twoplates
,
and
smelt
very
nice
.
As
it
rained
after
dinner
,
and
they
could
n't
go
out
walking
on
the
beach
,
and
Mrs.
Pipchin
's
constitution
required
rest
after
chops
,
they
went
away
with
Berry
(
otherwise
Berinthia
)
to
the
Dungeon
;
an
empty
room
looking
out
upon
a
chalk
wall
and
a
water-butt
,
and
made
ghastly
by
a
ragged
fireplace
without
any
stove
in
it
.
Enlivened
by
company
,
however
,
this
was
the
best
place
after
all
;
for
Berry
played
with
them
there
,
and
seemed
to
enjoy
a
game
at
romps
as
much
as
they
did
;
until
Mrs.
Pipchin
knocking
angrily
at
the
wall
,
like
the
Cock
Lane
Ghost
revived
,
they
left
off
,
and
Berry
told
them
stories
in
a
whisper
until
twilight
.
For
tea
there
was
plenty
of
milk
and
water
,
and
bread
and
butter
,
with
a
little
black
tea-pot
for
Mrs.
Pipchin
and
Berry
,
and
buttered
toast
unlimited
for
Mrs.
Pipchin
,
which
was
brought
in
,
hot
and
hot
,
like
the
chops
.
Though
Mrs.
Pipchin
got
very
greasy
,
outside
,
over
this
dish
,
it
did
n't
seem
to
lubricate
her
internally
,
at
all
;
for
she
was
as
fierce
as
ever
,
and
the
hard
grey
eye
knew
no
softening
.
After
tea
,
Berry
brought
out
a
little
work-box
,
with
the
Royal
Pavilion
on
the
lid
,
and
fell
to
working
busily
;
while
Mrs.
Pipchin
,
having
put
on
her
spectacles
and
opened
a
great
volume
bound
in
green
baize
,
began
to
nod
.
And
whenever
Mrs.
Pipchin
caught
herself
falling
forward
into
the
fire
,
and
woke
up
,
she
filliped
Master
Bitherstone
on
the
nose
for
nodding
too
.
At
last
it
was
the
children
's
bedtime
,
and
after
prayers
they
went
to
bed
.
As
little
Miss
Pankey
was
afraid
of
sleeping
alone
in
the
dark
,
Mrs.
Pipchin
always
made
a
point
of
driving
her
up
stairs
herself
,
like
a
sheep
;
and
it
was
cheerful
to
hear
Miss
Pankey
moaning
long
afterwards
,
in
the
least
eligible
chamber
,
and
Mrs.
Pipchin
now
and
then
going
in
to
shake
her
.
At
about
halfpast
nine
o'clock
the
odour
of
a
warm
sweet-bread
(
Mrs.
Pipchin
's
constitution
would
n't
go
to
sleep
without
sweet-bread
)
diversified
the
prevailing
fragrance
of
the
house
,
which
Mrs.
Wickam
said
was
`
a
smell
of
building
;
´
and
slumber
fell
upon
the
Castle
shortly
after
.
The
breakfast
next
morning
was
like
the
tea
over
night
,
except
that
Mrs.
Pipchin
took
her
roll
instead
of
toast
,
and
seemed
a
little
more
irate
when
it
was
over
.
Master
Bitherstone
read
aloud
to
the
rest
a
pedigree
from
Genesis
(
judi-ciously
selected
by
Mrs.
Pipchin
)
,
getting
over
the
names
with
the
ease
and
clearness
of
a
person
tumbling
up
the
treadmill
.
That
done
,
Miss
Pankey
was
borne
away
to
be
shampoo
'd
;
and
Master
Bitherstone
to
have
something
else
done
to
him
with
salt
water
,
from
which
he
always
returned
very
blue
and
dejected
.
Paul
and
Florence
went
out
in
the
meantime
on
the
beach
with
Wickam
—
who
was
constantly
in
tears
—
and
at
about
noon
Mrs.
Pipchin
presided
over
some
Early
Readings
.
It
being
a
part
of
Mrs.
Pipchin
's
system
not
to
encourage
a
child
's
mind
to
develop
and
expand
itself
like
a
young
flower
,
but
to
open
it
by
force
like
an
oyster
,
the
moral
of
these
lessons
was
usually
of
a
violent
and
stunning
character
:
the
hero
—
a
naughty
boy
—
seldom
,
in
the
mildest
catastrophe
,
being
finished
off
by
anything
less
than
a
lion
,
or
a
bear
.
Such
was
life
at
Mrs.
Pipchin
's
.
On
Saturday
Mr.
Dombey
came
down
;
and
Florence
and
Paul
would
go
to
his
Hotel
,
and
have
tea
.
They
passed
the
whole
of
Sunday
with
him
,
and
generally
rode
out
before
dinner
;
and
on
these
occasions
Mr.
Dombey
seemed
to
grow
,
like
Falstaff
's
assailants
,
and
instead
of
being
one
man
in
buckram
,
to
become
a
dozen
.
Sunday
evening
was
the
most
melancholy
evening
in
the
week
;
for
Mrs.
Pipchin
always
made
a
point
of
being
particularly
cross
on
Sunday
nights
.
Miss
Pankey
was
generally
brought
back
from
an
aunt
's
at
Rottingdean
,
in
deep
distress
;
and
Master
Bitherstone
,
whose
relatives
were
all
in
India
,
and
who
was
required
to
sit
,
between
the
services
,
in
an
erect
position
with
his
head
against
the
parlour
wall
,
neither
moving
hand
nor
foot
,
suffered
so
acutely
in
his
young
spirits
that
he
once
asked
Florence
,
on
a
Sunday
night
,
if
she
could
give
him
any
idea
of
the
way
back
to
Bengal
.
But
it
was
generally
said
that
Mrs.
Pipchin
was
a
woman
of
system
with
children
;
and
no
doubt
she
was
.
Certainly
the
wild
ones
went
home
tame
enough
,
after
sojourning
for
a
few
months
beneath
her
hospitable
roof
.
It
was
generally
said
,
too
,
that
it
was
highly
creditable
of
Mrs.
Pipchin
to
have
devoted
herself
to
this
way
of
life
,
and
to
have
made
such
a
sacrifice
of
her
feelings
,
and
such
a
resolute
stand
against
her
troubles
,
when
Mr.
Pipchin
broke
his
heart
in
the
Peruvian
mines
.
At
this
exemplary
old
lady
,
Paul
would
sit
staring
in
his
little
arm-chair
by
the
fire
,
for
any
length
of
time
.
He
never
seemed
to
know
what
weariness
was
,
when
he
was
looking
fixedly
at
Mrs.
Pipchin
.
He
was
not
fond
of
her
;
he
was
not
afraid
of
her
;
but
in
those
old
,
old
moods
of
his
,
she
seemed
to
have
a
grotesque
attraction
for
him
.
There
he
would
sit
,
looking
at
her
,
and
warming
his
hands
,
and
looking
at
her
,
until
he
sometimes
quite
confounded
Mrs.
Pipchin
,
Ogress
as
she
was
.
Once
she
asked
him
,
when
they
were
alone
,
what
he
was
thinking
about
.
`
You
,
´
said
Paul
,
without
the
least
reserve
.
`
And
what
are
you
thinking
about
me
?
´
asked
Mrs.
Pipchin
.
`
I
'm
thinking
how
old
you
must
be
,
´
said
Paul
.
`
You
must
n't
say
such
things
as
that
,
young
gentleman
,
´
returned
the
dame
.
`
That
'll
never
do
.
´
`
Why
not
?
´
asked
Paul
.
`
Because
it
's
not
polite
,
´
said
Mrs.
Pipchin
,
snappishly
.
`
Not
polite
?
´
said
Paul
.
`
No.
´
`
It
's
not
polite
,
´
said
Paul
,
innocently
,
`
to
eat
all
the
mutton-chops
and
toast
,
Wickam
says
.
´
`
Wickam
,
´
retorted
Mrs.
Pipchin
,
colouring
,
`
is
a
wicked
,
impudent
,
boldfaced
hussy
.
