 17 I now fell into a regular routine of apprenticeship life, which was very beyond the limits of the village and the marshes, by no more remarkable circumstance than the arrival of my birthday, am I paying another visit to Miss Havisham? I found Miss Sarah Pockett still on duty at the gate, I found Miss Havisham just as I had left her, and she spoke of Estella in the very same way, if not in the very same words. The interview lasted but a few minutes, and she gave me a guinea when I was going, and told me to come again on my next birthday. I may mention at once that this became an annual custom. I tried to decline taking the guinea on the first occasion, but with no better effect than causing her to ask me very angrily if I expected more. Then and after that I took it. So unchanging was the dull old house, the yellow light in the darkened room, the faded specter in the chair by the dressing table glass, that I felt as if the stopping of the clocks had stopped time in that mysterious place, and while I and everything else outside grew older it stood still. Daylight never entered the house as to my thoughts and remembrances of it any more than as to the actual fact. It bewildered me, and under its influence I continued at heart to hate my trade and to be ashamed of home. Perceptibly I became conscious of a change in bitty, however. Her shoes came up at the heel, her hair grew bright and neat, her hands were always clean. She was not beautiful, she was common, and could not be like Estella, but she was pleasant and wholesome and sweet-tempered. She had not been with us more than a year. I remember her being newly out of mourning at the time it struck me. When I observed to myself one evening that she had curiously thoughtful and attentive eyes, eyes that were very pretty and very good. It came of my lifting up my own eyes from a task I was pouring at, writing some passages from a book, to improve myself in two ways at once by a sort of stratagem, and seeing bitty observant of what I was about. I laid down my pen and bitty stopped in her needlework without laying it down. Bitty, said I, how do you manage it? Either I am very stupid or you are very clever. What is it that I manage? I don't know, returned Bitty, smiling. She managed our whole domestic life and wonderfully too, but I did not mean that, though that made what I did mean more surprising. How do you manage, Bitty, said I, to learn everything that I learn and always to keep up with me? I was beginning to be rather vain of my knowledge, for I spent my birthday guineas on it and set aside the greater part of my pocket money for similar investment, though I have no doubt now that the little I knew was extremely dear at the price. I might as well ask you, said Bitty, how do you manage? No, because when I came in from the forage of a night any one can see me turning too at it, but you never turned too at it, Bitty? I suppose I must catch it like a cough, said Bitty quietly, and went on with her sewing. Pursuing my idea as I leaned back in my wooden chair and looked at Bitty sewing away with her head on one side, I began to think her rather an extraordinary girl, for I called to mind now that she was equally accomplished in the terms of our trade and the names of our different sorts of work and our various tools. In short, whatever I knew, Bitty knew—theoretically she was already as good a blacksmith as I, or better. You were one of those, Bitty, said I, who make the most of every chance. You never had a chance before you came here and see how improved you are. Bitty looked at me for an instant and went on with her sewing. I was your first teacher, though, wasn't I? said she, as she sewed. Bitty! I exclaimed in amazement. Why, you are crying! No, I am not, said Bitty, looking up and laughing. What put that in your head? What could have put it in my head but the glistening of a tear as it dropped on her work? I sat silent, recalling what a drudge she had been until Mr. Wapsle's great aunt successfully overcame that bad habit of living, so highly desirable to be got rid of by some people. I recalled the hopeless circumstances by which she had been surrounded in the miserable little shop and the miserable little noisy evening school with that miserable old bundle of incompetence always to be dragged in shoulder. I reflected that even in these untoward times there must have been latent in Bitty what was now developing, for in my first uneasiness and discontent I had turned to her for help as a matter of course. Bitty sat quietly sewing, shedding no more tears, and while I looked at her and thought about it all it occurred to me that perhaps I had not been sufficiently grateful to Bitty. I might have been too reserved and should have patronized her more, though I did not use that precise word in my meditations, with my confidence. Yes, Bitty, I observed when I had done turning it over, you were my first teacher, and that at a time when we little thought of ever being together like this in this kitchen. Ah, poor thing, replied Bitty. It was like her self-forgetfulness to transfer the remark to my sister and to get up and be busy about her, making her more comfortable. That's sadly true. Well, said I, we must talk together a little more as we used to do, and I must consult you a little more as I used to do. Let us have a quiet walk on the marshes next Sunday, Bitty, and a long chat. My sister was never left alone now, but Joe more than readily undertook the care of her on that Sunday afternoon, and Bitty and I went out together. It was summertime and lovely weather. When we had passed the village and the church and the churchyard, and were out on the marshes and began to see the sails of the ships as they sailed on, I began to combine Miss Havisham and Estella with the prospect in my usual way. When we came to the riverside and sat down on the bank, with the water rippling at our feet, making it all more quiet than it would have been without that sound, I resolved that it was a good time in place for the admission of Bitty into my inner confidence. Bitty, said I, after binding her to secrecy, I want to be a gentleman. Oh, I wouldn't if I was you, she returned. I don't think it would answer. Bitty, said I, with some severity, I have particular reasons for wanting to be a gentleman. You know best, Pip, but don't you think you are happier as you are? Bitty, I exclaimed impatiently, I am not at all happy as I am. I am disgusted with my calling and with my life. I have never taken to either since I was bound. Don't be absurd. Was I absurd? said Bitty, quietly raising her eyebrows. I am sorry for that. I didn't mean to be. I only want you to do well and to be comfortable. Well then, understand once for all that I never shall or can be comfortable, or anything but miserable. There, Bitty, unless I can lead a very different sort of life from the life I lead now. That's a pity. said Bitty, shaking her head with a sorrowful air. Now I, too, had often thought at a pity. In the regular kind of quarrel with myself, which I was always carrying on, I was half inclined to shed tears of vexation and distress when Bitty gave utterance to her sentiment and my own. I told her she was right, and I knew it was much to be regretted, but still it was not to be helped. If I could have settled down, I said to Bitty, plucking up the short grass within reach, much as I had once upon a time pulled my feelings out of my hair and kicked them into the brewery wall. If I could have settled down and been but half as fond of the forge as I was when I was little, I know it would have been much better for me. You and I and Joe would have wanted nothing then, and Joe and I would perhaps have gone partners when I was out of my time, and I might even have grown up to keep company with you, and we might have sat on this very bank on a fine Sunday, quite different people. I should have been good enough for you, shouldn't I, Bitty? Bitty sighed as she looked at the ship sailing on, and returned for answer. Yes, I am not over particular. It scarcely sounded flattering, but I knew she meant well. Instead of that, said I, plucking up more grass and chewing a blade or two, see how I am going on, dissatisfied, and uncomfortable, and what would it signify to me, being coarse and common, if nobody had told me so? Bitty turned her face suddenly towards mine and looked far more attentively at me than she had looked at the sailing ships. It was neither a very true nor a very polite thing to say. Bitty remarked, directing her eyes to the ships again. Who said it? I was disconcerted, for I had broken away without quite seeing where I was going to. It was not to be shuffled off now, however, and I answered, The beautiful young lady at Miss Havishams, and she's more beautiful than anybody ever was, and I admire her dreadfully, and I want to be a gentleman on her account. When I made this lunatic confession I began to throw my torn-up grass into the river as if I had some thoughts of following it. Do you want to be a gentleman, despite her, or to gain her over? Bitty quietly asked me, after a pause. I don't know, I mutely answered. Because, if it is despite her, Bitty pursued, I should think, but you know best, that might be better and more independently done by carrying nothing for her words. And if it is to gain her over, I should think, but you know best, she was not worth gaining over. Exactly what I myself had thought many times. Exactly what was perfectly manifest to me at the moment. But how could I, a poor dazed village lad, avoid that wonderful inconsistency into which the best and wisest of men fall every day? It may be all quite true, said I, to Bitty, but I admire her dreadfully. In short, I turned over on my face when I came to that, and got a good grasp on the hair on each side of my head, and wrenched it well. All the while knowing the madness of my heart to be so very mad and misplaced that I was quite conscious it would have served my face right if I had lifted it up by my hair and knocked it against the pebbles as a punishment for belonging to such an idiot. Bitty was the wisest of girls, and she tried to reason no more with me. She put her hand, which was a comfortable hand, though roughened by work, upon my hands one after another, and gently took them out of my hair. Then she softly patted my shoulder in a soothing way. While with my face upon my sleeve I cried a little, exactly as I had done in the brewery-yard, and felt vaguely convinced that I was very much ill-used by somebody, or by everybody, I can't say which. I am glad of one thing, said Bitty, and that is that you have felt you could give me your confidence, Pip. And I'm glad of another thing, and that is, that of course you know you may depend upon my keeping it, and always so far deserving it. If your first teacher, dear such a poor one, and so much in need of being taught herself, had been your teacher at the present time, she thinks she knows what lessons she would set, but it would be a hard one to learn, and you have got beyond her, and it's of no use now. So with a quiet sigh for me Bitty rose from the bank, and said, with a fresh and pleasant change of voice, shall we walk a little farther, or go