho
,
ho
!
U
—
u
—
u
—
ugh
!
”
chatters
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
swallowing
his
rage
.
“
My
dear
friend
!
”
(
still
clawing
)
.
“
I
tell
you
what
,
”
says
Mr.
George
.
“
If
you
want
to
converse
with
me
,
you
must
speak
out
.
I
am
one
of
the
Roughs
,
and
I
ca
n't
go
about
and
about
.
I
have
n't
the
art
to
do
it
.
I
am
not
clever
enough
.
It
do
n't
suit
me
.
When
you
go
winding
round
and
round
me
,
”
says
the
trooper
,
putting
his
pipe
between
his
lips
again
,
“
damme
,
if
I
do
n't
feel
as
if
I
was
being
smothered
!
”
And
he
inflates
his
broad
chest
to
its
utmost
extent
,
as
if
to
assure
himself
that
he
is
not
smothered
yet
.
“
If
you
have
come
to
give
me
a
friendly
call
,
”
continues
Mr.
George
,
“
I
am
obliged
to
you
;
how
are
you
?
If
you
have
come
to
see
whether
there
's
any
property
on
the
premises
,
look
about
you
;
you
are
welcome
.
If
you
want
to
out
with
something
,
out
with
it
!
”
The
blooming
Judy
,
without
removing
her
gaze
from
the
fire
,
gives
her
grandfather
one
ghostly
poke
.
“
You
see
!
It
's
her
opinion
,
too
.
And
why
the
devil
that
young
woman
wo
n't
sit
down
like
a
Christian
,
”
says
Mr.
George
,
with
his
eyes
musingly
fixed
on
Judy
,
“
I
ca
n't
comprehend
.
”
“
She
keeps
at
my
side
to
attend
to
me
,
sir
,
”
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
.
“
I
am
an
old
man
,
my
dear
Mr.
George
,
and
I
need
some
attention
.
I
can
carry
my
years
;
I
am
not
a
Brimstone
poll-parrot
;
”
(
suarling
and
looking
unconsciously
for
the
cushion
;
)
“
but
I
need
attention
,
my
dear
friend
.
”
“
Well
!
”
returns
the
trooper
,
wheeling
his
chair
to
face
the
old
man
.
“
Now
then
?
”
“
My
friend
in
the
city
,
Mr.
George
,
has
done
a
little
business
with
a
pupil
of
yours
.
”
“
Has
he
?
”
says
Mr.
George
.
“
I
am
sorry
to
hear
it
.
”
“
Yes
,
sir
.
”
Grandfather
Smallweed
rubs
his
legs
.
“
He
is
a
fine
young
soldier
now
,
Mr.
George
,
by
the
name
of
Carstone
.
Friends
came
forward
,
and
paid
it
all
up
,
honorable
.
”
“
Did
they
?
”
returns
Mr.
George
.
“
Do
you
think
your
friend
in
the
city
would
like
a
piece
of
advice
?
”
“
I
think
he
would
,
my
dear
friend
.
From
you
.
”
“
I
advise
him
,
then
,
to
do
no
more
business
in
that
quarter
.
There
's
no
more
to
be
got
by
it
.
The
young
gentleman
,
to
my
knowledge
,
is
brought
to
a
dead
halt
.
”
“
No
,
no
,
my
dear
friend
.
No
,
no
,
Mr.
George
.
No
,
no
,
no
,
sir
,
”
remonstrates
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
cunningly
rubbing
his
spare
legs
.
“
Not
quite
a
dead
halt
,
I
think
.
He
has
good
friends
,
and
he
is
good
for
his
pay
,
and
he
is
good
for
the
selling
price
of
his
commission
,
and
he
is
good
for
his
chance
in
a
lawsuit
,
and
he
is
good
for
his
chance
in
a
wife
,
and
—
oh
,
do
you
know
,
Mr.
George
,
I
think
my
friend
would
consider
the
young
gentleman
good
for
something
yet
!
”
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
turning
up
his
velvet
cap
,
and
scratching
his
ear
like
a
monkey
.
Mr.
George
,
who
has
put
aside
his
pipe
and
sits
with
an
arm
on
his
chair-back
,
beats
a
tattoo
on
the
ground
with
his
right
foot
,
as
if
he
were
not
particularly
pleased
with
the
turn
the
conversation
has
taken
.