´
`
What
's
that
?
´
inquired
Paul
.
`
Never
you
mind
,
Sir
,
´
retorted
Mrs.
Pipchin
.
`
Remember
the
story
of
the
little
boy
that
was
gored
to
death
by
a
mad
bull
for
asking
questions
.
´
`
If
the
bull
was
mad
,
´
said
Paul
,
`
how
did
he
know
that
the
boy
had
asked
questions
?
Nobody
can
go
and
whisper
secrets
to
a
mad
bull
.
I
do
n't
believe
that
story
.
´
`
You
do
n't
believe
it
,
Sir
?
´
repeated
Mrs.
Pipchin
,
amazed
.
`
No
,
´
said
Paul
.
`
Not
if
it
should
happen
to
have
been
a
tame
bull
,
you
little
Infidel
?
´
said
Mrs.
Pipchen
.
As
Paul
had
not
considered
the
subject
in
that
light
,
and
had
founded
his
conclusions
on
the
alleged
lunacy
of
the
bull
,
he
allowed
himself
to
be
put
down
for
the
present
.
But
he
sat
turning
it
over
in
his
mind
,
with
such
an
obvious
intention
of
fixing
Mrs.
Pipchin
presently
,
that
even
that
hardy
old
lady
deemed
it
prudent
to
retreat
until
he
should
have
forgotten
the
subject
.
From
that
time
,
Mrs.
Pipchin
appeared
to
have
something
of
the
same
odd
kind
of
attraction
towards
Paul
,
as
Paul
had
towards
her
.
She
would
make
him
move
his
chair
to
her
side
of
the
fire
,
instead
of
sitting
opposite
;
and
there
he
would
remain
in
a
nook
between
Mrs.
Pipchin
and
the
fender
,
with
all
the
light
of
his
little
face
absorbed
into
the
black
bombazeen
drapery
,
studying
every
line
and
wrinkle
of
her
countenance
,
and
peering
at
the
hard
grey
eye
,
until
Mrs.
Pipchin
was
sometimes
fain
to
shut
it
on
pretence
of
dozing
.
Mrs.
Pipchin
had
an
old
black
cat
,
who
generally
lay
coiled
upon
the
centre
foot
of
the
fender
,
purring
egotistically
,
and
winking
at
the
fire
until
the
contracted
pupils
of
his
eyes
were
like
two
notes
of
admiration
.
The
good
old
lady
might
have
been
—
not
to
record
it
disrespectfully
—
a
witch
,
and
Paul
and
the
cat
her
two
familiars
,
as
they
all
sat
by
the
fire
together
.
It
would
have
been
quite
in
keeping
with
the
appearance
of
the
party
if
they
had
all
sprung
up
the
chimney
in
a
high
wind
one
night
,
and
never
been
heard
of
any
more
.
This
,
however
,
never
came
to
pass
.
The
cat
,
and
Paul
,
and
Mrs.
Pipchin
,
were
constantly
to
be
found
in
their
usual
places
after
dark
;
and
Paul
,
eschewing
the
companionship
of
Master
Bitherstone
,
went
on
studying
Mrs.
Pipchin
,
and
the
cat
,
and
the
fire
,
night
after
night
,
as
if
they
were
a
book
of
necromancy
,
in
three
volumes
.
Mrs.
Wickam
put
her
own
construction
on
Paul
's
eccentricities
:
and
being
confirmed
in
her
low
spirits
by
a
perplexed
view
of
chimneys
from
the
room
where
she
was
accustomed
to
sit
,
and
by
the
noise
of
the
wind
,
and
by
the
general
dulness
(
gashliness
was
Mrs.
Wickam
's
strong
expression
)
of
her
present
life
,
deduced
the
most
dismal
reflections
from
the
foregoing
premises
.
It
was
a
part
of
Mrs.
Pipchin
's
policy
to
prevent
her
own
`
young
hussy
'
—
that
was
Mrs.
Pipchin
's
generic
name
for
female
servant
—
from
communicating
with
Mrs.
Wickam
:
to
which
end
she
devoted
much
of
her
time
to
concealing
herself
behind
doors
,
and
springing
out
on
that
devoted
maiden
,
whenever
she
made
an
approach
towards
Mrs.
Wickam
's
apartment
.
But
Berry
was
free
to
hold
what
converse
she
could
in
that
quarter
consistently
with
the
discharge
of
the
multifarious
duties
at
which
she
toiled
incessantly
from
morning
to
night
;
and
to
Berry
Mrs.
Wickam
unburdened
her
mind
.
`
What
a
pretty
fellow
he
is
when
he
's
asleep
!
´
said
Berry
,
stopping
to
look
at
Paul
in
bed
,
one
night
when
she
took
up
Mrs.
Wickam
's
supper
.
`
Ah
!
´
sighed
Mrs.
Wickam
.
`
He
need
be
.
´
`
Why
,
he
's
not
ugly
when
he
's
awake
,
´
observed
Berry
.
`
No
,
Ma'am
.
Oh
,
no.
No
more
was
my
uncle
's
Betsey
Jane
,
´
said
Mrs.
Wickam
.
Berry
looked
as
if
she
would
like
to
trace
the
connexion
of
ideas
between
Paul
Dombey
and
Mrs.
Wickam
's
Uncle
's
Betsey
Jane
.
`
My
uncle
's
wife
,
´
Mrs.
Wickam
went
on
to
say
,
`
died
just
like
his
mama
.
My
uncle
's
child
took
on
just
as
Master
Paul
do
.
My
uncle
's
child
made
people
's
blood
run
cold
,
sometimes
,
she
did
!
´
R
`
How
!
´
asked
Berry
.
`
I
would
n't
have
sat
up
all
night
alone
with
Betsey
Jane
!
´
said
Mrs.
Wickam
,
`
not
if
you
'd
have
put
Wickam
into
business
next
morning
for
himself
.
I
could
n't
have
done
it
,
Miss
Berry
.
´
Miss
Berry
naturally
asked
why
not
?
But
Mrs.
Wickam
,
agreeably
to
the
usage
of
some
ladies
in
her
condition
,
pursued
her
own
branch
of
the
subject
without
any
compunction
.
`
Betsey
Jane
,
´
said
Mrs.
Wickam
,
`
was
as
sweet
a
child
as
I
could
wish
to
see
.
I
could
n't
wish
to
see
a
sweeter
.
Everything
that
a
child
could
have
in
the
way
of
illnesses
,
Betsey
Jane
had
come
through
.
The
cramps
was
as
common
to
her
,
´
said
Mrs.
Wickam
,
`
as
biles
is
to
yourself
,
Miss
Berry
.
´
Miss
Berry
involuntarily
wrinkled
her
nose
.
`
But
Betsey
Jane
,
´
said
Mrs.
Wickam
,
lowering
her
voice
,
and
looking
round
the
room
,
and
towards
Paul
in
bed
,
`
had
been
minded
,
in
her
cradle
,
by
her
departed
mother
.
I
could
n't
say
how
,
nor
I
could
n't
say
when
,
nor
I
could
n't
say
whether
the
dear
child
knew
it
or
not
,
but
Betsey
Jane
had
been
watched
by
her
mother
,
Miss
Berry
!
You
may
say
nonsense
!
I
a
n't
offended
,
Miss.
I
hope
you
may
be
able
to
think
in
your
own
conscience
that
it
is
nonsense
;
you
'll
find
your
spirits
all
the
better
for
it
in
this
—
you
'll
excuse
my
being
so
free
—
in
this
burying-ground
of
a
place
;
which
is
wearing
of
me
down
.
Master
Paul
's
a
little
restless
in
his
sleep
.
Pat
his
back
,
if
you
please
.
´
`
Of
course
you
think
,
´
said
Berry
,
gently
doing
what
she
was
asked
,
`
that
he
has
been
nursed
by
his
mother
,
too
?
´
`
Betsey
Jane
,
´
returned
Mrs.
Wickam
in
her
most
solemn
tones
,
`
was
put
upon
as
that
child
has
been
put
upon
,
and
changed
as
that
child
has
changed
.