home? Bitty, I cried, getting up, putting my arms round her neck, and giving her a kiss, I shall always tell you everything. Till you're a gentleman, said Bitty. You know I never shall be, so that's always. Not that I have any occasion to tell you anything, for you know everything I know, as I told you at home the other night. Bitty quite in a whisper, as she looked away at the ships, and then repeated, with her former pleasant change, shall we walk a little farther, or go home? I said to Bitty we would walk a little farther, and we did so, and the summer afternoon toned down into the summer evening, and it was very beautiful. I began to consider whether I was not more naturally and wholesomely situated, after all, in these circumstances, than playing beggar my neighbor by candlelight in the room with the stop clocks, and being despised by Estella. I thought it would be very good for me if I could get her out of my head, with all the rest of those remembrances and fancies, and could go to work determined to relish what I had to do, and stick to it, and make the best of it. I asked myself the question whether I did not surely know that if Estella were beside me at that moment, instead of Bitty, she would make me miserable. I was obliged to admit that I did know it for a certainty, and I said to myself, Pip, what a fool you are! We talked a good deal as we walked, and all that Bitty said seemed right. Bitty was never insulting, or capricious, or Bitty today and somebody else tomorrow. She would have derived only pain and no pleasure from giving me pain. She would far rather have wounded her own breast than mine. How could it be, then, that I did not like her much the better of the two? Bitty, said I, when we were walking homeward, I wish you could put me right. I wish I could, said Bitty. If I could only get myself to fall in love with you, you don't mind my speaking so openly to such an old acquaintance. Oh, dear, not at all, said Bitty. Don't mind me. If I could only get myself to do it, that would be the thing for me. But you never will, you see, said Bitty. It did not appear quite so unlikely to me that evening, as it would have done if we had discussed it a few hours before. I therefore observed I was not quite sure of that. But Bitty said she was, and she said it decisively. In my heart I believed her to be right, and yet I took it rather ill, too, that she should be so positive on the point. When we came near the churchyard we had to cross an embankment and get over a style near a sluice-gate. There started up from the gate, or from the rushes, or from the ooze, which was quite in his stagnant way. Hello, Orlik. Hello, he growled. Where are you two going? Where should we be going but home? Well, then, said he, I'm jiggered if I don't see you home. This penalty of being jiggered was a favourite, superstitious case of his. He attached no definite meaning to the word that I'm aware of, but used it, like his own pretended Christian name, to a front kind, and convey an idea of something savagely damaging. When I was younger I had had a general belief that if he had jiggered me personally he would have done it with a sharp and twisted hook. Bitty was much against his going with us, and said to me in a whisper, Don't let him come. I don't like him. As I did not like him, either, I took the liberty of saying that we thanked him, but we didn't want seeing home. Bitty received that piece of information with a yell of laughter, and dropped back, but came slouching after us at a little distance. Curious to know whether Bitty suspected him of having had a hand in that murderous attack, of which my sister had never been able to give any account, I asked her why she did not like him. Oh! she replied, glancing over her shoulder as he slouched after us. As I—I'm afraid—he likes me. Did he ever tell you he liked you? I asked indignantly. No, said Bitty, glancing over her shoulder again. He never told me so, but he dances at me whenever he can catch my eye. However novel and peculiar this testimony of attachment, I did not doubt the accuracy of the interpretation. I was very hot indeed upon old Orlex daring to admire her, as hot as if it were an outrage all myself. But it makes no difference to you, you know, said Bitty calmly. No, Bitty, it makes no difference to me. Only I don't like it. I don't approve of it. Nor I, either, said Bitty, though that makes no difference to you. Exactly, said I. But I must tell you I should have no opinion of you, Bitty, if he danced at you with your own consent. I kept an eye on Orlick after that night, and whenever circumstances were favorable to his dancing at Bitty, got before him to obscure that demonstration. He had struck rude in Joe's establishment, by reason of my sister's sudden fancy for him, or I should have tried to get him dismissed. He quite understood and reciprocated my good intentions, as I had reason to know thereafter. And now, because my mind was not confused enough before, I complicated its confusion fifty thousandfold by having states and seasons when I was clear that Bitty was immeasurably better than Estella, and that the plain honest working life to which I was born had nothing in it to be ashamed of, but offered me sufficient means of self-respect and happiness. At those times I would decide conclusively that my disaffection to dear old Joe and the Forge was gone, and that I was growing up in a fair way to be partners with Joe and to keep company with Bitty, when all in a moment some confounding remembrance of the Havisham days would fall upon me like a destructive missile and scatter my wits again. Scattered wits take a long time picking up, and often before I had got them well together they would be dispersed in all directions by one stray thought, that perhaps after all Miss Havisham was going to make my fortune when my time was out. If my time had run out, it would have left me still at the height of my perplexities, I daresay. It never did run out, however, but was brought to a premature end, as I proceed to relate. End of Chapter 18 It was in the fourth year of my apprenticeship to Joe, and it was a Saturday night. There was a group assembled round the fire at the Three Jolly Bargemen, attentive to Mr. Wopsle, as he read the newspaper aloud. Of that group I was one. A highly popular murder had been committed, and Mr. Wopsle was imbrewed in blood to the eyebrows. He gloated over every abhorrent objective in the description and identified himself with every witness at the inquest. He faintly moaned, I am done for. As the victim, I need barbarously bellowed, I'll serve you out! as the murderer. He gave the medical testimony, in pointed imitation of our local practitioner, and he piped and shook, as the aged turnpike keeper who had heard blows, to an extent so very paralytic as to suggest a doubt regarding the mental competency of that witness. The coroner in Mr. Wopsle's hands became Timon of Athens, the beetle Coriolanus. He enjoyed himself thoroughly, and we all enjoyed ourselves, and were delightfully comfortable. In this cozy state of mind we came to the verdict, Wilful Murder. Then and not sooner I became aware of a strange gentleman leaning over the back of the saddle opposite me, looking on. There was an expression of contempt on his face, and he bit the side of a great forefinger as he watched the group of faces. Well, said the stranger to Mr. Wopsle, when the reading was done, you have settled it all to your own satisfaction, I have no doubt. Everybody started and looked up, as if it were the murderer. He looked at everybody coldly and sarcastically. Guilty, of course, said he. Out with it, come! So returned Mr. Wopsle, without having the honor of your acquaintance, I do say guilty. Upon this we all took courage to unite in a confirmatory murmur. I know you do, said the stranger. I knew you would. I told you so. But now I'll ask you a question. Do you know, or do you not know, that the law of England supposes every man to be innocent until he has proved, proved, to be guilty? Sir, Mr. Wopsle began to reply, as an Englishman myself, I come, said the stranger, biting his forefinger at him. Don't evade the question. Either you know it, or you don't know it. Which is it to be? He stood with his head on one side and himself on one side, in a bullying, interrogative manner, and he threw his forefinger at Mr. Wopsle, as if it were to mark him out, before biting it again. Now, said he, do you know it, or don't you know it? Certainly I know it, replied Mr. Wopsle. Certainly you know it. Then why didn't you say so at first? Now I'll ask you another question. In possession of Mr. Wopsle, as if he had a right to him, do you know that none of these witnesses have yet been cross-examined? Mr. Wopsle was beginning, I can only say, when the stranger stopped him. What? You won't answer the question, yes or no? Now I'll try you again, throwing his finger at him again. Attend to me. Are you aware, or are you not aware, that none of these witnesses have yet been cross-examined? Come! I only want one word from you, yes or no? Mr. Wopsle hesitated, and we all began to conceive rather a poor opinion of him. Come! said the stranger. I'll help you. You don't deserve help, but I'll help you. Look at that paper you hold in your hand. What is it? What is it? He hesitated, Mr. Wopsle, eyeing it, much at a loss. Is it? pursued the stranger in his most sarcastic and suspicious manner. The printed paper you have just been reading from? Undoubtedly. Undoubtedly. Now turn to that paper and tell me whether it distinctly states that the prisoner expressly said that his legal advisors instructed him altogether to reserve his defense. I've read that just now, Mr. Wopsle pleaded. Never mind what you read just now, sir. I don't ask you what you read just now. You may read the Lord's Prayer backwards, if you like, and perhaps have done it before today. Turn to the paper. No, no, no, my friend, not to the top of the column, you know better than that, to the bottom, to the bottom. We all began to think Mr. Wopsle full of subterfuge. Well, have you found it? Here it is, said Mr. Wopsle. Now follow that passage with your eye and tell me whether it distinctly states that the prisoner expressly said that he was instructed by his legal advisors wholly to reserve his defense. Come, do you make that of it? Mr. Wopsle answered. Those are not the exact words. Not the exact words, repeated the gentleman bitterly. Is that the exact substance? Yes, said Mr. Wopsle. Yes, repeated the stranger, looking round at the rest of the company with his right hand extended towards the witness, Wopsle. And now I ask you what you say to the conscience of that man who, with that passage before his eyes, can lay his head upon his pillow after having pronounced a fellow creature guilty, unheard. We all began to suspect that Mr. Wopsle was not the man we had thought him, and that he was beginning to be found out. And that same man, remember, pursued the gentleman, throwing his finger at Mr. Wopsle heavily, that same man might be summoned as a juryman upon this very trial, and, having thus deeply committed himself, might return to the bosom of his family and lay his head upon his pillow