“
But
to
pass
from
one
subject
to
another
,
”
resumes
Mr.
Smallweed
.
“
To
promote
the
conversation
,
as
a
joker
might
say
.
To
pass
,
Mr.
George
,
from
the
ensign
to
the
captain
.
”
“
What
are
you
up
to
,
now
?
”
asks
Mr.
George
,
pausing
with
a
frown
in
stroking
the
recollection
of
his
moustache
.
“
What
captain
?
”
“
Our
captain
.
The
captain
we
know
of
.
Captain
Hawdon
.
”
“
O
!
that
's
it
,
is
it
?
”
says
Mr.
George
,
with
a
low
whistle
,
as
he
sees
both
grandfather
and
grand-daughter
looking
hard
at
him
;
“
you
are
there
!
Well
?
what
about
it
?
Come
,
I
wo
n't
be
smothered
any
more
.
Speak
!
”
“
My
dear
friend
,
”
returns
the
old
man
,
“
I
was
applied
—
Judy
,
shake
me
up
a
little
!
—
I
was
applied
to
,
yesterday
,
about
the
captain
;
and
my
opinion
still
is
,
that
the
captain
is
not
dead
.
”
“
Bosh
!
”
observes
Mr.
George
.
“
What
was
your
remark
,
my
dear
friend
?
”
enquires
the
old
man
with
his
hand
to
his
ear
.
“
Bosh
!
”
“
Ho
!
”
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
.
“
Mr.
George
,
of
my
opinion
you
can
judge
for
yourself
,
according
to
the
questions
asked
of
me
,
and
the
reasons
given
for
asking
'
em
.
Now
,
what
do
you
think
the
lawyer
making
the
inquiries
wants
?
”
“
A
job
,
”
says
Mr.
George
.
“
Nothing
of
the
kind
!
”
“
Ca
n't
be
a
lawyer
,
then
,
”
says
Mr.
George
,
folding
his
arms
with
an
air
of
confirmed
resolution
.
“
My
dear
friend
,
he
is
a
lawyer
,
and
a
famous
one
.
He
wants
to
see
some
fragment
in
Captain
Hawdon
's
writing
.
He
do
n't
want
to
keep
it
.
He
only
wants
to
see
it
,
and
compare
it
with
a
writing
in
his
possession
.
”
“
Well
?
”
“
Well
,
Mr.
George
.
Happening
to
remember
the
advertisement
concerning
Captain
Hawdon
,
and
any
information
that
could
be
given
respecting
him
,
he
looked
it
up
and
came
to
me
—
just
as
you
did
,
my
dear
friend
.
Will
you
shake
hands
?
So
glad
you
came
,
that
day
!
I
should
have
missed
forming
such
a
friendship
,
if
you
had
n't
come
!
”
“
Well
,
Mr.
Smallweed
?
”
says
Mr.
George
again
,
after
going
through
the
ceremony
with
some
stiffness
.
“
I
had
no
such
thing
.
I
have
nothing
but
his
signature
.
Plague
pestilence
and
famine
,
battle
murder
and
sudden
death
upon
him
,
”
says
the
old
man
,
making
a
curse
out
of
one
of
his
few
remembrances
of
a
prayer
,
and
squeezing
up
his
velvet
cap
between
his
angry
hands
,
“
I
have
half
a
million
of
his
signatures
,
I
think
!
But
you
,
”
breathlessly
recovering
his
mildness
of
speech
,
as
Judy
re-adjusts
the
cap
on
his
skittle-ball
of
a
head
;
“
you
,
my
dear
Mr.
George
,
are
likely
to
have
some
letter
or
paper
that
would
suit
the
purpose
.
Anything
would
suit
the
purpose
,
written
in
the
hand
.
”
“
Some
writing
in
that
hand
,
”
says
the
trooper
,
pondering
,
“
may
be
,
I
have
.
”
“
My
dearest
friend
!
”
“
May
be
,
I
have
not
.
”
“
Ho
!
”
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
crest-fallen
.
“
But
if
I
had
bushels
of
it
,
I
would
not
show
as
much
as
would
make
a
cartridge
,
without
knowing
why
.