I
have
seen
her
sit
,
often
and
often
,
think
,
think
,
thinking
,
like
him
.
I
have
seen
her
look
,
often
and
often
,
old
,
old
,
old
,
like
him
.
I
have
heard
her
,
many
a
time
,
talk
just
like
him
.
I
consider
that
child
and
Betsey
Jane
on
the
same
footing
entirely
,
Miss
Berry
.
´
`
Is
your
uncle
's
child
alive
?
´
asked
Berry
.
`
Yes
,
Miss
,
she
is
alive
,
´
returned
Mrs.
Wickam
with
an
air
of
triumph
,
for
it
was
evident
Miss
Berry
expected
the
reverse
;
`
and
is
married
to
a
silverchaser
.
Oh
yes
,
Miss
,
she
is
alive
,
´
said
Mrs.
Wickam
,
laying
strong
stress
on
her
nominative
case
.
It
being
clear
that
somebody
was
dead
,
Mrs.
Pipchin
's
niece
inquired
who
it
was
.
`
I
would
n't
wish
to
make
you
uneasy
,
´
returned
Mrs.
Wickam
,
pursuing
her
supper
.
`
Do
n't
ask
me
.
´
This
was
the
surest
way
of
being
asked
again
.
Miss
Berry
repeated
her
question
,
therefore
;
and
after
some
resistance
,
and
reluctance
,
Mrs.
Wickam
laid
down
her
knife
,
and
again
glancing
round
the
room
and
at
Paul
in
bed
,
replied
:
`
She
took
fancies
to
people
;
whimsical
fancies
,
some
of
them
;
others
,
affections
that
one
might
expect
to
see
—
only
stronger
than
common
.
They
all
died
.
´
This
was
so
very
unexpected
and
awful
to
Mrs.
Pipchin
's
niece
,
that
she
sat
upright
on
the
hard
edge
of
the
bedstead
,
breathing
short
,
and
surveying
her
informant
with
looks
of
undisguised
alarm
.
Mrs.
Wickam
shook
her
left
fore-finger
stealthily
towards
the
bed
where
Florence
lay
;
then
turned
it
upside
down
,
and
made
several
emphatic
points
at
the
floor
;
immediately
below
which
was
the
parlour
in
which
Mrs.
Pipchin
habitually
consumed
the
toast
.
`
Remember
my
words
,
Miss
Berry
,
´
said
Mrs.
Wickam
,
`
and
be
thankful
that
Master
Paul
is
not
too
fond
of
you
.
I
am
,
that
he
's
not
too
fond
of
me
,
I
assure
you
;
though
there
is
n't
much
to
live
for
—
you
'll
excuse
my
being
so
free
—
in
this
jail
of
a
house
!
´
Miss
Berry
's
emotion
might
have
led
to
her
patting
Paul
too
hard
on
the
back
,
or
might
have
produced
a
cessation
of
that
soothing
monotony
,
but
he
turned
in
his
bed
just
now
,
and
,
presently
awaking
,
sat
up
in
it
with
his
hair
hot
and
wet
from
the
effects
of
some
childish
dream
,
and
asked
for
Florence
.
She
was
out
of
her
own
bed
at
the
first
sound
of
his
voice
;
and
bending
over
his
pillow
immediately
,
sang
him
to
sleep
again
.
Mrs.
Wickam
shaking
her
head
,
and
letting
fall
several
tears
,
pointed
out
the
little
group
to
Berry
,
and
turned
her
eyes
up
to
the
ceiling
.
`
Good
night
,
Miss
!
´
said
Wickam
,
softly
.
`
Good
night
!
Your
aunt
is
an
old
lady
,
Miss
Berry
,
and
it
's
what
you
must
have
looked
for
,
often
.
´
This
consolatory
farewell
,
Mrs.
Wickam
accompanied
with
a
look
of
heartfelt
anguish
;
and
being
left
alone
with
the
two
children
again
,
and
becoming
conscious
that
the
wind
was
blowing
mournfully
,
she
indulged
in
melancholy
—
that
cheapest
and
most
accessible
of
luxuries
—
until
she
was
overpowered
by
slumber
.
Although
the
niece
of
Mrs.
Pipchin
did
not
expect
to
find
that
exemplary
dragon
prostrate
on
the
hearth-rug
when
she
went
down
stairs
,
she
was
relieved
to
find
her
unusually
fractious
and
severe
,
and
with
every
present
appearance
of
intending
to
live
a
long
time
to
be
a
comfort
to
all
who
knew
her
.
Nor
had
she
any
symptoms
of
declining
,
in
the
course
of
the
ensuing
week
,
when
the
constitutional
viands
still
continued
to
disappear
in
regular
succession
,
notwithstanding
that
Paul
studied
her
as
attentively
as
ever
,
and
occupied
his
usual
seat
between
the
black
skirts
and
the
fender
,
with
unwavering
constancy
.
But
as
Paul
himself
was
no
stronger
at
the
expiration
of
that
time
than
he
had
been
on
his
first
arrival
,
though
he
looked
much
healthier
in
the
face
,
a
little
carriage
was
got
for
him
,
in
which
he
could
lie
at
his
ease
,
with
an
alphabet
and
other
elementary
works
of
reference
,
and
be
wheeled
down
to
the
sea-side
.
Consistent
in
his
odd
tastes
,
the
child
set
aside
a
ruddy-faced
lad
who
was
proposed
as
the
drawer
of
this
carriage
,
and
selected
,
instead
,
his
grandfather
—
a
weazen
,
old
,
crab-faced
man
,
in
a
suit
of
battered
oilskin
,
who
had
got
tough
and
stringy
from
long
pickling
in
salt
water
,
and
who
smelt
like
a
weedy
sea-beach
when
the
tide
is
out
.
With
this
notable
attendant
to
pull
him
along
,
and
Florence
always
walking
by
his
side
,
and
the
despondent
Wickam
bringing
up
the
rear
,
he
went
down
to
the
margin
of
the
ocean
every
day
;
and
there
he
would
sit
or
lie
in
his
carriage
for
hours
together
:
never
so
distressed
as
by
the
company
of
children
—
Florence
alone
excepted
,
always
.
`
Go
away
,
if
you
please
,
´
he
would
say
to
any
child
who
came
to
bear
him
company
.
`
Thank
you
,
but
I
do
n't
want
you
.
´
Some
small
voice
,
near
his
ear
,
would
ask
him
how
he
was
,
perhaps
.
`
I
am
very
well
,
I
thank
you
,
´
he
would
answer
.
`
But
you
had
better
go
and
play
,
if
you
please
.
´
Then
he
would
turn
his
head
,
and
watch
the
child
away
,
and
say
to
Florence
,
`
We
do
n't
want
any
others
,
do
we
?
Kiss
me
,
Floy
.
´
He
had
even
a
dislike
,
at
such
times
,
to
the
company
of
Wickam
,
and
was
well
pleased
when
she
strolled
away
,
as
she
generally
did
,
to
pick
up
shells
and
acquaintances
.
His
favourite
spot
was
quite
a
lonely
one
,
far
away
from
most
loungers
;
and
with
Florence
sitting
by
his
side
at
work
,
or
reading
to
him
,
or
talking
to
him
,
and
the
wind
blowing
on
his
face
,
and
the
water
coming
up
among
the
wheels
of
his
bed
,
he
wanted
nothing
more
.
`
Floy
,
´
he
said
one
day
,
`
where
's
India
,
where
that
boy
's
friends
live
?
´
`
Oh
,
it
's
a
long
,
long
distance
off
,
´
said
Florence
,
raising
her
eyes
from
her
work
.
`
Weeks
off
?
´
asked
Paul
.
`
Yes
,
dear
.
Many
weeks
´
journey
,
night
and
day
.
´
`
If
you
were
in
India
,
Floy
,
´
said
Paul
,
after
being
silent
for
a
minute
,
`
I
should
—
what
is
that
Mama
did
?
I
forget
.
´
`
Loved
me
!
´
answered
Florence
.
`
No
,
no.