after deliberately swearing that he would well and truly try the issue joined between our sovereign Lord the King and the prisoner at the bar, and would a true verdict give, according to the evidence, so help him God. We were all deeply persuaded that the unfortunate Wopsle had gone too far, and it better stop in his reckless career while there was yet time. The strange gentleman, with an air of authority not to be disputed, and with a manner expressive of knowing something secret about every one of us that would effectually do for each individual if he chose to disclose it, left the back of the settle and came into the space between the two settles, in front of the fire, where he remained standing, his left hand in his pocket, and he biting the forefinger of his right. From information I have received, said he, looking round at us as we all quailed before him, I have reason to believe there is a black smith among you, by name Joseph or Joe Gargery, which is the man. Here is the man, said Joe. The strange gentleman beckoned him out of his place, and Joe went. You have an apprentice, pursued the stranger, commonly known as Pip. Is he here? I am here, I cried. The stranger did not recognize me, but I recognized him as the gentleman I had met on the stairs, on the occasion of my second visit to Miss Havisham. I had known him the moment I saw him looking over the settle, and now that I stood confronting him with his hand upon my shoulder I checked off again in detail his large head, his dark complexion, his deep-set eyes, his bushy black eyebrows, his large watch chain, his strong black dots of beard and whisker, and even the smell of scented soap on his great hand. I wish to have a private conference with you, too, said he when he had surveyed me at his leisure. It will take a little time. Perhaps we had better go to your place of residence. I prefer not to anticipate my communication here. You will impart as much or as little of it as you pleased your friends afterwards. I have nothing to do with that. Amidst a wandering silence we three walked out of the jolly bargeman, and in a wandering silence walked home. While going along the strange gentleman occasionally looked at me, and occasionally bit the side of his finger. As we neared home Joe vaguely acknowledging the occasion as an impressive and ceremonious one went on ahead to open the front door. Our conference was held in the State Parlor which was feebly lighted by one candle. It began with the strange gentleman sitting down at the table, drawing the candle to him and looking over some entries in his pocket-book. He then put up the pocket-book and set the candle a little aside after peering round it into the darkness at Joe and me to ascertain which was which. My name, he said, is Jaggers, and I am a lawyer in London. I am pretty well known. I have unusual business to transact with you, and I commence by explaining that it is not of my originating. If my advice had been asked I should not have been here. It was not asked, and you see me here. What I have to do is the confidential agent of another, I do. No less, no more. Finding that he could not see us very well from where he sat, he got up and threw one leg over the back of a chair and leaned upon it, thus having one foot on the seat of the chair and one foot on the ground. Now Joseph Gargery, I am the bearer of an offer to relieve you of this young fellow, your apprentice. You would not object to cancel his indentures at his request and for his good. You would want nothing for so doing? Lord forbid that I should want anything for not standing in Pip's way, said Joe, staring. Lord forbidding his pious but not to the purpose, return Mr. Jaggers. The question is, would you want anything? Do you want anything? The answer is, return Joe, sternly. No. I thought Mr. Jaggers glanced at Joe, as if he considered him a fool for his disinterestedness. But I was too much bewildered between breathless curiosity and surprise to be sure of it. Very well, said Mr. Jaggers, recollect the admission you have made and don't try to go from it presently. Who's it going to try? Retorted Joe. I don't say anybody is. Do you keep a dog? Yes, I do keep a dog. Bear in mind, then, that Bragg is a good dog, but Holdfast is a better. Bear that in mind, will you? Repeated Mr. Jaggers, shutting his eyes and nodding his head at Joe, as if he were forgiving him something. Now I return to this young fellow, and the communication I have got to make is that he has great expectations. Joe and I gasped and looked at one another. I am instructed to communicate to him, said Mr. Jaggers, throwing his finger at me sideways, that he will come into a handsome property, further, that it is the desire of the present possessor of that property, that he be immediately removed from his present sphere of life and from this place, and be brought up as a gentleman, in a word, as a young fellow of great expectations. My dream was out. My wild fancy was surpassed by sober reality. Miss Havisham was going to make my fortune on a grand scale. Now Mr. Pip pursued the lawyer. I addressed the rest of what I have to say to you. You are to understand first that it is the request of the person from whom I take my instructions, that you always bear the name of Pip. You will have no objection, I daresay, to your great expectations being encumbered with that easy condition. But if you have any objections, this is the time to mention it. My heart was beating so fast, and there was such a singing in my ears, that I could scarcely stammer I had no objection. I should think not. Now you are to understand, secondly, Mr. Pip, that the name of the person who is your liberal benefactor remains a profound secret, until the person chooses to reveal it. I am empowered to mention that it is the intention of the person to reveal it at first hand by word of mouth to yourself. When or where that intention may be carried out, I cannot say. No one can say. It may be yours hence. Now you are distinctly to understand that you are most positively prohibited from making any inquiry on this head, or any illusion or reference, however distant to any individual whom soever as the individual, in all the communications you may have with me. If you have a suspicion in your own breast, keep that suspicion in your own breast. It is not the least to the purpose what the reasons of this prohibition are. They may be the strongest and gravest reasons, or they may be mere whim. This is not for you to inquire into. The condition is laid down. Your acceptance of it and your observance of it is binding, is the only remaining condition that I am charged with by the person from whom I take my instructions, and for whom I am not otherwise responsible. That person is the person from whom you derive your expectations, and this secret is solely held by that person and by me. Again, not a very difficult condition with which to encumber such a rise in fortune, but if you have any objection to it, this is the time to mention it. Speak out! Once more I stammered with difficulty that I had no objection. I should think not. Now, Mr. Pip, I have done with stipulations. Though he called me Mr. Pip, and began rather to make up to me, he still could not get rid of a certain air of bullying suspicion, and even now he occasionally shut his eyes and threw his finger at me while he spoke, as much as to express that he knew all kinds of things to my disparagement, if he only chose to mention them. We come next to mere details of arrangement. You must know that, although I have used the term expectations more than once, you are not endowed with expectations only. There is already lodged in my hands a sum of money amply sufficient for your suitable education and maintenance. You will please consider me your guardian, oh, for I was going to thank him. I tell you at once I am paid for my services, or I shouldn't render them. It is considered that you must be better educated in accordance with your altered position, and that you will be alive to the importance and necessity of it once entering on that advantage. I said I had always longed for it. Never mind what you have always longed for, Mr. Pip," he retorted, "'Keep to the record. If you long for it now, that's enough. Am I answered that you are ready to be placed at once under some proper tutor? Is that it?' I stammered, yes, that was it. Good! Now your inclinations are to be consulted. I don't think that wise, mind, but it's my trust. Have you ever heard of any tutor whom you would prefer to another?" I had never heard of any tutor but Biddy, and Mr. Wopsle's great ant, so I replied in the negative. There is a certain tutor of whom I have some knowledge who I think might suit the purpose, said Mr. Jaggers. I don't recommend him, observe, because I never recommend anybody. The gentleman I speak of is one Mr. Matthew Pocket. Ah! I caught it the name directly, Miss Havisham's relation, the Matthew whom Mr. and Mrs. Camilla had spoken of, the Matthew whose place was to be at Miss Havisham's head when she lay dead in her bride's dress on the bride's table. "'You know the name?' said Mr. Jaggers, looking shrewdly at me, and then shutting up his eyes while he waited for my answer. My answer was that I had heard of the name. "'Oh!' said he. "'You have heard of the name. But the question is what you say of it.' I said or tried to say that I was much obliged to him for his recommendation. "'No, my young friend,' he interrupted, shaking his great head very slowly, "'recollect yourself.' Not recollecting myself, I began again that I was much obliged to him for his recommendation. "'No, my young friend,' he interrupted, shaking his head and frowning and smiling both at once. "'No, no, no. It's very well done, but it won't do. You are too young to fix me with it. Recommendation is not the word, Mr. Pip. Try another.' Recollecting myself, I said that I was much obliged to him for his mention of Mr. Matthew Pocket. "'That's more like it,' cried Mr. Jaggers, and I added I would gladly try that gentleman. "'Good! You had better try him in his own house. The way shall be prepared for you, and you can see his son first, who is in London. When will you come to London?' I said, glancing at Joe, who stood looking on, motionless, that I supposed I could come directly. "'First,' said Mr. Jaggers, "'you should have some new clothes to come in, and they should not be working clothes. Say this day week. You'll want some money. Shall I leave you twenty guineas?' He produced a long purse with the greatest coolness and counted them out on the table, and pushed them over to me. This was the first time he had taken his leg from the chair. He sat astride of that chair when he had pushed for the money over, and sat swinging his purse and eyeing Joe. "'Well, Joseph Gargery, you look dumbfounded.' "'I am,' said Joe, in a very decided manner. "'It was understood that you wanted nothing for yourself, remember?' "'It were understood,' said Joe, "'and it are understood. But it ever will be, similar recording.' "'But what?' said Mr. Jaggers, swinging his purse. "'What if it was in my instructions to make you a present as compensation?' "'As compensation? What for?' Joe