”
“
Sir
,
I
have
told
you
why
.
My
dear
Mr.
George
,
I
have
told
you
why
.
”
“
Not
enough
,
”
says
the
trooper
,
shaking
his
head
.
“
I
must
know
more
,
and
approve
it
.
”
“
Then
,
will
you
come
to
the
lawyer
?
My
dear
friend
,
will
you
come
and
see
the
gentleman
?
”
urges
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
pulling
out
a
lean
old
silver
watch
,
with
hands
like
the
legs
of
a
skeleton
.
“
I
told
him
it
was
probable
I
might
call
upon
him
,
between
ten
and
eleven
this
forenoon
;
and
it
's
now
half
after
ten
.
Will
you
come
and
see
the
gentleman
,
Mr.
George
?
”
“
Hum
!
”
says
he
,
gravely
.
“
I
do
n't
mind
that
.
Though
why
this
should
concern
you
so
much
,
I
do
n't
know
.
”
“
Everything
concerns
me
,
that
has
a
chance
in
it
of
bringing
anything
to
light
about
him
.
Did
n't
he
take
us
all
in
?
Did
n't
he
owe
us
immense
sums
,
all
round
?
Concern
me
?
Who
can
anything
about
him
concern
,
more
than
me
?
Not
,
my
dear
friend
,
”
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
lowering
his
tone
,
“
that
I
want
you
to
betray
anything
.
Far
from
it
.
Are
you
ready
to
come
,
my
dear
friend
?
”
“
Ay
!
I
'll
come
in
a
moment
.
I
promise
nothing
,
you
know
.
”
“
No
,
my
dear
Mr.
George
;
no.
”
“
And
you
mean
to
say
you
're
going
to
give
me
a
lift
to
this
place
,
wherever
it
is
,
without
charging
for
it
?
”
Mr.
George
enquires
,
getting
his
hat
,
and
thick
wash-leather
gloves
.
This
pleasantry
so
tickles
Mr.
Smallweed
,
that
he
laughs
,
long
and
low
,
before
the
fire
.
But
ever
while
he
laughs
,
he
glances
over
his
paralytic
shoulder
at
Mr.
George
,
and
eagerly
watches
him
as
he
unlocks
the
padlock
of
a
homely
cupboard
at
the
distant
end
of
the
gallery
,
looks
here
and
there
upon
the
higher
shelves
,
and
ultimately
takes
something
out
with
a
rustling
of
paper
,
folds
it
,
and
puts
it
in
his
breast
.
Then
Judy
pokes
Mr.
Smallweed
once
,
and
Mr.
Smallweed
pokes
Judy
once
.
“
I
am
ready
,
”
says
the
trooper
,
coming
back
.
“
Phil
,
you
can
carry
this
old
gentleman
to
his
coach
,
and
make
nothing
of
him
.
”
“
O
dear
me
!
O
Lord
!
Stop
a
moment
!
”
says
Mr.
Smallweed
.
“
He
's
so
very
prompt
!
Are
you
sure
you
can
do
it
carefully
,
my
worthy
man
?
”
Phil
makes
no
reply
;
but
seizing
the
chair
and
its
load
sidles
away
,
tightly
hugged
by
the
now
speechless
Mr.
Smallweed
,
and
bolts
along
the
passage
,
as
if
he
had
an
acceptable
commission
to
carry
the
old
gentleman
to
the
nearest
volcano
.
His
shorter
trust
,
however
,
terminating
at
the
cab
,
he
deposits
him
there
;
and
the
fair
Judy
takes
her
place
beside
him
,
and
the
chair
embellishes
the
roof
,
and
Mr.
George
takes
the
vacant
place
upon
the
box
.
Mr.
George
is
quite
confounded
by
the
spectacle
he
beholds
from
time
to
time
as
he
peeps
into
the
cab
,
through
the
window
behind
him
;
where
the
grim
Judy
is
always
motionless
,
and
the
old
gentleman
with
his
cap
over
one
eye
is
always
sliding
off
the
seat
into
the
straw
,
and
looking
upward
at
him
,
out
of
his
other
eye
,
with
a
helpless
expression
of
being
jolted
in
the
back
.