Do
n't
I
love
you
now
,
Floy
?
What
is
it
?
—
Died
.
If
you
were
in
India
,
I
should
die
,
Floy
.
´
She
hurriedly
put
her
work
aside
,
and
laid
her
head
down
on
his
pillow
,
caressing
him
.
And
so
would
she
,
she
said
,
if
he
were
there
.
He
would
be
better
soon
.
`
Oh
!
I
am
a
great
deal
better
now
!
´
he
answered
.
`
I
do
n't
mean
that
.
I
mean
that
I
should
die
of
being
so
sorry
and
so
lonely
,
Floy
!
´
Another
time
,
in
the
same
place
,
he
fell
asleep
,
and
slept
quietly
for
a
long
time
.
Awaking
suddenly
,
he
listened
,
started
up
,
and
sat
listening
.
Florence
asked
him
what
he
thought
he
heard
.
`
I
want
to
know
what
it
says
,
´
he
answered
,
looking
steadily
in
her
face
.
`
The
sea
,
Floy
,
what
is
it
that
it
keeps
on
saying
?
´
She
told
him
that
it
was
only
the
noise
of
the
rolling
waves
.
`
Yes
,
yes
,
´
he
said
.
`
But
I
know
that
they
are
always
saying
something
.
Always
the
same
thing
.
What
place
is
over
there
?
´
He
rose
up
,
looking
eagerly
at
the
horizon
.
She
told
him
that
there
was
another
country
opposite
,
but
he
said
he
did
n't
mean
that
:
he
meant
farther
away
—
farther
away
!
Very
often
afterwards
,
in
the
midst
of
their
talk
,
he
would
break
off
,
to
try
to
understand
what
it
was
that
the
waves
were
always
saying
;
and
would
rise
up
in
his
couch
to
look
towards
that
invisible
region
,
far
away
.
CHAPTER
IX
In
which
the
Wooden
Midshipman
gets
into
Trouble
THAT
spice
of
romance
and
love
of
the
marvellous
,
of
which
there
was
a
pretty
strong
infusion
in
the
nature
of
young
Walter
Gay
,
and
which
the
guardianship
of
his
uncle
,
old
Solomon
Gills
,
had
not
very
much
weakened
by
the
waters
of
stern
practical
experience
,
was
the
occasion
of
his
attaching
an
uncommon
and
delightful
interest
to
the
adventure
of
Florence
with
good
Mrs.
Brown
.
He
pampered
and
cherished
it
in
his
memory
,
especially
that
part
of
it
with
which
he
had
been
associated
:
until
it
became
the
spoiled
child
of
his
fancy
,
and
took
its
own
way
,
and
did
what
it
liked
with
it
.
The
recollection
of
those
incidents
,
and
his
own
share
in
them
,
may
have
been
made
the
more
captivating
,
perhaps
,
by
the
weekly
dreamings
of
old
Sol
and
Captain
Cuttle
on
Sundays
.
Hardly
a
Sunday
passed
,
without
mysterious
references
being
made
by
one
or
other
of
those
worthy
chums
to
Richard
Whittington
;
and
the
latter
gentleman
had
even
gone
so
far
as
to
purchase
a
ballad
of
considerable
antiquity
,
that
had
long
fluttered
among
many
others
,
chiefly
expressive
of
maritime
sentiments
,
on
a
dead
wall
in
the
Commercial
Roads
:
which
poetical
performances
set
forth
the
courtship
and
nuptials
of
a
promising
young
coal-whipper
with
a
certain
`
lovely
Peg
,
´
the
accomplished
daughter
of
the
master
and
part-owner
of
a
Newcastle
collier
.
In
this
stirring
legend
,
Captain
Cuttle
descried
a
profound
metaphysical
bearing
on
the
case
of
Walter
and
Florence
;
and
it
excited
him
so
much
,
that
on
very
festive
occasions
,
as
birthdays
and
few
other
non-Dominical
holidays
,
he
would
roar
through
the
whole
song
in
the
little
back
parlour
;
making
an
amazing
shake
on
the
word
Pe
—
e
—
eg
,
with
which
every
verse
concluded
,
in
compliment
to
the
heroine
of
the
piece
.
But
a
frank
,
free-spirited
,
open-hearted
boy
,
is
not
much
given
to
analysing
the
nature
of
his
own
feelings
,
however
strong
their
hold
upon
him
:
and
Walter
would
have
found
it
difficult
to
decide
this
point
.
He
had
a
great
affection
for
the
wharf
where
he
had
encountered
Florence
,
and
for
the
streets
(
albeit
not
enchanting
in
themselves
)
by
which
they
had
come
home
.
The
shoes
that
had
so
often
tumbled
off
by
way
,
he
preserved
in
his
own
room
;
and
,
sitting
in
the
little
back
parlour
of
an
evening
,
he
had
drawn
a
whole
gallery
of
fancy
portraits
of
good
Mrs.
Brown
.
It
may
be
that
he
became
a
little
smarter
in
his
dress
after
that
memorable
occasion
;
and
he
certainly
liked
in
his
leisure
time
to
walk
towards
that
quarter
of
the
town
where
Mr.
Dombey
's
house
was
situated
,
on
the
vague
chance
of
passing
little
Florence
in
the
street
.
But
the
sentiment
of
all
this
was
as
boyish
and
innocent
as
could
be
.
Florence
was
very
pretty
,
and
it
is
pleasant
to
admire
a
pretty
face
.
Florence
was
defenceless
and
weak
,
and
it
was
a
proud
thought
that
he
had
been
able
to
render
her
any
protection
and
assistantce
.
Florence
was
the
most
grateful
little
creature
in
the
world
,
and
it
was
delightful
to
see
her
bright
gratitude
beaming
in
her
face
.
Florence
was
neglected
and
coldly
looked
upon
,
and
his
breast
was
full
of
youthful
interest
for
the
slighted
child
in
her
dull
,
stately
home
.
Thus
it
came
about
that
,
perhaps
some
half-a-dozen
times
in
the
course
of
the
year
,
Walter
pulled
off
his
hat
to
Florence
in
the
street
,
and
Florence
would
stop
to
shake
hands
.
Mrs.
Wickam
(
who
,
with
a
characteristic
alteration
of
his
name
,
invariably
spoke
of
him
as
`
Young
Graves
'
)
was
so
well
used
to
this
,
knowing
the
story
of
their
acquaintance
,
that
she
took
no
heed
of
it
at
all
.
Miss
Nipper
,
on
the
other
hand
,
rather
looked
out
for
these
occasions
:
her
sensitive
young
heart
being
secretly
propitiated
by
Walter
's
good
looks
,
and
inclining
to
the
belief
that
its
sentiments
were
responded
to
.
In
this
way
,
Walter
,
so
far
from
forgetting
or
losing
sight
of
his
acquaintance
with
Florence
,
only
remembered
it
better
and
better
.
As
to
its
adventurous
beginning
,
and
all
those
little
circumstances
which
gave
it
a
distinctive
character
and
relish
,
he
took
them
into
account
,
more
as
a
pleasant
story
very
agreeable
to
his
imagination
,
and
not
to
be
dismissed
from
it
,
than
as
a
part
of
any
matter
of
fact
with
which
he
was
concerned
.
They
set
off
Florence
very
much
,
to
his
fancy
;
but
not
himself
.
Sometimes
he
thought
(
and
then
he
walked
very
fast
)
what
a
grand
thing
it
would
have
been
for
him
to
have
been
going
to
sea
on
the
day
after
that
first
meeting
,
and
to
have
gone
,
and
to
have
done
wonders
there
,
and
to
have
stopped
away
a
long
time
,
and
to
have
come
back
an
Admiral
of
all
the
colours
of
the
dolphin
,
or
at
least
a
Post-Captain
with
epaulettes
of
insupportable
brightness
,
and
have
married
Florence
(
then
a
beautiful
young
woman
)
in
spite
of
Mr.
Dombey
's
teeth
,
cravat
,
and
watch-chain
,
and
borne
her
away
to
the
blue
shores
of
somewhere
or
other
,
triumphantly
.