demanded. "'For the loss of his services.' Joe laid his hand upon my shoulder with a touch of a woman. I have often thought him since, like the steam hammer that can crush a man, or pat an eggshell, in his combination of strength with gentleness.' "'Pip is that hearty welcome,' said Joe, to go free with his services, to honor and fortune, as no words can tell him. But if you think his money can make a compensation to me for the loss of the little child, what come to the forge, and ever the best of friends?' "'Oh, dear good Joe, whom I was so ready to leave and so unthankful to, I see you again, with your muscular blacksmith's arm before your eyes, and your broad chest heaving, and your voice dying away. "'Oh, dear good faithful tender, Joe!' I feel the loving tremble of your hand upon my arm, as solemnly this day as if it had been the rustle of an angel's wing. But I encouraged Joe at the time. I was lost in the mazes of my future fortunes, and could not retrace the bypass we had trodden together. I begged Joe to be comforted, for, as he said, we had ever been the best of friends, and, as I said, we ever would be so. Joe scooped his eyes with his disengaged wrist, as if he were bent on gouging himself, but said not another word. Mr. Jaggers had looked on at this, as one who recognized in Joe the village idiot, and in me his keeper. When it was over, he said, weighing in his hand the purse he had ceased to swing. "'Now, Joseph Gargery, I warn you, this is your last chance. No half measures with me. If you mean to take a present, then I have it in charge to make you. Speak out, and you shall have it. If on the contrary you mean to say, here to his great amazement, he was stopped by Joe's suddenly working round him with every demonstration of a foul pugilistic purpose. "'Which I mean to say,' cried Joe, that if you come into my place bull-baiting and badgering me, come out. Which I mean to say, as such is your man, come on. Which I mean to say, that what I say, I mean to say, and stand or fall by.' I drew Joe away, and he immediately became placable, merely stating to me, in an obliging manner, and as a polite expostulatory notice to any one whom it might happen to concern, that he were not a going to be bull-baited and badgered in his own place. Mr. Jaggers had risen when Joe demonstrated, and had backed near the door. Without evincing any inclination to come in again, he there delivered his valedictory remarks. They were these. "'Well, Mr. Pip, I think the sooner you leave here, as you are to be a gentleman, the better. Let it stand for this day week, and you shall receive my printed address in the meantime. You can take a hackney coach at the stagecoach office in London, and come straight to me. Understand that I express no opinion one way or other on the trust I undertake. I am paid for undertaking it, and I do so. Now understand that, finally. Understand that.' He was throwing his finger at both of us, and I think would have gone on, but for his seeming to think Joe dangerous, and going off. Something came into my head which induced me to run after him, as he was going down to the Jolly Bargeman, where he had left a hired carriage. "'I beg your pardon, Mr. Jaggers.' "'Hello?' said he, facing round. "'What's the matter?' "'I wish to be quite right, Mr. Jaggers, and to keep to your opinions, so I thought I had better ask. Would there be any objection to my taking leave of any one I know about here before I go away?' "'No,' said he, looking as if he hardly understood me. "'I don't mean in the village only, but uptown?' "'No,' said he. "'No objection.' I thanked him and ran home again, and there I found that Joe had already locked the front door and vacated the state parlor and was seated by the kitchen fire with a hand on each knee, gazing intently at the burning coals. I too sat down before the fire and gazed at the coals, and nothing was said for a long time. My sister was in her cushion chair in her corner, and Biddy sat at her needlework before the fire, and Joe sat next Biddy, and I sat next Joe in the corner opposite my sister. The more I looked into the glowing coals, the more incapable I became of looking at Joe. The longer the silence lasted, the more unable I felt to speak. At length I got out. "'Joe, have you told Biddy?' "'No, Pip,' returned Joe, still looking at the fire, and holding his knees tight, as if he had private information that they intended to make off somewhere. "'Which I left to yourself, Pip.' "'I would rather you told Joe.' "'Pip's a gentleman of fortune, then,' said Joe, and God bless him in it.' Biddy dropped her work and looked at me. Joe held his knees and looked at me. I looked at both of them. After a pause they both heartily congratulated me, but there was a certain touch of sadness in their congratulations that I rather resented. I took it upon myself to impress Biddy, and through Biddy, Joe, with a grave obligation I considered my friends under, to know nothing and say nothing about the maker of my fortune. It would all come out in good time, I observed, and in the meanwhile nothing was to be said, say that I had come into great expectations from a mysterious patron. Biddy nodded her head thoughtfully at the fire as she took up her work again, and said she would be very particular. Joe, still detaining his knees, said, "'I, I, I'll be eagerly particular, Pip.' And then they congratulated me again, and went on to express so much wonder at the notion of my being a gentleman that I didn't half like it.' Infinite pains were then taken by Biddy to convey to my sister some idea of what had happened. To the best of my belief those efforts entirely failed. She laughed and nodded her head a great many times, and even repeated after Biddy the words Pip and Property. But I doubt if they had more meaning in them than an election cry, and I cannot suggest a darker picture of her state of mind. I never could have believed it without experience, but as Joe and Biddy became more at their cheerful ease again, I became quite gloomy. Disatisfied with my fortune, of course I could not be, but it is possible that I may have been, without quite knowing it, dissatisfied with myself. Anyhow, I sat with my elbow on my knee and my face upon my hand, looking into the fire, as those two talk about my going away, and about what they should do without me, and all that. And whenever I caught one of them looking at me, though never so pleasantly, and they often looked at me, particularly Biddy, I felt offended, as if they were expressing some mistrust of me, though heaven knows they never did by word or sign. At those times I would get up and look out at the door, for our kitchen door opened at once upon the night, and stood open on summer evenings to air the room. The very stars to which I then raised my eyes, I'm afraid I took to be but poor and humble stars for glittering on the rustic objects among which I had passed my life. Every night, said I, when we sat at our supper of bread and cheese and beer, five more days, and then the day before the day, they'll soon go. Yes, Pip, observed Joe, whose voice sounded hollow in his beer-mug, they'll soon go. Soon, soon go, said Biddy. I have been thinking, Joe, that when I go downtown on Monday and order my new clothes, I shall tell the tailor that I'll come and put them on there, or that I'll have them set to Mr. Pumblechucks. It would be very disagreeable to be stared at by all the people here. Mr. and Mrs. Hubbell might like to see you in your new gentile figure, too, Pip, said Joe, industriously cutting his bread with his cheese on it in the palm of his left hand and glancing at my untasted supper as if he thought of the time when we used to compare slices. Joe might wopsel, and the jolly bargeman might take it as a compliment. That's just what I don't want, Joe. They would make such a business of it, such a course and common business that I couldn't bear myself. Ah, that indeed, Pip, said Joe, if you couldn't bear yourself. Biddy asked me here as she sat holding my sister's plate. Have you thought about when you'll show yourself to Mr. Gaggery and your sister and me? You will show yourself to us, won't you? Biddy, I returned with some resentment, you are so exceedingly quick that it's difficult to keep up with you. She always wore a quick, observed Joe. If you had waited another moment, Biddy, you would have heard me say that I shall bring my clothes here in a bundle one evening, most likely on the evening before I go away. Biddy said no more. Personally forgiving her I soon exchanged an affectionate good night with her and Joe, and went up to bed. When I got into my little room I sat down and took a long look at it, as a mean little room that I should soon be pardoned from and raised above, for ever. It was furnished with fresh young remembrances too, and even at the same moment I fell into much the same confused division of mind between it and the better rooms to which I was going, as I had been and so often between the forge and mis-havishams, and Biddy and Estella. The sun had been shining brightly all day on the roof of my attic, and the room was warm. As I put the window open and stood looking out, I saw Joe come slowly forth at the dark door below, and take a turn or two in the air, and then I saw Biddy come and bring him a pipe and light it for him. He never smoked so late, and it seemed to hint to me that he wanted comforting, for some reason or other. He presently stood at the door immediately beneath me, smoking his pipe, and Biddy stood there too, quietly talking to him, and I knew that they talked of me, for I heard my name mentioned in an endearing tone by both of them more than once. I would not have listened for more, if I could have heard more, so I drew away from the window, and sat down in my one chair by the bedside, feeling it very sorrowful and strange that this first night of my bright fortunes should be the loneliest I had ever known. Looking towards the open window I saw light wreaths from Joe's pipe floating there, and I fancied it was like a blessing from Joe, not obtruded on me or paraded before me, but pervading the air we shared together. I put my light out, and crept into bed, and it was an uneasy bed now, and I never slept the old sound sleep in it any more. CHAPTER 19 This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, CHAPTER XIX Morning made a considerable difference in my general prospect of life, and brightened it so much that it scarcely seemed the same. What lay heaviest on my mind was the consideration that six days intervened between me and the day of departure, for I could not divest myself of a misgiving that something might happen to London in the meanwhile, and that when I got there it would be either greatly deteriorated or clean gone. Joe and Biddy were very sympathetic and pleasant when I spoke of our approaching separation, but they only referred to it when I did. After breakfast Joe brought out my indentures from the press in the best parlor, and we put them in the fire, and I felt that I was free. With all the novelty of my emancipation on me I went to church with Joe, and thought perhaps the clergyman wouldn't have read that about the rich man in the kingdom of