CHAPTER
XXVII
.
MORE
OLD
SOLDIERS
THAN
ONE
.
MR.
GEORGE
has
not
far
to
ride
with
folded
arms
upon
the
box
,
for
their
destination
is
Lincoln
's
Inn
Fields
.
When
the
driver
stops
his
horses
,
Mr.
George
alights
,
and
looking
in
at
the
window
,
says
:
“
What
,
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
's
your
man
,
is
he
?
”
“
Yes
,
my
dear
friend
.
Do
you
know
him
,
Mr.
George
?
”
“
Why
,
I
have
heard
of
him
—
seen
him
too
,
I
think
.
But
I
do
n't
know
him
,
and
he
do
n't
know
me
.
”
There
ensues
the
carrying
of
Mr.
Smallweed
up-stairs
;
which
is
done
to
perfection
with
the
trooper
's
help
.
He
is
borne
into
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
's
great
room
,
and
deposited
on
the
Turkey
rug
before
the
fire
.
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
is
not
within
at
the
present
moment
,
but
will
be
back
directly
.
The
occupant
of
the
pew
in
the
hall
,
having
said
thus
much
,
stirs
the
fire
,
and
leaves
the
triumvirate
to
warm
themselves
.
Mr.
George
is
mightily
curious
in
respect
of
the
room
.
He
looks
up
at
the
painted
ceiling
,
looks
round
at
the
old
law-books
,
contemplates
the
portraits
of
the
great
clients
,
reads
aloud
the
names
on
the
boxes
.
“
‘Sir
Leicester
Dedlock
,
Baronet
,
’
”
Mr.
George
reads
thoughtfully
.
“
Ha
!
‘Manor
of
Chesney
Wold.’
Humph
!
”
Mr.
George
stands
looking
at
these
boxes
a
long
while
—
as
if
they
were
pictures
—
and
comes
back
to
the
fire
,
repeating
,
“
Sir
Leicester
Dedlock
,
Baronet
,
and
Manor
of
Chesney
Wold
,
hey
?
”
“
Worth
a
mint
of
money
,
Mr.
George
!
”
whispers
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
rubbing
his
legs
.
“
Powerfully
rich
!
”
“
Who
do
you
mean
?
This
old
gentleman
,
or
the
Baronet
?
”
“
This
gentleman
,
this
gentleman
.
”
“
So
I
have
heard
;
and
knows
a
thing
or
two
,
I
'll
hold
a
wager
.
Not
bad
quarters
either
,
”
says
Mr.
George
,
looking
round
again
.
“
See
the
strong
box
,
yonder
!
”
This
reply
is
cut
short
by
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
's
arrival
.
There
is
no
change
in
him
,
of
course
.
Rustily
drest
,
with
his
spectacles
in
his
hand
,
and
their
very
case
worn
threadbare
.
In
manner
,
close
and
dry
.
In
voice
,
husky
and
low
.
In
face
,
watchful
behind
a
blind
;
habitually
not
uncensorious
and
contemptuous
perhaps
.
The
peerage
may
have
warmer
worshippers
and
faithfuller
believers
than
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
after
all
,
if
everything
were
known
.
“
Good
morning
,
Mr.
Smallweed
,
good
morning
!
”
he
says
as
he
comes
in
.
“
You
have
brought
the
serjeant
,
I
see
.
Sit
down
,
serjeant
.
”
As
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
takes
off
his
gloves
and
puts
them
in
his
hat
,
he
looks
with
half-closed
eyes
across
the
room
to
where
the
trooper
stands
,
and
says
within
himself
perchance
,
“
You
'll
do
,
my
friend
!
”
“
Sit
down
,
serjeant
,
”
he
repeats
,
as
he
comes
to
his
table
,
which
is
set
on
one
side
of
the
fire
,
and
takes
his
easy
chair
.
“
Cold
and
raw
this
morning
,
cold
and
raw
!
”
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
warms
before
the
bars
,
alternately
,
the
palms
and
knuckles
of
his
hands
,
and
looks
(
from
behind
that
blind
which
is
always
down
)
at
the
trio
sitting
in
a
little
semicircle
before
him
.
“
Now
,
I
can
feel
what
I
am
about
!