But
these
flights
of
fancy
seldom
burnished
the
brass
plate
of
Dombey
and
Son
's
Offices
into
a
tablet
of
golden
hope
,
or
shed
a
brilliant
lustre
on
their
dirty
skylights
;
and
when
the
Captain
and
Uncle
Sol
talked
about
Richard
Whittington
and
masters
´
daughters
,
Walter
felt
that
he
understood
his
true
position
at
Dombey
and
Son
's
much
better
than
they
did
.
So
it
was
that
he
went
on
doing
what
he
had
to
do
from
day
to
day
,
in
a
cheerful
,
pains-taking
,
merry
spirit
;
and
saw
through
the
sanguine
complexion
of
Uncle
Sol
and
Captain
Cuttle
;
and
yet
entertained
a
thousand
indistinct
and
visionary
fancies
of
his
own
,
to
which
theirs
were
word-a-day
probabilities
.
Such
was
his
condition
at
the
Pipchin
period
,
when
he
looked
a
little
older
than
of
yore
,
but
not
much
;
and
was
the
same
light-footed
,
light-hearted
,
lightheaded
lad
,
as
when
he
charged
into
the
parlour
at
the
head
of
Uncle
Sol
and
the
imaginary
boarders
,
and
lighted
him
to
bring
up
the
Madeira
.
`
Uncle
Sol
'
,
said
Walter
,
`
I
do
n't
think
you
're
well
.
You
have
n't
eaten
any
breakfast
.
I
shall
bring
a
doctor
to
you
,
if
you
go
on
like
this
.
´
`
He
ca
n't
give
me
what
I
want
,
my
boy
,
´
said
Uncle
Sol
.
`
At
least
he
is
in
good
practice
if
he
can
—
and
then
he
would
n't
.
´
`
What
is
it
,
Uncle
?
Customers
?
´
`
Aye
,
´
returned
Solomon
,
with
a
sigh
.
`
Customers
would
do
.
´
`
Confound
it
,
Uncle
!
´
said
Walter
,
putting
down
his
breakfast
cup
with
a
clatter
,
and
striking
his
hand
on
the
table
:
`
when
I
see
the
people
going
up
and
down
the
street
in
shoals
all
day
,
and
passing
and
re-passing
the
shop
every
minute
,
by
scores
,
I
feel
half
tempted
to
rush
out
,
collar
somebody
,
bring
him
in
,
and
make
him
buy
fifty
pounds
´
worth
of
instruments
for
ready
money
.
What
are
you
looking
in
at
the
door
for
?
—
´
continued
Walter
,
apostrophizing
an
old
gentleman
with
a
powdered
head
(
inaudibly
to
him
of
course
)
,
who
was
staring
at
a
ship
's
telescope
with
all
his
might
and
main
.
`
That
's
no
use
.
I
could
do
that
.
Come
in
and
buy
it
!
´
The
old
gentleman
,
however
,
having
satiated
his
curiosity
,
walked
calmly
away
.
`
There
he
goes
!
´
said
Walter
.
`
That
's
the
way
with
'em
all
.
But
,
Uncle
—
I
say
,
uncle
Sol
'
—
for
the
old
man
was
meditating
,
and
had
not
responded
to
his
first
appeal
.
`
Do
n't
be
cast
down
.
Do
n't
be
out
of
spirits
,
Uncle
.
When
orders
do
come
,
they
'll
come
in
such
a
crowd
,
you
wo
n't
be
able
to
execute
'
em
.
´
`
I
shall
be
past
executing
'
em
,
whenever
they
come
,
my
boy
,
´
returned
Solomon
Gills
.
`
They
'll
never
come
to
this
shop
again
,
till
I
am
out
of
it
.
´
`
I
say
,
Uncle
!
You
mus
n't
really
,
you
know
!
urged
Walter
.
`
Do
n't
!
´
Old
Sol
endeavoured
to
assume
a
cherry
look
,
and
smiled
across
the
little
table
at
him
as
pleasantly
as
he
could
.
`
There
's
nothing
more
than
usual
the
matter
;
is
there
,
Uncle
?
´
said
Walter
,
leaning
his
elbows
on
the
tea
tray
and
bending
over
,
to
speak
the
more
confidentially
and
kindly
.
`
Be
open
with
me
,
Uncle
,
if
there
is
,
and
tell
me
all
about
it
.
´
`
No
,
no
,
no
,
´
returned
Old
Sol
.
`
More
than
usual
?
No
,
no.
what
should
there
be
the
matter
more
than
usual
?
´
Walter
answered
with
an
incredulous
shake
of
his
head
.
`
That
's
what
I
want
to
know
,
´
he
said
,
`
and
you
ask
me
!
I
'll
tell
you
what
,
Uncle
,
when
I
see
you
like
this
,
I
am
quite
sorry
that
I
live
with
you
.
´
Old
Sol
opened
his
eyes
involuntarily
.
`
Yes
.
Though
nobody
ever
was
happier
than
I
am
and
always
have
been
with
you
,
I
am
quite
sorry
that
I
live
with
you
,
when
I
see
you
with
anything
on
your
mind
.
´
`
I
am
a
little
dull
at
such
times
,
I
know
,
´
observed
Solomon
,
meekly
rubbing
his
hands
.
`
What
I
mean
,
Uncle
Sol
,
´
pursued
Walter
,
bending
over
a
little
more
to
pat
him
on
the
shoulder
,
`
is
,
that
then
I
feel
you
ought
to
have
,
sitting
here
and
pouring
out
the
tea
instead
of
me
,
a
nice
little
dumpling
of
a
wife
,
you
know
,
—
a
comfortable
,
capital
,
cosey
old
lady
,
who
was
just
a
match
for
you
,
and
knew
how
to
manage
you
,
and
keep
you
in
good
heart
.
Here
am
I
,
as
loving
a
nephew
as
ever
was
(
I
am
sure
I
ought
to
be
!
)
but
I
am
only
a
nephew
,
and
I
ca
n't
be
such
a
companion
to
you
when
you
're
low
and
out
of
sorts
as
she
would
have
made
herself
,
years
ago
,
though
I
'm
sure
I
'd
give
any
money
if
I
could
cheer
you
up
.
And
so
I
say
,
when
I
see
you
with
anything
on
your
mind
,
that
I
feel
quite
sorry
you
have
n't
got
somebody
better
about
you
than
a
blundering
young
rough-and-tough
boy
like
me
,
who
has
got
the
will
to
console
you
,
Uncle
,
but
has
n't
got
the
way
—
has
n't
got
the
way
,
´
repeated
Walter
,
reaching
over
further
yet
,
to
shake
his
uncle
by
the
hand
.
`
Wally
,
my
dear
boy
,
´
said
Solomon
,
`
if
the
cosey
little
old
lady
had
taken
her
place
in
this
parlour
five
and
forty
years
ago
,
I
never
could
have
been
fonder
of
her
than
I
am
of
you
.
´
`
I
know
that
,
Uncle
Sol
,
´
returned
Walter
.
`
Lord
bless
you
,
I
know
that
.
But
you
would
n't
have
had
the
whole
weight
of
any
uncomfortable
secrets
if
she
had
been
with
you
,
because
she
would
have
known
how
to
relieve
you
of
'em
,
and
I
do
n't
.
´
`
Yes
,
yes
,
you
do
,
´
returned
the
instrument-maker
.
`
Well
then
,
what
's
the
matter
,
Uncle
Sol
?
´
said
Walter
,
coaxingly
.
`
Come
!
What
's
the
matter
?
´
Solomon
Gills
persisted
that
there
was
nothing
the
matter
;
and
maintained
it
so
resolutely
,
that
his
nephew
had
no
resource
but
to
make
a
very
indifferent
imitation
of
believing
him
.
`
All
I
can
say
is
,
Uncle
Sol
,
that
if
there
is
—
—
´
`
But
there
is
n't
´
said
Solomon
.
`
Very
well
,
´
said
Walter
.