heaven if he had known all. After our early dinner I strolled out alone, proposing to finish off the marshes at once, and to get them done with. As I passed the church I felt, as I had felt during service in the morning, a sublime compassion for the poor creatures who were destined to go there, Sunday after Sunday, all their lives through, and to lie obscurely at last among the low green mounds. I promised myself that I would do something for them one of these days, and formed a plan in outline for bestowing a dinner of roast beef and plum pudding, a pint of ale and a gallon of condescension upon everybody in the village. If I had often thought before, with something allied to shame, of my companionship with the fugitive whom I had once seen limping among those graves, what were my thoughts on this Sunday when the place recalled the wretch, ragged and shivering, with his felon-iron embatch? My comfort was that it happened a long time ago, and that he had doubtless been transported a long way off, and that he was dead to me, it might be veritably dead into the bargain. No more low wet grounds, no more dykes and sluices, no more of these grazing cattle, though they seemed in their dull manner to wear a more respectful air now, and to face round in order that they might stare as long as possible at the possessor of such great expectations. Farewell, monotonous acquaintances of my childhood! Henceforth I was for London and greatness, not for Smith's work in general, and for you. I made my exultant way to the old battery, and, lying down there to consider the question whether Miss Havisham intended me for Estella, fell asleep. When I awoke I was much surprised to find Joe sitting beside me, smoking his pipe. He greeted me with a cheerful smile on my opening my eyes, and said, As be in the last time, Pip, I thought I'd faller. And Joe, I'm very glad you did so. Thank you, Pip. You may be sure, dear Joe. I went on after we had shaken hands, that I shall never forget you. No, no, Pip, said Joe, in a comfortable tone. I'm sure of that. I, I, old chap, bless you, it were only necessary to get it well round in a man's mind to be certain on it. But it took a bit of time to get it well round, the change come so uncommon plump, didn't it? Somehow I was not best pleased with Joe's being so mightily secure of me. I should have liked him to have betrayed emotion, or to have said, It does your credit, Pip, or something of that sort. Therefore I made no remark on Joe's first head, merely saying as to a second that the tidings had indeed come suddenly, but that I had always wanted to be a gentleman, and had often and often speculated on what I would do, if I were one. Have you, though, said Joe? Astonishing! It's a pity now, Joe, said I, that you did not get on a little more when we had our lessons here, isn't it? Well, I don't know, returned Joe. I'm so awful dull. I'm only master of my own trade. It were always a pity as I was so awful dull, but it's no more of a pity now than it was this day twelve-month, don't you see? What I had meant was, that when I came into my property and was able to do something for Joe, it would have been much more agreeable if he had been better qualified for a rise in station. He was so perfectly innocent of my meaning, however, that I thought I would mention it to Biddy in preference. So when we had walked home and had had tea, I took Biddy into our little garden by the side of the lane, and after throwing out in a general way for the elevation of her spirits, that I should never forget her, said I had a favour to ask of her. And it is, Biddy, said I, that you will not omit any opportunity of helping Joe on a little. How helping him on, asked Biddy with a steady sort of glance? Well, Joe is a dear good fellow. In fact, I think he is the dearest fellow that ever lived, but he is rather backward in some things. For instance, Biddy, in his learning and his manners. Although I was looking at Biddy as I spoke, and although she opened her eyes very wide when I had spoken, she did not look at me. Oh, his manners! Won't his manners do then? asked Biddy, plucking a black current leaf. My dear Biddy, they do very well here. Oh, they do very well here! interrupted Biddy, looking closely at the leaf in her hand. Hear me out. But if I were to remove Joe into a higher sphere, as I shall hope to remove him when I fully come into my property, they would hardly do him justice. And don't you think he knows that? asked Biddy. It was such a very provoking question. For it had never in the most distant manner occurred to me, that I said snappishly, Biddy, what do you mean? Biddy, having rubbed the leaf to pieces between her hands, and the smell of a black current bush as ever since recalled to me that evening in the little garden on the side of the lane, said, Have you never considered that he may be proud? Proud? I repeated with disdainful emphasis. Oh, there are many kinds of pride, said Biddy, looking full at me and shaking her head. Pride is not all of one kind. Well, what are you stopping for? said I. Not all of one kind, resumed Biddy. He may be too proud to let any one take him out of a place that he is competent to fill, and fills well and with respect. To tell you the truth, I think he is, though it sounds bold in me to say so, for you must know him far better than I do. Now, Biddy, said I, I'm very sorry to see this in you. I did not expect to see this in you. You are envious, Biddy, and grudging. You are dissatisfied on account of my rise in fortune, and you can't help showing it. If you have the heart to think so, returned Biddy, say so, say so over and over again, if you have the heart to think so. If you have the heart to be so, you mean Biddy, said I, in a virtuous and superior tone, don't put it off upon me. I am very sorry to see it, and it's a bad side of human nature. I did intend to ask you to use any little opportunities you might have after I was gone of improving, dear Joe. But after this I ask you nothing. I am extremely sorry to see this in you, Biddy. I repeated, It's a bad side of human nature. Whether you scold me or approve of me, returned poor Biddy, you may equally depend upon my trying to do all that lies in my power here at all times, and whatever opinion you take away of me shall make no difference in my remembrance of you. Yet a gentleman should not be unjust, neither, said Biddy, turning away her head. I again warmly repeated that it was a bad side of human nature, in which sentiment, waving its application, I have since seen reason to think I was right. And I walked down the little path away from Biddy, and Biddy went into the house, and I went out at the garden gate and took a dejected stroll until supper time, again feeling it very sorrowful and strange that this, the second night of my bright fortunes, should be as lonely and unsatisfactory as the first. But morning once more brightened my view, and I extended my clemency to Biddy, and we dropped the subject. Putting on the best clothes I had, I went into town as early as I could hope to find the shops open, and presented myself before Mr. Trabbe, the tailor, who was having his breakfast in the parlor behind his shop, and who did not think it worth his while to come out to me, but called me in to him. Well, said Mr. Trabbe, in a hail-fellow well-met kind of way, how are you, and what can I do for you? Mr. Trabbe had sliced his hot roll into three feather-beds, and was slipping butter in between the blankets and covering it up. He was a prosperous old bachelor, and his open window looked into a prosperous little garden and orchard, and there was a prosperous iron safe led into the wall at the side of his fireplace, and I did not doubt that heaps of his prosperity were put away in it in bags. Mr. Trabbe, said I, it's an unpleasant thing to have to mention, because it looks like boasting, but I have come into a handsome property. A change passed over Mr. Trabbe. He forgot the butter in bed, got up from the bedside, and wiped his fingers on the tablecloth, exclaiming, Lord bless my soul! I am going up to my guardian in London, said I, casually drawing some guineas out of my pocket and looking at them, and I want a fashionable suit of clothes to go in. I wish to pay for them, I added, otherwise I thought he might only pretend to make them, with ready money. My dear sir, said Mr. Trabbe, as he respectfully bent his body, opened his arms, and took the liberty of touching me on the outside of each elbow. Don't hurt me by mentioning that! May I venture to congratulate you! Would you do me the favour of stepping into the shop? Mr. Trabbe's boy was the most audacious boy in all that countryside. When I had entered he was sweeping the shop, and he had sweetened his labours by sweeping over me. He was still sweeping when I came out into the shop with Mr. Trabbe, and he knocked the broom against all possible corners and obstacles, to express, as I understood it, equality with any blacksmith, alive or dead. Hold that noise, said Mr. Trabbe, with the greatest sternness, or I'll knock your head off. Do me the favour to be seated, sir. Now this, said Mr. Trabbe, taking down a roll of cloth, and tidying it out in a flowing manner over the counter, preparatory to getting his hand under it to show the gloss, is a very sweet article. I can recommend it for your purpose, sir, because it really is extra super. But you shall see some others. Give me number four, you! to the boy, and with a dreadfully severe stare, for seeing the danger of that miscreance brushing me with it, or making some other sign of familiarity. Mr. Trabbe never removed his stern eye from the boy until he had deposited number four on the counter, and was at a safe distance again. Then he commanded him to bring number five and number eight. And let me have none of your tricks here, said Mr. Trabbe, or you shall repent it, you young scoundrel, the longest day you have to live. Mr. Trabbe then bent over number four, and in a sort of deferential confidence recommended it to me as a light article for summerware, an article much in vogue among the nobility and gentry, an article that it would ever be an honour to him to reflect upon a distinguished fellow townsman's, if he might claim me for a fellow townsman, having worn. Are you bringing numbers five and eight, you vagabond? said Mr. Trabbe to the boy after that, or shall I kick you out of the shop and bring them myself? I selected the materials for a suit with the assistance of Mr. Trabbe's judgment, and re-entered the parlor to be measured. For although Mr. Trabbe had my measure already, and had previously been quite contented with it, he said apologetically that it wouldn't do under existing circumstances, sir, wouldn't do at all. So Mr. Trabbe measured and calculated me in the parlor, as if I were an estate and he the finest species of surveyor, and gave himself such a world of trouble that I felt that no suit of clothes could possibly remunerate him for his pains. When he had at last done and had appointed to send the articles to Mr. Pumblechooks on the Thursday evening, he said, with his hand upon the parlor lock, I know, sir, that London gentlemen cannot be expected to patronize local work as