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Mysister,Mrs.JoeGargery,wasmorethantwentyyearsolderthanI,andhadestablishedagreatreputationwithherselfandtheneighboursbecauseshehadbroughtmeup“byhand.”
Havingatthattimetofindoutformyselfwhattheexpressionmeant,andknowinghertohaveahardandheavyhand,andtobemuchinthehabitoflayingituponherhusbandaswellasuponme,IsupposedthatJoeGargeryandIwerebothbroughtupbyhand.
Shewasnotagood—lookingwoman,mysister;andIhadageneralimpressionthatshemusthavemadeJoeGargerymarryherbyhand.
Joewasafairman,withcurlsofflaxenhaironeachsideofhissmoothface,andwitheyesofsuchaveryundecidedbluethattheyseemedtohavesomehowgotmixedwiththeirownwhites.
Hewasamild,good—natured,sweet—tempered,easy—going,foolish,dearfellow—asortofHerculesinstrength,andalsoinweakness.
Mysister,Mrs.Joe,withblackhairandeyes,hadsuchaprevailingrednessofskinthatIsometimesusedtowonderwhetheritwaspossibleshewashedherselfwithanutmeg—graterinsteadofsoap.
Shewastallandbony,andalmostalwaysworeacoarseapron,fastenedoverherfigurebehindwithtwoloops,andhavingasquareimpregnablebibinfront,thatwasstuckfullofpinsandneedles.
Shemadeitapowerfulmeritinherself,andastrongreproachagainstJoe,thatsheworethisapronsomuch.
ThoughIreallyseenoreasonwhysheshouldhavewornitatall:orwhy,ifshedidwearitatall,sheshouldnothavetakenitoff,everydayofherlife.
Joe’sforgeadjoinedourhouse,whichwasawoodenhouse,asmanyofthedwellingsinourcountrywere—mostofthem,atthattime.
WhenIranhomefromthechurchyard,theforgewasshutup,andJoewassittingaloneinthekitchen.
JoeandIbeingfellow—sufferers,andhavingconfidencesassuch,Joeimpartedaconfidencetome,themomentIraisedthelatchofthedoorandpeepedinathimoppositetoit,sittinginthechimneycorner.
“Mrs.Joehasbeenoutadozentimes,lookingforyou,Pip.Andshe’soutnow,makingitabaker’sdozen.”
“Isshe?”
“Yes,Pip,”saidJoe;“andwhat’sworse,she’sgotTicklerwithher.”
Atthisdismalintelligence,Itwistedtheonlybuttononmywaistcoatroundandround,andlookedingreatdepressionatthefire.
Ticklerwasawax—endedpieceofcane,wornsmoothbycollisionwithmytickledframe.
“Shesotdown,”saidJoe,“andshegotup,andshemadeagrabatTickler,andsheRam—pagedout.
That’swhatshedid,”saidJoe,slowlyclearingthefirebetweenthelowerbarswiththepoker,andlookingatit:“sheRam—pagedout,Pip.”
“Hasshebeengonelong,Joe?”Ialwaystreatedhimasalargerspeciesofchild,andasnomorethanmyequal.
“Well,”saidJoe,glancingupattheDutchclock,“she’sbeenontheRam—page,thislastspell,aboutfiveminutes,Pip.She’sa—coming!
Getbehindthedoor,oldchap,andhavethejack—towelbetwixtyou.”
Itooktheadvice.Mysister,Mrs.Joe,throwingthedoorwideopen,andfindinganobstructionbehindit,immediatelydivinedthecause,andappliedTicklertoitsfurtherinvestigation.
Sheconcludedbythrowingme—Ioftenservedasaconnubialmissile—atJoe,who,gladtogetholdofmeonanyterms,passedmeonintothechimneyandquietlyfencedmeuptherewithhisgreatleg.
“Wherehaveyoubeen,youyoungmonkey?”saidMrs.Joe,stampingherfoot.
“Tellmedirectlywhatyou’vebeendoingtowearmeawaywithfretandfrightandworrit,orI’dhaveyououtofthatcornerifyouwasfiftyPips,andhewasfivehundredGargerys.”
“Ihaveonlybeentothechurchyard,”saidI,frommystool,cryingandrubbingmyself.
“Churchyard!”repeatedmysister.“Ifitwarn’tformeyou’dhavebeentothechurchyardlongago,andstayedthere.Whobroughtyouupbyhand?”
“Youdid,”saidI.