`
Then
I
've
no
more
to
say
;
and
that
's
lucky
,
for
my
time
's
up
for
going
to
business
.
I
shall
look
in
by-and-by
when
I
'm
out
,
to
see
how
you
get
on
,
Uncle
.
And
mind
,
Uncle
!
I
'll
never
believe
you
again
,
and
never
tell
you
anything
more
about
Mr.
Carker
the
Junior
,
if
I
find
out
that
you
have
been
deceiving
me
!
´
Solomon
Gills
laughingly
defied
him
to
find
out
anything
of
the
kind
;
and
Walter
,
revolving
in
his
thoughts
all
sorts
of
impracticable
ways
of
making
fortunes
and
placing
the
wooden
midshipman
in
a
position
of
independence
,
betook
himself
to
the
offices
of
Dombey
and
Son
with
a
heavier
countenance
than
he
usually
carried
there
.
There
lived
in
those
days
,
round
the
corner
—
in
Bishopsgate
Street
Without
—
one
Brogley
,
sworn
broker
and
appraiser
,
who
kept
a
shop
where
every
description
of
second-hand
furniture
was
exhibited
in
the
most
uncomfortable
aspect
,
and
under
circumstances
and
in
combinations
the
most
completely
foreign
to
its
purpose
.
Dozens
of
chairs
hooked
on
to
washing-stands
,
which
with
difficulty
poised
themselves
on
the
shoulders
of
sideboards
,
which
in
their
turn
stood
upon
the
wrong
side
of
dining-tables
,
gymnastic
with
their
legs
upward
on
the
tops
of
other
dining-tables
,
were
among
its
most
reasonable
arrangements
.
A
banquet
array
of
dish-covers
,
wine-glasses
,
and
decanters
was
generally
to
be
seen
,
spread
forth
upon
the
bosom
of
a
four-post
bedstead
,
for
the
entertainment
of
such
genial
company
as
half-a-dozen
pokers
,
and
a
hall
lamp
.
A
set
of
window
curtains
with
no
windows
belonging
to
them
,
would
be
seen
gracefully
draping
a
barricade
of
chests
of
drawers
,
loaded
with
little
jars
from
chemists
´
shops
;
while
a
homeless
hearthrug
severed
from
its
natural
companion
the
fireside
,
braved
the
shrewd
east
wind
in
its
adversity
,
and
trembled
in
melancholy
accord
with
the
shrill
complainings
of
a
cabinet
piano
,
wasting
away
,
a
string
a
day
,
and
faintly
resounding
to
the
noises
of
the
street
in
its
jangling
and
distracted
brain
.
Of
motionless
clocks
that
never
stirred
a
finger
,
and
seemed
as
incapable
of
being
successfully
wound
up
,
as
the
pecuniary
affairs
of
their
former
owners
,
there
was
always
great
choice
in
Mr.
Brogley
's
shop
;
and
various
looking-glasses
,
accidentally
placed
at
compound
interest
of
reflection
and
refraction
,
presented
to
the
eye
an
eternal
perspective
of
bankruptcy
and
ruin
.
Mr.
Brogley
himself
was
a
moist-eyed
,
pink-complexioned
,
crisp-haired
man
,
of
a
bulky
figure
and
an
easy
temper
—
for
that
class
of
Caius
Marius
who
sits
upon
the
ruins
of
other
people
's
Carthages
,
can
keep
up
his
spirits
well
enough
.
He
had
looked
in
at
Solomon
's
shop
sometimes
to
ask
a
question
about
articles
in
Solomon
's
way
of
business
;
and
Walter
knew
him
sufficiently
to
give
him
good
day
when
they
met
in
the
street
,
but
as
that
was
the
extent
of
the
broker
's
acquaintance
with
Solomon
Gills
also
,
Walter
was
not
a
little
surprised
when
he
came
back
in
the
course
of
the
forenoon
,
agreeably
to
his
promise
,
to
find
Mr.
Brogley
sitting
in
the
back
parlour
with
his
hands
in
his
pockets
,
and
his
hat
hanging
up
behind
the
door
.
`
Well
,
Uncle
Sol
!
´
said
Walter
.
The
old
man
was
sitting
ruefully
on
the
opposite
side
of
the
table
,
with
his
spectacles
over
his
eyes
,
for
a
wonder
,
instead
on
his
forehead
.
`
How
are
you
now
?
´
Solomon
shook
his
head
,
and
waved
one
hand
towards
the
broker
as
,
introducing
him
.
`
Is
there
anything
the
matter
?
´
asked
Walter
,
with
a
catching
in
his
breath
.
`
No
,
no.
There
's
nothing
the
matter
,
´
said
Mr.
Brogley
.
`
Do
n't
let
it
put
you
out
of
the
way
.
´
Walter
looked
from
the
broker
to
his
uncle
in
mute
amazement
.
`
The
fact
is
,
´
said
Mr.
Brogley
,
`
there
's
a
little
payment
on
a
bond
debt
—
three
hundred
and
seventy
odd
,
over
due
:
and
I
'm
in
possession
.
´
`
In
possession
!
´
cried
Walter
,
looking
round
at
the
shop
.
`
Ah
!
´
said
Mr.
Brogley
,
in
confidential
assent
,
and
nodding
his
head
as
if
he
would
urge
the
advisability
of
their
all
being
comfortable
together
.
`
It
's
an
execution
.
That
's
what
it
is
.
Do
n't
let
it
put
you
out
of
the
way
.
I
come
myself
,
because
of
keeping
it
quiet
and
sociable
.
You
know
me
.
It
's
quite
private
.
´
`
Uncle
Sol
!
´
faltered
Walter
.
`
Wally
,
my
boy
,
´
returned
his
uncle
.
`
It
's
the
first
time
.
Such
a
calamity
never
happened
to
me
before
.
I
'm
an
old
man
to
begin
.
´
Pushing
up
his
spectacles
again
(
for
they
were
useless
any
longer
to
conceal
his
emotion
)
,
he
covered
his
face
with
his
hand
,
and
sobbed
aloud
,
and
his
tears
fell
down
upon
his
coffee-coloured
waistcoat
.
`
Uncle
Sol
!
Pray
!
oh
do
n't
!
´
exclaimed
Walter
,
who
really
felt
a
thrill
of
terror
in
seeing
the
old
man
weep
.
`
For
God
's
sake
do
n't
do
that
.
Mr.
Brogley
,
what
shall
I
do
?
´
`
I
should
recommend
you
looking
up
a
friend
or
so
,
´
said
Mr.
Brogley
,
`
and
talking
it
over
.
´
`
To
be
sure
!
´
cried
Walter
,
catching
at
anything
.
`
Certainly
!
Thankee
.
Captain
Cuttle
's
the
man
,
Uncle
.
Wait
till
I
run
to
Captain
Cuttle
.
Keep
your
eye
upon
my
Uncle
,
will
you
,
Mr.
Brogley
,
and
make
him
as
comfortable
as
you
can
while
I
am
gone
?
Do
n't
despair
,
Uncle
Sol
.
Try
and
keep
a
good
heart
,
there
's
a
dear
fellow
!
´
Saying
this
with
great
fervour
,
and
disregarding
the
old
man
's
broken
remonstrances
,
Walter
dashed
out
of
the
shop
again
as
hard
as
he
could
go
;
and
having
hurried
round
to
the
office
to
excuse
himself
on
the
plea
of
his
uncle
's
sudden
illness
,
set
off
,
full
speed
,
for
Captain
Cuttle
's
residence
.
Everything
seemed
altered
as
he
ran
along
the
streets
.
There
were
the
usual
entanglement
and
noise
of
carts
,
drays
,
omni-buses
,
waggons
,
and
foot
passengers
,
but
the
misfortune
that
had
fallen
on
the
wooden
midshipman
made
it
strange
and
new
.
Houses
and
shops
were
different
from
what
they
used
to
be
,
and
bore
Mr.
Brogley
's
warrant
on
their
fronts
in
large
character
.
The
broker
seemed
to
have
got
hold
of
the
very
churches
;
for
their
spires
rose
into
the
sky
with
an
unwonted
air
.