a rule. But if you would give me a turn now and then in the quality of a townsman, I should greatly esteem it. Good morning, sir. Much obliged. Door The last word was flung at the boy, who had not the least notion what it meant. But I saw him collapse as his master rubbed me out with his hands, and my first decided experience of the stupendous power of money was that it had morally laid upon his back, Trabbe's boy. After this memorable event I went to the Hatters and the Bootmakers and the Hoziers, and felt rather like Mother Hubbard's dog whose outfit required the services of so many trades. I also went to the coach office and took my place for seven o'clock on Saturday morning. It was not necessary to explain everywhere that I had come into a handsome property, but whenever I said anything to that effect, it followed that the officiating tradesmen ceased to have his attention diverted through the window by the high street and concentrated his mind upon me. When I had ordered everything I wanted, I directed my steps towards Pumblechooks, and as I approached that gentleman's place of business, I saw him standing at his door. He was waiting for me with great impatience. He had been out early with a Shezkart, and had called at the forge and heard the news. He had prepared a collation for me in the Barnwell Parlor, and he too ordered his shopman to come out of the gangway, as my sacred person passed. My dear friend! said Mr. Pumblechook, taking me by both hands when he and I in the collation were alone, I give you joy of your good fortune! Well deserved! Well deserved! This was coming to the point, and I thought it a sensible way of expressing himself. To think, said Mr. Pumblechook, after snorting admiration at me for some moments, that I should have been the humble instrument of leading up to this is a proud reward. I begged Mr. Pumblechook to remember that nothing was to be ever said or hinted on that point. My dear young friend! said Mr. Pumblechook, if you will allow me to call you so. I remembered certainly. And Mr. Pumblechook took me by both hands again, and I communicated a movement to his waistcoat, which had an emotional appearance, though it was rather low down. My dear young friend! rely upon my doing my little all in your absence, by keeping the fact before the mind of Joseph. Joseph! said Mr. Pumblechook, in the way of a compassionate adoration. Joseph! Joseph! Thereupon he shook his head and tapped it, expressing his sense of deficiency in Joseph. But my dear young friend! said Mr. Pumblechook, you must be hungry. You must be exhausted. Be seated. Here is a chicken had round from the boar. Here is a tongue had round from the boar. Here's one or two little things had round from the boar that I hope you may not despise. But do I? said Mr. Pumblechook, getting up again the moment after he had sat down. See a for me? Him as I ever sported with in his times of happy infancy, and may I, may I, this may I, meant mighty shake hands. I consented and he was fervent and then sat down again. Here is wine, said Mr. Pumblechook. Let us drink, thanks to fortune, and may she ever pick out her favorites with equal judgment. And yet I cannot, said Mr. Pumblechook, getting up again. See a for me one, and likewise drink to one, without again expressing, may I, may I? I said he might, and he shook hands with me again, and emptied his glass and turned it upside down. I did the same, and if I had turned myself upside down before drinking, the wine could not have gone more direct to my head. Mr. Pumblechook helped me to the liver wing and to the best slice of tongue, none of those out of the way, no thoroughfares of pork now, and took, comparatively speaking, no care of himself at all. Ah, poultry, poultry, you little thought, said Mr. Pumblechook, apostrophizing the foul in the dish, when you was a young fledgling, what was in store for you? You little thought you was to be refreshment beneath this humble roof, for one is, call it a weakness, if you will, said Mr. Pumblechook, getting up again. But may I, may I? It began to be unnecessary to repeat the form of saying he might, so he did it at once. How he ever did it so often without wounding himself with my knife, I don't know. And your sister, he resumed after a little steady eating, which had the honor of bringing you up by hand. It's a sad picture, to reflect that she's no longer equal to fully understanding the honor. May I saw he was about to come at me again, and I stopped him. We'll drink her health, said I. Ah, cried Mr. Pumblechook, leading back in his chair, quite flaccid with admiration. That's the way you know him, sir. I don't know who sir was, but he certainly was not I, and there was no third person present. That's the way you know the noble-minded, sir, ever forgiving and ever affable. It might, said the servile Pumblechook, putting down his untasted glass in a hurry and getting up again, to a common person, have the appearance of repeating, but may I? When he had done it, he resumed his seat and drank to my sister. Let us never be blind, said Mr. Pumblechook, to her faults of temper, but is to be hoped she meant well. At about this time, I began to observe that he was getting flushed in the face, as to myself, I felt all face, steeped in wine and smarting. I mentioned to Mr. Pumblechook that I wished to have my new clothes sent to his house, and he was ecstatic on my so distinguishing him. I mentioned my reason for desiring to avoid observation in the village, and he lauded it to the skies. There was nobody but himself, he intimated, worthy of my confidence, and, in short, might he? Then he asked me tenderly if I remembered our boyish games at Sums and how we had gone together to have me bound apprentice, and, in effect, how he had ever been my favorite fancy and my chosen friend. If I had taken ten times as many glasses of wine as I had, I should have known that he never had stood in that relation towards me, and should, in my heart of hearts, have repudiated the idea. Yet for all that, I remember feeling convinced that I had been much mistaken in him, and that he was a sensible, practical, good-hearted, prime fellow. By degrees he fell to reposing such great confidence in me as to ask my advice in reference to his own affairs. He mentioned that there was an opportunity for a great amalgamation and monopoly of the corn and seed trade on those premises, if enlarged, such as had never occurred before in that or any other neighborhood. What alone was wanting to the realization of a vast fortune he considered to be more capital? Those were the two little words, more capital. Now it appeared to him, Pumblechook, that if that capital were got into the business through a sleeping partner, sir, which sleeping partner would have nothing to do but walk in, by self or deputy, whenever he pleased and examined the books, and walk in twice a year and take his profits away in his pocket to the tune of fifty percent, it appeared to him that that might be an opening for a young gentleman of spirit combined with property, which would be worthy of his attention. But what did I think? He had great confidence in my opinion, and what did I think? I gave it as my opinion. Wait a bit. The united vastness and distinctness of this view so struck him that he no longer asked if he might shake hands with me, but said he really must and did. We drank all the wine, and Mr. Pumblechook pledged himself over and over again to keep Joseph up to the mark. I don't know what mark, and to render me efficient and constant service. I don't know what service. He also made known to me for the first time in my life, and certainly after having kept his secret wonderfully well, that he had always said of me, that boy is no common boy, and mark me, his fortune will be no common fortune. He said with a tearful smile that it was a singular thing to think of now, and I said so too. Finally I went out into the air with a dim perception that there was something unwanted in the conduct of the sunshine, and found that I had slumberously got to the turnpike without having taken any account of the road. There I was roused by Mr. Pumblechook's hailing me. It was a long way down the sunny street, and was making expressive gestures for me to stop. I stopped, and he came up breathless. No, my dear friend, said he when he had recovered wind for speech. Not if I can help it. This occasion shall not entirely pass without that affability on your part. May I, as an old friend and well-wisher, may I? We shook hands for the hundredth time at least, and he ordered a young Carter out of my way with the greatest indignation. Then he blessed me and stood waving his hand to me until I had passed the crook in the road, and then I turned into a field and had a long nap under a hedge before I pursued my way home. I had scant luggage to take with me to London, for little of the little I possessed was adapted to my new station, but I began packing that same afternoon and wildly packed up things that I knew I should want next morning in a fiction that there was not a moment to be lost. So Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday passed, and on Friday morning I went to Mr. Pumblechook's to put on my new clothes and pay my visit to Miss Havisham. Mr. Pumblechook's own room was given up to me to dress in and was decorated with clean towels expressly for the event. My clothes were rather a disappointment, of course. Probably every new and eagerly expected garment ever put on since clothes came in fell a trifle short of the wearer's expectation. But after I had had my new suit on for some half an hour and had gone through an immensity of posturing with Mr. Pumblechook's very limited dressing-glass in the futile endeavor to see my legs, it seemed to fit me better. It being market morning at a neighboring town some 10 miles off, Mr. Pumblechook was not at home. I had not told him exactly when I meant to leave and was not likely to shake hands with him again before departing. This was all as it should be, and I went out in my new array, fearfully ashamed of having to pass the shopman and suspicious after all that I was at a personal disadvantage, something like Joe's in his Sunday suit. I went circuitously to Miss Havishams by all the back ways and rang at the bell constrainedly on account of the stiff, long fingers of my gloves. Sarah Pocket came to the gate and positively reeled back when she saw me so changed. Her wallet-shell countenance likewise turned from brown to green and yellow. You, said she, you good gracious, what do you want? I am going to London, Miss Pocket, said I, and want to say goodbye to Miss Havisham. I was not expected, for she left me locked in the yard while she went to ask if I were to be admitted. After a very short delay, she returned and took me up, staring at me all the way. Miss Havisham was taking exercise in the room with a long-spread table leaning on her crutch stick. The room was lighted as of your and at the sound of our entrance, she stopped and turned. She was then just abreast of the rotted bread-cake. Don't go, Sarah, she said. Well, peep. I start for London, Miss Havisham, to-morrow. I was exceedingly careful what I said, and I thought you