“AndwhydidIdoit,Ishouldliketoknow?”exclaimedmysister.
Iwhimpered,“Idon’tknow.”
“Idon’t!”saidmysister.“I’dneverdoitagain!Iknowthat.
ImaytrulysayI’veneverhadthisapronofmineoff,sincebornyouwere.
It’sbadenoughtobeablacksmith’swife(andhimaGargery)withoutbeingyourmother.”
MythoughtsstrayedfromthatquestionasIlookeddisconsolatelyatthefire.
For,thefugitiveoutonthemarsheswiththeironedleg,themysteriousyoungman,thefile,thefood,andthedreadfulpledgeIwasundertocommitalarcenyonthoseshelteringpremises,rosebeforemeintheavengingcoals.
“Hah!”saidMrs.Joe,restoringTicklertohisstation.“Churchyard,indeed!Youmaywellsaychurchyard,youtwo.”
Oneofus,by—the—bye,hadnotsaiditatall.
“You’lldrivemetothechurchyardbetwixtyou,oneofthesedays,andoh,apr—r—reciouspairyou’dbewithoutme!”
Assheappliedherselftosetthetea—things,Joepeepeddownatmeoverhisleg,asifhewerementallycastingmeandhimselfup,andcalculatingwhatkindofpairwepracticallyshouldmake,underthegrievouscircumstancesforeshadowed.
Afterthat,hesatfeelinghisright—sideflaxencurlsandwhisker,andfollowingMrs.Joeaboutwithhisblueeyes,ashismanneralwayswasatsquallytimes.
Mysisterhadatrenchantwayofcuttingourbread—and—butterforus,thatnevervaried.
First,withherlefthandshejammedtheloafhardandfastagainstherbib—whereitsometimesgotapinintoit,andsometimesaneedle,whichweafterwardsgotintoourmouths.
Thenshetooksomebutter(nottoomuch)onaknifeandspreaditontheloaf,inanapothecarykindofway,asifsheweremakingaplaister—usingbothsidesoftheknifewithaslappingdexterity,andtrimmingandmouldingthebutteroffroundthecrust.
Then,shegavetheknifeafinalsmartwipeontheedgeoftheplaister,andthensawedaverythickroundofftheloaf:whichshefinally,beforeseparatingfromtheloaf,hewedintotwohalves,ofwhichJoegotone,andItheother.
Onthepresentoccasion,thoughIwashungry,Idarednoteatmyslice.
IfeltthatImusthavesomethinginreserveformydreadfulacquaintance,andhisallythestillmoredreadfulyoungman.
IknewMrs.Joe’shousekeepingtobeofthestrictestkind,andthatmylarcenousresearchesmightfindnothingavailableinthesafe.
ThereforeIresolvedtoputmyhunkofbread—and—butterdownthelegofmytrousers.
Theeffortofresolutionnecessarytotheachievementofthispurpose,Ifoundtobequiteawful.
ItwasasifIhadtomakeupmymindtoleapfromthetopofahighhouse,orplungeintoagreatdepthofwater.
AnditwasmadethemoredifficultbytheunconsciousJoe.
Inouralready—mentionedfreemasonryasfellow—sufferers,andinhisgood—naturedcompanionshipwithme,itwasoureveninghabittocomparethewaywebitthroughourslices,bysilentlyholdingthemuptoeachother’sadmirationnowandthen—whichstimulatedustonewexertions.
To—night,Joeseveraltimesinvitedme,bythedisplayofhisfast—diminishingslice,toenteruponourusualfriendlycompetition;buthefoundme,eachtime,withmyyellowmugofteaononeknee,andmyuntouchedbread—and—butterontheother.
Atlast,IdesperatelyconsideredthatthethingIcontemplatedmustbedone,andthatithadbestbedoneintheleastimprobablemannerconsistentwiththecircumstances.
ItookadvantageofamomentwhenJoehadjustlookedatme,andgotmybread—and—butterdownmyleg.
Joewasevidentlymadeuncomfortablebywhathesupposedtobemylossofappetite,andtookathoughtfulbiteoutofhisslice,whichhedidn’tseemtoenjoy.
Heturneditaboutinhismouthmuchlongerthanusual,ponderingoveritagooddeal,andafterallgulpeditdownlikeapill.
Hewasabouttotakeanotherbite,andhadjustgothisheadononesideforagoodpurchaseonit,whenhiseyefellonme,andhesawthatmybread—and—butterwasgone.