Even
the
sky
itself
was
changed
,
and
had
an
execution
in
it
plainly
.
Captain
Cuttle
lived
on
the
brink
of
a
little
canal
near
the
India
Docks
,
where
there
was
a
swivel
bridge
which
opened
now
and
then
to
let
some
wandering
monster
of
a
ship
come
roaming
up
the
street
like
a
stranded
leviathan
.
The
gradual
change
from
land
to
water
,
on
the
approach
to
Captain
Cuttle
's
lodgings
,
was
curious
.
It
began
with
the
erection
of
flag-staffs
,
as
appurtenances
to
public-houses
;
then
came
slop-sellers
´
shops
,
with
Guernsey
shirts
,
sou'wester
hats
,
and
canvas
pantaloons
,
at
once
the
tightest
and
the
loosest
of
their
order
,
hanging
up
outside
.
These
were
succeeded
by
anchor
and
chain-cable
forges
,
where
sledge-hammers
were
dinging
upon
iron
all
day
long
.
Then
came
rows
of
houses
,
with
little
vanesurmounted
masts
uprearing
themselves
from
among
the
scarlet
beans
.
Then
ditches
.
Then
pollard
willows
.
Then
more
ditches
.
Then
unaccountable
patches
of
dirty
water
,
hardly
to
be
descried
,
for
the
ships
that
covered
them
.
Then
,
the
air
was
perfumed
with
chips
;
and
all
other
trades
were
swallowed
up
in
mast
,
oar
,
and
block-making
,
and
boat-building
.
Then
,
the
ground
grew
marshy
and
unsettled
.
Then
,
there
was
nothing
to
be
smelt
but
rum
and
sugar
.
Then
,
Captain
Cuttle
's
lodgings
—
at
once
a
first
floor
and
a
top
story
,
in
Brig
Place
—
were
close
before
you
.
The
captain
was
one
of
those
timber-looking
men
,
suits
of
oak
as
well
as
hearts
,
whom
it
is
almost
impossible
for
the
liveliest
imagination
to
separate
from
any
part
of
their
dress
,
however
insignificant
.
Accordingly
,
when
Walter
knocked
at
the
door
,
and
the
Captain
instantly
poked
his
head
out
of
one
of
his
little
front
windows
,
and
hailed
him
,
with
the
hard
glazed
hat
already
on
it
,
and
the
shirt-collar
like
a
sail
,
and
the
wide
suite
of
blue
,
all
standing
as
usual
,
Walter
was
as
fully
persuaded
that
he
was
always
in
that
state
,
as
if
the
Captain
had
been
a
bird
and
those
had
been
his
feathers
.
`
Wal'r
,
my
lad
!
´
said
Captain
Cuttle
.
`
Stand
by
and
knock
again
.
Hard
!
It
's
washing
day
.
´
Walter
,
in
his
impatience
,
gave
a
prodigious
thump
with
the
knocker
.
`
Hard
it
is
!
´
said
Captain
Cuttle
,
and
immediately
drew
in
his
head
,
as
if
he
expected
a
squall
.
Nor
was
he
mistaken
:
for
a
widow
lady
,
with
her
sleeves
rolled
up
to
her
shoulders
,
and
her
arms
frothy
with
soap-suds
and
smoking
with
hot
water
,
replied
to
the
summons
with
startling
rapidity
.
Before
she
looked
at
Walter
she
looked
at
the
knocker
,
and
then
,
measuring
him
with
her
eyes
from
head
to
foot
,
said
she
wondered
he
had
left
any
of
it
.
`
Captain
Cuttle
's
at
home
,
I
know
,
´
said
Walter
with
a
conciliatory
smile
.
`
Is
he
?
´
replied
the
widow
lady
.
`
In-deed
!
´
`
He
has
just
been
speaking
to
me
,
´
said
Walter
,
in
breathless
explanation
.
`
Has
he
?
´
replied
the
widow
lady
.
`
Then
p'raps
you
'll
give
him
Mrs.
MacStinger
's
respects
,
and
say
that
the
next
time
he
lowers
himself
and
his
lodgings
by
talking
out
of
winder
she
'll
thank
him
to
come
down
and
open
the
door
too
.
´
Mrs.
MacStinger
spoke
loud
,
and
listened
for
any
observations
that
might
be
offered
from
the
first
floor
.
`
I
'll
mention
it
,
´
said
Walter
,
`
if
you
'll
have
the
goodness
to
let
me
in
,
ma'am
.
´
For
he
was
repelled
by
a
wooden
fortification
extending
across
the
doorway
,
and
put
there
to
prevent
the
little
Mac
Stingers
in
their
moments
of
recreation
from
tumbling
down
the
steps
.
`
A
boy
that
can
knock
my
door
down
,
´
said
Mrs.
MacStinger
,
contemptuously
,
`
can
get
over
that
,
I
should
hope
!
´
But
Walter
,
taking
this
as
a
permission
to
enter
,
and
getting
over
it
,
Mrs.
MacStinger
immediately
demanded
whether
an
Englishwoman
's
house
was
her
castle
or
not
;
and
whether
she
was
to
be
broke
in
upon
by
`
raff
.
´
On
these
subjects
her
thirst
for
information
was
still
very
importunate
,
when
Walter
,
having
made
his
way
up
the
little
staircase
through
an
artificial
fog
occasioned
by
the
washing
,
which
covered
the
banisters
with
a
clammy
perspiration
,
entered
Captain
Cuttle
's
room
,
and
found
that
gentleman
in
ambush
behind
the
door
.
`
Never
owed
her
a
penny
,
Wal'r
,
´
said
Captain
Cuttle
,
in
a
low
voice
,
and
with
visible
marks
of
trepidation
on
his
countenance
.
`
Done
her
a
world
of
good
turns
,
and
the
children
too
.
Vixen
at
times
,
though
.
Whew
!
´
`
I
should
go
away
,
Captain
Cuttle
,
´
said
Walter
.
`
Durs
n't
do
it
,
Wal'r
,
´
returned
the
Captain
.
`
She
'd
find
me
out
,
wherever
I
went
.
Sit
down
.
How
's
Gills
?
´
The
Captain
was
dining
(
in
his
hat
)
off
cold
loin
of
mutton
,
porter
,
and
some
smoking
hot
potatoes
,
which
he
had
cooked
himself
,
and
took
out
of
a
little
saucepan
before
the
fire
as
he
wanted
them
.
He
unscrewed
his
hook
at
dinnertime
,
and
screwed
a
knife
into
its
wooden
socket
instead
,
with
which
he
had
already
begun
to
peel
one
of
these
potatoes
for
Walter
.
His
rooms
were
very
small
,
and
strongly
impregnated
with
tobacco-smoke
,
but
snug
enough
:
everything
being
stowed
away
,
as
if
there
were
an
earthquake
regularly
every
half-hour
.
`
How
's
Gills
?
´
inquired
the
Captain
.
Walter
,
who
had
by
this
time
recovered
his
breath
,
and
lost
his
spirits
—
or
such
temporary
spirits
as
his
rapid
journey
had
given
him
—
looked
at
his
questioner
for
a
moment
,
said
`
Oh
,
Captain
Cuttle
!
´
and
burst
into
tears
.
No
words
can
describe
the
Captain
's
consternation
at
this
sight
.
Mrs.
MacStinger
faded
into
nothing
before
it
.
He
dropped
the
potato
and
the
fork
—
and
would
have
dropped
the
knife
too
if
he
could
—
and
sat
gazing
at
the
boy
,
as
if
he
expected
to
hear
next
moment
that
a
gulf
had
opened
in
the
City
,
which
had
swallowed
up
his
old
friend
,
coffee-coloured
suit
,
buttons
,
chronometer
,
spectacles
and
all
.
But
when
Walter
told
him
what
was
really
the
matter
,
Captain
Cuttle
,
after
a
moment
's
reflection
,
started
up
into
full
activity
.