”
(
as
perhaps
he
can
in
two
senses
)
“
Mr.
Smallweed
.
”
The
old
gentleman
is
newly
shaken
up
by
Judy
,
to
bear
his
part
in
the
conversation
.
“
You
have
brought
our
good
friend
the
serjeant
,
I
see
.
”
“
Yes
,
sir
,
”
returns
Mr.
Smallweed
,
very
servile
to
the
lawyer
's
wealth
and
influence
.
“
And
what
does
the
serjeant
say
about
this
business
?
”
“
Mr.
George
,
”
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
with
a
tremulous
wave
of
his
shrivelled
hand
,
“
this
is
the
gentleman
,
sir
.
”
Mr.
George
salutes
the
gentleman
;
but
otherwise
sits
bolt
upright
and
profoundly
silent
—
very
forward
in
his
chair
,
as
if
the
full
complement
of
regulation
appendages
for
a
field
day
hung
about
him
.
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
proceeds
:
“
Well
,
George
?
—
I
believe
your
name
is
George
?
”
“
It
is
so
,
sir
.
”
“
What
do
you
say
,
George
?
”
“
I
ask
your
pardon
,
sir
,
”
returns
the
trooper
,
“
but
I
should
wish
to
know
what
you
say
?
”
“
Do
you
mean
in
point
of
reward
?
”
“
I
mean
in
point
of
everything
,
sir
.
”
This
is
so
very
trying
to
Mr.
Smallweed
's
temper
,
that
he
suddenly
breaks
out
with
“
You
're
a
Brimstone
beast
!
”
and
as
suddenly
asks
pardon
of
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
;
excusing
himself
for
this
slip
of
the
tongue
,
by
saying
to
Judy
,
“
I
was
thinking
of
your
grandmother
,
my
dear
.
”
“
I
supposed
,
serjeant
,
”
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
resumes
,
as
he
leans
on
one
side
of
his
chair
and
crosses
his
legs
,
“
that
Mr.
Smallweed
might
have
sufficiently
explained
the
matter
.
It
lies
in
the
smallest
compass
,
however
.
You
served
under
Captain
Hawdon
at
one
time
,
and
were
his
attendant
in
illness
,
and
rendered
him
many
little
services
,
and
were
rather
in
his
confidence
,
I
am
told
.
That
is
so
,
is
it
not
?
”
“
Yes
,
sir
,
that
is
so
,
”
says
Mr.
George
,
with
military
brevity
.
“
Therefore
you
may
happen
to
have
in
your
possession
something
—
anything
,
no
matter
what
—
accounts
,
instructions
,
orders
,
a
letter
,
anything
—
in
Captain
Hawdon
's
writing
.
I
wish
to
compare
his
writing
with
some
that
I
have
.
If
you
can
give
me
the
opportunity
,
you
shall
be
rewarded
for
your
trouble
.
Three
,
four
,
five
,
guineas
,
you
would
consider
handsome
,
I
dare
say
.
”
“
Noble
,
my
dear
friend
!
”
cries
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
screwing
up
his
eyes
.
“
If
not
,
say
how
much
more
,
in
your
conscience
as
a
soldier
,
you
can
demand
.
There
is
no
need
for
you
to
part
with
the
writing
,
against
your
inclination
—
though
I
should
prefer
to
have
it
.
”
Mr.
George
sits
squared
in
exactly
the
same
attitude
,
looks
at
the
ground
,
looks
at
the
painted
ceiling
,
and
says
never
a
word
.
The
irascible
Mr.
Smallweed
scratches
the
air
.
“
The
question
is
,
”
says
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
in
his
methodical
,
subdued
,
uninterested
way
,
“
first
,
whether
you
have
any
of
Captain
Hawdon
's
writing
?
”
“
First
,
whether
I
have
any
of
Captain
Hawdon
's
writing
,
sir
,
”
repeats
Mr.
George
.
“
Secondly
,
what
will
satisfy
you
for
the
trouble
of
producing
it
?
”
“
Secondly
,
what
will
satisfy
me
for
the
trouble
of
producing
it
,
sir
,
”
repeats
Mr.
George
.