would kindly not mind my taking leave of you. This is a gay figure, peep, said she, making her crutch stick play round me, as if she, the fairy godmother who had changed me, were bestowing the finishing gift. I have come into such good fortune since I saw you last, Miss Havisham, I murmured, and I am so grateful for it, Miss Havisham. I, I, said she, looking at the discomforted and envious Sarah with delight. I have seen Mr. Jaggers, I have heard about it, peep. So you go to-morrow? Yes, Miss Havisham, and you are adopted by a rich person. Yes, Miss Havisham. Not named? No, Miss Havisham. And Mr. Jaggers is made your guardian? Yes, Miss Havisham. She quite gloated on these questions and answers, so keen was her enjoyment of Sarah Pocket's jealous dismay. Well, she went on, you have a promising career before you. Be good, deserve it, and abide by Mr. Jaggers' instructions. She looked at me and looked at Sarah, and Sarah's countenance wrung out of her watchful face a cruel smile. Goodbye, peep. You will always keep the name of peep, you know. Yes, Miss Havisham. Goodbye, peep. She stretched out her hand, and I went down on my knee and put it to my lips. I had not considered how I should take leave of her. It came naturally to me at the moment to do this. She looked at Sarah Pocket with triumph in her weird eyes, and so I left my fairy godmother, with both her hands on her crutch-stick, standing in the midst of the dimly-lighted room beside the rotten bride-cake that was hidden in cobwebs. Sarah Pocket conducted me down, as if I were a ghost who must be seen out. She could not get over my appearance and was in the last degree confounded. I said, Goodbye, Miss Pocket. But she merely stared, and did not seem collected enough to know that I had spoken. Clear of the house I made the best of my way back to Pumblechooks, took off my new clothes, made them into a bundle, and went back home in my older dress, carrying it. To speak the truth much more at my ease too, though I had the bundle to carry. And now those six days which were to have run out so slowly, had run out fast and were gone, and tomorrow looked me in the face more steadily than I could look at it. As the six evenings had dwindled away to five, to four, to three, to two, I had become more and more appreciative of the society of Joe and Biddy. On this last evening I dressed myself out in my new clothes for their delight, and sat in my splendor until bedtime. We had a hot supper on the occasion, graced by the inevitable roast fowl, and we had some flip to finish with. We were all very low, and none the higher for pretending to be in spirits. I was to leave our village at five in the morning, carrying my little hand portmanteau, and I had told Joe that I wished to walk away all alone. I am afraid, sore afraid, that this purpose originated in my sense of the contrast there would be between me and Joe if we went to the coach together. I had pretended with myself that there was nothing of this taint in the arrangement, but when I went up to my little room on this last night I felt compelled to admit that it might be so, and had an impulse upon me to go down again and entreat Joe to walk with me in the morning. I did not. All night there were coaches in my broken sleep going to wrong places instead of to London, and having in the traces now dogs, now cats, now pigs, now men, never horses. Fantastic failures of journeys occupied me until the day dawned and the birds were singing. Then I got up impartly dressed and sat at the window to take a last look out and in taking it fell asleep. Biddy was a stir so early to get my breakfast that although I did not sleep at the window an hour I smelt the smoke of the kitchen fire when I started up with a terrible idea that it must be late in the afternoon. But long after that, and long after I had heard the clinking of the tea-cups quite ready, I wanted the resolution to go downstairs. After all, I remained up there repeatedly unlocking and unstrapping my small portmanteau and locking and strapping it up again until Biddy called to me that I was late. It was a hurried breakfast with no taste in it. I got up from the meals saying with a sort of briskness as if it had only just occurred to me, well, I suppose I must be off. Then I kissed my sister who was laughing and nodding and shaking in her usual chair and kissed Biddy and threw my arms around Joe's neck. Then I took up my little portmanteau and walked out. The last I saw of them was when I presently heard a scuffle behind me and, looking back, saw Joe throwing an old shoe after me and Biddy throwing another old shoe. I stopped to wave my hat and dear old Joe waved his strong right arm and his head crying huskily, HURROR! and Biddy put her apron to her face. I walked away at a good pace thinking it was easier to go than I had supposed it would be and reflecting that it would never have done to have had an old shoe thrown after the coach inside of all the high street. I whistled and made nothing of going. But the village was very peaceful and quiet and the guests were solemnly rising as if to show me the world and I had been so innocent and little there and all beyond was so unknown and great that in a moment with a strong heave and sob I broke into tears. It was by the finger-post at the end of the village and I laid my hand upon it and said, Good-bye, oh my dear, dear friend! Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried than before. More sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle. If I had cried before, I should have had Joe with me then. So subdued I was by those tears and by their breaking out again in the course of the quiet walk that when I was on the coach and it was clear of the town, I deliberated with an aching heart whether I would not get down when we changed horses and walk back and have another evening at home and a better parting. We changed and I had not made up my mind and still reflected for my comfort that it would be quite practicable to get down and walk back when we changed again. And while I was occupied with those deliberations I would fancy an exact resemblance to Joe and some man coming along the road towards us and my heart would beat high as if he could possibly be there. We changed again and yet again and it was now too late and too far to go back and I went on and the mists had all solemnly risen now and the world lay spread before me. This is the end of the first stage of Pip's Expectations. End of Chapter 20 of Great Expectations This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. Chapter 20 The journey from our town to the metropolis was a journey of about five hours. It was a little past midday when the four-horse stagecoach by which I was a passenger got into the ravel of traffic frayed out about the cross-keys Wood Street, Cheapside, London. We Britons had at that time particularly settled that it was reasonable to doubt our having and our being the best of everything. Otherwise, while I was scared by the immensity of London I had some faint doubts whether it was not ugly, crooked, narrow, and dirty. Mr. Jaggers had duly sent me his address. It was Little Britain and he had written after it on his card just out of Smithfield and close by the coach office. Nevertheless a hackney coachman who seemed to have as many capes to his greasy greatcoat as he was years old packed me up in his coach and hemmed me in with a folding steps as if he were going to take me fifty miles. His getting on his box which I remember to have been decorated with an old weather-stained pea-green hammer-cloth moth-eaten into rags was quite a work of time. It was a wonderful equipage with six great coronets outside and ragged things behind for I don't know how many footmen to hold on by and a harrow below them to prevent amateur footmen from yielding I had scarcely had time to enjoy the coach and to think how like a straw-yard it was and yet how like a rag-shop and to wonder why the horse's nose bags were kept inside when I observed the coachman beginning to get down as if we were going to stop presently and stop we presently did in a gloomy street at certain offices with an open door whereon was painted Mr. Jaggers. How much? I asked the coachman. The coachman answered, I shilling, unless you wish to make it more. I naturally said I had no wish to make it more. Then it must be a shilling. Observe the coachman. I don't want to get into trouble. I know him. He darkly closed an eye at Mr. Jaggers' name and shook his head. When he had got his shilling and had in course of time completed the ascent to his box and it got away which appeared to relieve his mind I went into the front office with my little portmanteau in my hand and asked was Mr. Jaggers at home? He is not. Return the clerk. He is in court at present. Am I addressing Mr. Pip? I signified that he was addressing Mr. Pip. He was waiting in his room. He couldn't say how long he might be having a case on but it stands to reason his time being valuable that he won't be longer than he can help. With those words the clerk opened a door and ushered me into an inner chamber at the back. Here we found a gentleman with one eye in a velveteen suit and knee-breaches who wiped his nose with a sleeve on being interrupted in the perusal of the newspaper. Go and wait outside, Mike said the clerk. I began to say that I hoped I was not interrupting when the clerk shoved this gentleman out with his little ceremony as I ever saw used and tossing his fur cap out after him left me alone. Mr. Jaggers' room was lighted by a skylight only and was a most dismal place. The skylight eccentrically pitched like a broken head and the distorted adjoining houses looking as if they had twisted themselves to peep down at me through it. There were not so many papers about as I should have expected to see and there were some odd objects about that I should not have expected to see, such as an old rusty pistol, a sword and a scabbard, several strange-looking boxes and packages, and two dreadful casts on a shelf of faces peculiarly swollen and twitchy about the nose. Mr. Jaggers' own high-backed chair was of a deadly black horse-hair with rows of brass nails round it like a coffin and I fancied I could see how he leaned back in it and bit his forefinger at his clients. The room was but small and the clients seemed to have had a habit of backing up against the wall, the wall especially opposite to Mr. Jaggers' chair being greasy with shoulders. I recalled, too, that the one-eyed gentleman had shuffled forth against the wall when I was the innocent cause of his being turned out. I sat down in the clientile chair placed over against Mr. Jaggers' chair and became fascinated by the dismal atmosphere of the place. I called to mind that the clerk had the same air of knowing something to everybody else's disadvantage as his master had. I wondered how many other clerks there were upstairs all claimed to have the same detrimental mastery of their fellow-creatures. I wondered what was the history of all the odd litter about the room and how it came there. I wondered whether the two swollen faces were of Mr. Jaggers' family and if he were so unfortunate as to have had a pair of such ill-looking