He
emptied
out
of
a
little
tin
canister
on
the
top
shelf
of
the
cupboard
,
his
whole
stock
of
ready
money
(
amounting
to
thirteen
pounds
and
half-a-crown
)
,
which
he
transferred
to
one
of
the
pockets
of
his
square
blue
coat
;
further
enriched
that
repository
with
the
contents
of
his
plate
chest
,
consisting
of
two
withered
atomies
of
tea-spoons
,
and
an
obsolete
pair
of
knock-knee
'd
sugar-tongs
;
pulled
up
his
immense
doublecased
silver
watch
from
the
depths
in
which
it
reposed
,
to
assure
himself
that
that
valuable
was
sound
and
whole
;
re-attached
the
hook
to
his
right
wrist
;
and
seizing
the
stick
covered
over
with
knobs
,
bade
Walter
come
along
.
Remembering
,
however
,
in
the
midst
of
his
virtuous
excitement
,
that
Mrs.
MacStinger
might
be
lying
in
wait
below
,
Captain
Cuttle
hesitated
at
last
,
not
without
glancing
at
the
window
,
as
if
he
had
some
thoughts
of
escaping
by
that
unusual
means
of
egress
,
rather
than
encounter
his
terrible
enemy
.
He
decided
,
however
,
in
favour
of
stratagem
.
`
Wal'r
,
´
said
the
Captain
,
with
a
timid
wink
,
`
go
afore
,
my
lad
.
Sing
out
,
`
good-bye
,
Captain
Cuttle
,
´
when
you
're
in
the
passage
,
and
shut
the
door
.
Then
wait
at
the
corner
of
the
street
'
till
you
see
me
.
´
These
directions
were
not
issued
without
a
previous
knowledge
of
the
enemy
's
tactics
,
for
when
Walter
got
down
stairs
,
Mrs.
MacStinger
glided
out
of
the
little
back
kitchen
,
like
an
avenging
spirit
.
But
not
gliding
out
upon
the
Captain
,
as
she
had
expected
,
she
merely
made
a
further
allusion
to
the
knocker
,
and
glided
in
again
.
Some
five
minutes
elapsed
before
Captain
Cuttle
could
summon
courage
to
attempt
his
escape
;
for
Walter
waited
so
long
at
the
street
corner
,
looking
back
at
the
house
,
before
there
were
any
symptoms
of
the
hard
glazed
hat
.
At
length
the
Captain
burst
out
of
the
door
with
the
suddenness
of
an
explosion
,
and
coming
towards
him
at
a
great
pace
,
and
never
once
looking
over
his
shoulder
,
pretended
,
as
soon
as
they
were
well
out
of
the
street
,
to
whistle
a
tune
.
`
Uncle
much
hove
down
,
Wal'r
?
´
inquired
the
Captain
,
as
they
were
walking
along
.
`
I
am
afraid
so
.
If
you
had
seen
him
this
morning
,
you
would
never
have
forgotten
it
.
´
`
Walk
fast
,
Wal'r
,
my
lad
,
´
returned
the
Captain
,
mending
his
pace
;
`
and
walk
the
same
all
the
days
of
your
life
.
Over-haul
the
catechism
for
that
advice
,
and
keep
it
!
´
The
Captain
was
too
busy
with
his
own
thoughts
of
Solomon
Gills
,
mingled
perhaps
with
some
reflections
on
his
late
escape
from
Mrs.
MacStinger
,
to
offer
any
further
quotations
on
the
way
for
Walter
's
moral
improvement
.
They
interchanged
no
other
word
until
they
arrived
at
old
Sol
's
door
,
where
the
unfortunate
wooden
midshipman
,
with
his
instrument
at
his
eye
,
seemed
to
be
surveying
the
whole
horizon
in
search
of
some
friend
to
help
him
out
of
his
difficulty
.
`
Gills
!
´
said
the
Captain
,
hurrying
into
the
back
parlour
,
and
taking
him
by
the
hand
quite
tenderly
.
`
Lay
your
head
well
to
the
wind
,
and
we
'll
fight
through
it
.
All
you
've
got
to
do
,
´
said
the
Captain
,
with
the
solemnity
of
a
man
who
was
delivering
himself
of
one
of
the
most
precious
practical
tenets
ever
discovered
by
human
wisdom
,
`
is
to
lay
your
head
well
to
the
wind
,
and
we
'll
fight
through
it
!
´
Old
Sol
returned
the
pressure
of
his
hand
,
and
thanked
him
.
Captain
Cuttle
,
then
,
with
a
gravity
suitable
to
the
nature
of
the
occasion
,
put
down
upon
the
table
the
two
tea-spoons
and
the
sugar-tongs
,
the
silver
watch
,
and
the
ready
money
;
and
asked
Mr.
Brogley
,
the
broker
,
what
the
damage
was
.
`
Come
!
What
do
you
make
of
it
?
´
said
Captain
Cuttle
.
`
Why
,
Lord
help
you
!
´
returned
the
broker
;
`
you
do
n't
suppose
that
property
's
of
any
use
,
do
you
?
´
`
Why
not
?
´
inquired
the
Captain
.
`
Why
?
The
amount
's
three
hundred
and
seventy
,
odd
,
´
replied
the
broker
.
`
Never
mind
,
´
returned
the
Captain
,
though
he
was
evidently
dismayed
by
the
figures
:
`
all
's
fish
that
comes
to
your
net
,
I
suppose
?
´
`
Certainly
,
´
said
Mr.
Brogley
.
`
But
sprats
a
n't
whales
,
you
know
.
´
The
philosophy
of
this
observation
seemed
to
strike
the
Captain
.
He
ruminated
for
a
minute
;
eyeing
the
broker
,
meanwhile
,
as
a
deep
genius
;
and
then
called
the
instrument-maker
aside
.
`
Gills
,
´
said
Captain
Cuttle
,
`
what
's
the
bearings
of
this
business
?
Who
's
the
creditor
?
´
`
Hush
!
´
returned
the
old
man
.
`
Come
away
.
Do
n't
speak
before
Wally
.
It
's
a
matter
of
security
for
Wally
's
father
—
an
old
bond
.
I
've
paid
a
good
deal
of
it
,
Ned
,
but
the
times
are
so
bad
with
me
that
I
ca
n't
do
more
just
now
.
I
've
foreseen
it
,
but
I
could
n't
help
it
.
Not
a
word
before
Wally
,
for
all
the
world
.
´
`
You
've
got
some
money
,
have
n't
you
?
´
whispered
the
Captain
.
`
Yes
,
yes
—
oh
yes
—
I
've
got
some
,
´
returned
old
Sol
,
first
putting
his
hands
into
his
empty
pockets
,
and
then
squeezing
his
Welsh
wig
between
them
,
as
if
he
thought
he
might
wring
some
gold
out
of
it
;
`
but
I
—
the
little
I
have
got
,
is
n't
convertible
,
Ned
;
it
ca
n't
be
got
at
.
I
have
been
trying
to
do
something
with
it
for
Wally
,
and
I
'm
old
fashioned
,
and
behind
the
time
.
It
's
here
and
there
,
and
—
and
,
in
short
,
it
's
as
good
as
nowhere
,
´
said
the
old
man
,
looking
in
bewilderment
about
him
.
He
had
so
much
the
air
of
a
half-witted
person
who
had
been
hiding
his
money
in
a
variety
of
places
,
and
had
forgotten
where
,
that
the
Captain
followed
his
eyes
,
not
without
a
faint
hope
that
he
might
remember
some
few
hundred
pounds
concealed
up
the
chimney
,
or
down
in
the
cellar
.
But
Solomon
Gills
knew
better
than
that
.
`
I
'm
behind
the
time
altogether
,
my
dear
Ned
,
´
said
Sol
,
in
resigned
despair
,
`
a
long
way
.
It
's
no
use
my
lagging
on
so
far
behind
it
.
The
stock
had
better
be
sold
—
it
's
worth
more
than
this
debt
—
and
I
had
better
go
and
die
somewhere
,
on
the
balance
.
I
have
n't
any
energy
left
.
I
do
n't
understand
things
.
This
had
better
be
the
end
of
it