“
Thirdly
,
you
can
judge
for
yourself
whether
it
is
at
all
like
that
,
”
says
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
suddenly
handing
him
some
sheets
of
written
paper
tied
together
.
“
Whether
it
is
at
all
like
that
,
sir
.
Just
so
,
”
repeats
Mr.
George
.
All
three
repetitions
Mr.
George
pronounces
in
a
mechanical
manner
,
looking
straight
at
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
;
nor
does
he
so
much
as
glance
at
the
affidavit
in
Jarndyce
and
Jarndyce
,
that
has
been
given
to
him
for
his
inspection
(
though
he
still
holds
it
in
his
hand
)
,
but
continues
to
look
at
the
lawyer
with
an
air
of
troubled
meditation
.
“
Well
?
”
says
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
.
“
What
do
you
say
?
”
“
Well
,
sir
,
”
replies
Mr.
George
,
rising
erect
and
looking
immense
,
“
I
would
rather
,
if
you
'll
excuse
me
,
have
nothing
to
do
with
this
.
”
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
outwardly
quite
undisturbed
,
demands
“
Why
not
?
”
“
Why
,
sir
,
”
returns
the
trooper
.
“
Except
on
military
compulsion
,
I
am
not
a
man
of
business
.
Among
civilians
I
am
what
they
call
in
Scotland
a
ne'er-do-weel
.
I
have
no
head
for
papers
,
sir
.
I
can
stand
any
fire
better
than
a
fire
of
cross
questions
.
I
mentioned
to
Mr.
Smallweed
,
only
an
hour
or
so
ago
,
that
when
I
come
into
things
of
this
kind
I
feel
as
if
I
was
being
smothered
.
And
that
is
my
sensation
,
”
says
Mr.
George
,
looking
round
upon
the
company
,
“
at
the
present
moment
.
”
With
that
,
he
takes
three
strides
forward
to
replace
the
papers
on
the
lawyer
's
table
,
and
three
strides
backward
to
resume
his
former
station
:
where
he
stands
perfectly
upright
,
now
looking
at
the
ground
,
and
now
at
the
painted
ceiling
,
with
his
hands
behind
him
as
if
to
prevent
himself
from
accepting
any
other
document
whatever
.
Under
this
provocation
,
Mr.
Smallweed
's
favorite
adjective
of
disparagement
is
so
close
to
his
tongue
,
that
he
begins
the
words
“
my
dear
friend
”
with
the
monosyllable
“
Brim
;
”
thus
converting
the
possessive
pronoun
into
Brimmy
,
and
appearing
to
have
an
impediment
in
his
speech
.
Once
past
this
difficulty
,
however
,
he
exhorts
his
dear
friend
in
the
tenderest
manner
not
to
be
rash
,
but
to
do
what
so
eminent
a
gentleman
requires
,
and
to
do
it
with
a
good
grace
:
confident
that
it
must
be
unobjectionable
as
well
as
profitable
.
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
merely
utters
an
occasional
sentence
,
as
“
You
are
the
best
judge
of
your
own
interest
,
serjeant
.
”
“
Take
care
you
do
no
harm
by
this
.
”
“
Please
yourself
,
please
yourself
.
”
“
If
you
know
what
you
mean
,
that
's
quite
enough
.
”
These
he
utters
with
an
appearance
of
perfect
indifference
,
as
he
looks
over
the
papers
on
his
table
,
and
prepares
to
write
a
letter
.
Mr.
George
looks
distrustfully
from
the
painted
ceiling
to
the
ground
,
from
the
ground
to
Mr.
Smallweed
,
from
Mr.
Smallweed
to
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
and
from
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
to
the
painted
ceiling
again
:
often
in
his
perplexity
changing
the
leg
on
which
he
rests
.
“
I
do
assure
you
,
sir
,
”
says
Mr.
George
,
“
not
to
say
it
offensively
,
that
between
you
and
Mr.
Smallweed
here
,
I
really
am
being
smothered
fifty
times
over
.
I
really
am
,
sir
.
I
am
not
a
match
for
you
gentlemen
.
Will
you
allow
me
to
ask
,
why
you
want
to
see
the
captain
's
hand
,
in
the
case
that
I
could
find
any
specimen
of
it
?
”
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
quietly