relations why he stuck them on that dusty perch for the blacks and flies to settle on instead of giving them a place at home. Of course I had no experience of a London summer day and my spirits may have been oppressed by the hot, exhausted air and by the dust and grit that lay thick on everything. But I sat wandering and waiting in Mr. Jaggers' closed room until I really could not bear the two casts on the shelf above Mr. Jaggers' chair and got up and went out. When I told the clerk that I would take a turn in the air to go round the corner and I should come into Smithfield. So I came into Smithfield and the shameful place, being all a smear with filth and fat and blood and foam, seemed to stick to me. So I rubbed it off with all possible speed by turning into a street where I saw the great black dome of St. Paul's bulging at me from behind a grim stone building which a bystander said was Newgate Prison. Following the wall of the jail I found the roadway covered with straw to deaden the noise of passing vehicles and from this and from the quantity of people standing about smelling strongly of spirits and beer I inferred that the trials were on. While I looked about me here an exceedingly dirty and partially drunk minister of justice asked me if I would like to step in and hear a trial or so, informing me that he could give me half a crown, once I should command a full view of the Lord Chief Justice in his wig and robes, mentioning that awful personage like waxwork and presently offering him at the reduced price of 18 pence. As I declined the proposal on the plea of an appointment he was so good as to take me into a yard and show me where the gallows was kept and also where people were publicly whipped and then he showed me the debtor's door out of which culprits came to be hanged, heightening the interest of that dreadful portal by giving me to understand that four on him would come out at that door the day after tomorrow at eight in the morning to be killed in a row. This was horrible, gave me a sickening idea of London, the more so as the Lord Chief Justice's proprietor wore from his hat down to his boots and up again to his pocket handkerchief inclusive mildewed clothes which had evidently not belonged to him originally in which I took it into my head he had bought cheap of the executioner. Under these circumstances I thought myself well rid of him for a shilling. I dropped into the office to ask if Mr. Jaggers had come in yet and I found he had not and I strolled out again. This time I made the tour of Little Britain and turned into Bartholomew clothes and now I became aware that other people were waiting about as well as I. There were two men of secret appearance lounging in Bartholomew clothes and thoughtfully fitting their feet into the cracks of the pavement as they talked together one of whom said to the other when they first passed me that Jaggers would do it if it was to be done. There was a knot of three men and two women standing at a corner and one of the women was crying on her dirty shawl and the other comforted her by saying to hold her own shawl over her shoulders Jaggers is for him, Melia, and what more could you have? There was a red-eyed little Jew who came into the clothes while I was laudering there in company with a second little Jew whom he had sent upon an errand and while the messenger was gone I remarked this Jew who was of a highly excitable temperament performing a jig of anxiety under a lamp-post and accompanying himself with a fancy with the words oh, Jaggers, Jaggers, Jaggers all other than kagmakers give me Jaggers these testimonies to the popularity of my guardia made a deep impression on me and I admired and wondered more than ever. At length, as I was looking out at the iron gate of Bartholomew clothes into Little Britain I saw Mr. Jaggers coming across the road towards me. All the others who were waiting was quite a rush at him. Mr. Jaggers putting a hand on my shoulder and walking me on at his side without saying anything to me addressed himself to his followers. First he took the two secret men. Now I have nothing to say to you, said Mr. Jaggers, throwing his finger at them. I want to know no more than I know. As to the result it's a toss-up. I told you from the first toss-up. Have you paid Wimmick? We've made the money up this morning, sir," said one of the men submissively while the other perused Mr. Jaggers face. I don't ask you when you made it up or where or whether you made it up at all. Has Wimmick got it? Yes, sir," said both the men together. Very well, then you may go. No, I won't have it," said Mr. Jaggers, waving his hand at them to put them behind him. If you say a word to me, I'll throw up the case. We thought, Mr. Jaggers, one of the men began pulling off his hat. That's what I told you not to do," said Mr. Jaggers. You thought. I think for you. That's enough for you. If I want you, I know where to find you. I don't want you to find me. Now I won't have it. I won't hear a word. The two men looked at one another as Mr. Jaggers waved them behind again and humbly fell back and were heard no more. And now you, said Mr. Jaggers, suddenly stopping and turning on the two women with the shawls from whom the three men had meekly separated. Oh, Amelia, is it? Yes, Mr. Jaggers. And do you remember, retorted Mr. Jaggers, that but for me you wouldn't be here and couldn't be here? Oh, yes, sir," exclaimed both women together. Lord bless you, sir. Well, we know that. Then why, said Mr. Jaggers, do you come here? My bill, sir," the crying woman pleaded. Now I tell you what, said Mr. Jaggers, once for all, if you don't know that your bill's in good hands, I know it. But if you come here bothering about your bill, I'll make an example of both your bill and you, and let him slip through my fingers. Have you paid, Wemmick?" Oh, yes, sir, heavy-father. Very well. And you have done all you have got to do. Say another word, one single word, and Wemmick shall give you your money back. This terrible threat caused the two women to fall off immediately. Well, but the excitable Jew who had already raised the skirts of Mr. Jaggers' coat to his lips several times. I don't know this man, said Mr. Jaggers, in the same devastating strain. What does this fellow want? My dear Mr. Jaggers, hone brother to Abraham Latharath? Who's he? said Mr. Jaggers. Let go of my coat. The suitor, kissing the hem while relinquishing it, replied, Abraham Latharath, on suspicion of play. You're too late, said Mr. Jaggers. I am over the way. Holy father, Mr. Jaggers, cried my excitable acquaintance, turning white. Don't say you're again Abraham Latharath. I am, said Mr. Jaggers, and there's an end of it. Get out of the way. Mr. Jaggers, have a moment. My home cousin's gone to Mr. Wemmick at this present minute to offer him any terms. Mr. Jaggers, have a quarter of a moment. If you'd have the condescension to be bought off from the other side at any superior price, money no object, Mr. Jaggers, Mr... My guardian threw his supplicant off with supreme indifference and left him dancing on the pavement After the interruption we reached the front office, where we found the clerk and the man in velveteen with the fur cap. Here's Mike, said the clerk, getting down from his stool and approaching Mr. Jaggers confidentially. Oh, said Mr. Jaggers, turning to the man who was pulling a lock of hair in the middle of his forehead, like the bull in Cock Robin pulling at the bell-rope. Your man comes on this afternoon. Well? Well, Mr. Jaggers returned Mike in the voice of a sufferer from a constitutional cold. After a deal of trouble I found one, sir, as Mike do. What is he prepared to swear? Well, Mr. Jaggers, said Mike, wiping his nose on his fur cap this time. In a general way, anything. Mr. Jaggers suddenly became most I rate. Now I warned you before, said he, throwing his forefinger at the terrified client, that if you ever presumed talking that way here, I'd make an example of you. You infernal scoundrel, how dare you tell me that? The client looks scared, but bewildered, too, as if he were unconscious what he had done. Spoonie, said the clerk in a low voice, giving him a stir with his elbow. Need you say it face to face? Now I asked you, you blundering booby, said my guardian very sternly, once more, and for the last time, what the man you have brought here is prepared to swear. Mike looked hard at my guardian as if he were trying to learn a lesson from his face and slowly replied, hither to character or having been in his company and never left him all the night in question. Now be careful in what station of life is this man? Mike looked at his cap and looked at the floor and looked at the ceiling and looked at the clerk and even looked at me before beginning to reply in a nervous manner, waved dressed him up like when my guardian blustered out, what you will, will you? Spoonie added the clerk again with another stir. After some helpless casting about, Mike brightened and began again. He is dressed like a spectable pieman, a sort of a pastry cook. Is he here? asked my guardian. I left him, said Mike, as setting on some door steps round the corner. Take him past that window and let me see him. The window indicated was the office window. We all three went to it behind the wire blind and presently saw the client go by in an accidental manner with a murderous looking tall individual in a short suit of white linen in a paper cap. This guileless confectioner was not by any means sober and had a black eye on the green stage of recovery which was painted over. Tell him to take his witness away directly, said my guardian to the clerk in extreme disgust and ask him what he means by bringing such a fellow as that. My guardian then took me into his own room and while he lunched, standing from a sandwich box and a pocket flask of sherry, he seemed to bully his very sandwich as he ate it, informed me what arrangements he had made for me. I was to go to Barnards Inn to young Mr. Pocket's rooms where a bed had been sent in accommodation. I was to remain with young Mr. Pocket until Monday. On Monday I was to go with him to his father's house on a visit that I might try how I liked it. Also I was told what my allowance was to be. It was a very liberal one and had handed to me from one of my guardian's drawers the cards of certain tradesmen with whom I was to deal for all kinds of clothes You will find your credit good, Mr. Pip," said my guardian, whose flask of sherry smelt like a whole cask full as he hastily refreshed himself. But I shall by this means be able to check your bills and to pull you up if I find you outrunning the constable. Of course you'll go wrong somehow but that's no fault of mine. After I had pondered a little over this encouraging sentiment I asked Mr. Jaggers if I could send for a coach. He said it was not worthwhile I was so near my destination Wemmick should walk round with me if I pleased. I then found that Wemmick was the clerk in the next room. Another clerk was wrung down from upstairs to take his place while he was out and I accompanied him into the street after shaking hands with my guardian. We found a new set of people lingering outside fully yet decisively. I