ThewonderandconsternationwithwhichJoestoppedonthethresholdofhisbiteandstaredatme,weretooevidenttoescapemysister’sobservation.
“What’sthematternow?”saidshe,smartly,assheputdownhercup.
“Isay,youknow!”mutteredJoe,shakinghisheadatmeinveryseriousremonstrance.“Pip,oldchap!You’lldoyourselfamischief.It’llsticksomewhere.Youcan’thavechawedit,Pip.”
“What’sthematternow?”repeatedmysister,moresharplythanbefore.
“Ifyoucancoughanytrifleonitup,Pip,I’drecommendyoutodoit,”saidJoe,allaghast.“Mannersismanners,butstillyourelth’syourelth.”
Bythistime,mysisterwasquitedesperate,soshepouncedonJoe,and,takinghimbythetwowhiskers,knockedhisheadforalittlewhileagainstthewallbehindhim:whileIsatinthecorner,lookingguiltilyon.
“Now,perhapsyou’llmentionwhat’sthematter,”saidmysister,outofbreath,“youstaringgreatstuckpig.”
Joelookedatherinahelplessway;thentookahelplessbite,andlookedatmeagain.
“Youknow,Pip,”saidJoe,solemnly,withhislastbiteinhischeekandspeakinginaconfidentialvoice,asifwetwowerequitealone,“youandmeisalwaysfriends,andI’dbethelasttotelluponyou,anytime.
Butsucha——”hemovedhischairandlookedaboutthefloorbetweenus,andthenagainatme—“suchamostoncommonBoltasthat!”
“Beenboltinghisfood,hashe?”criedmysister.
“Youknow,oldchap,”saidJoe,lookingatme,andnotatMrs.Joe,withhisbitestillinhischeek,“IBolted,myself,whenIwasyourage—frequent—andasaboyI’vebeenamongamanyBolters;butIneverseeyourBoltingequalyet,Pip,andit’samercyyouain’tBolteddead.”
Mysistermadeadiveatme,andfishedmeupbythehair:sayingnothingmorethantheawfulwords,“Youcomealongandbedosed.”
SomemedicalbeasthadrevivedTar—waterinthosedaysasafinemedicine,andMrs.Joealwayskeptasupplyofitinthecupboard;havingabeliefinitsvirtuescorrespondenttoitsnastiness.
Atthebestoftimes,somuchofthiselixirwasadministeredtomeasachoicerestorative,thatIwasconsciousofgoingabout,smellinglikeanewfence.
Onthisparticulareveningtheurgencyofmycasedemandedapintofthismixture,whichwaspoureddownmythroat,formygreatercomfort,whileMrs.Joeheldmyheadunderherarm,asabootwouldbeheldinaboot—jack.
Joegotoffwithhalfapint;butwasmadetoswallowthat(muchtohisdisturbance,ashesatslowlymunchingandmeditatingbeforethefire),“becausehehadhadaturn.”
Judgingfrommyself,Ishouldsayhecertainlyhadaturnafterwards,ifhehadhadnonebefore.
Conscienceisadreadfulthingwhenitaccusesmanorboy;butwhen,inthecaseofaboy,thatsecretburdenco—operateswithanothersecretburdendownthelegofhistrousers,itis(asIcantestify)agreatpunishment.
TheguiltyknowledgethatIwasgoingtorobMrs.Joe—IneverthoughtIwasgoingtorobJoe,forIneverthoughtofanyofthehousekeepingpropertyashis—unitedtothenecessityofalwayskeepingonehandonmybread—and—butterasIsat,orwhenIwasorderedaboutthekitchenonanysmallerrand,almostdrovemeoutofmymind.
Then,asthemarshwindsmadethefireglowandflare,IthoughtIheardthevoiceoutside,ofthemanwiththeirononhislegwhohadswornmetosecrecy,declaringthathecouldn’tandwouldn’tstarveuntilto—morrow,butmustbefednow.
Atothertimes,Ithought,Whatiftheyoungmanwhowaswithsomuchdifficultyrestrainedfromimbruinghishandsinme,shouldyieldtoaconstitutionalimpatience,orshouldmistakethetime,andshouldthinkhimselfaccreditedtomyheartandliverto—night,insteadofto—morrow!
Ifeveranybody’shairstoodonendwithterror,minemusthavedonesothen.But,perhaps,nobody’severdid?
ItwasChristmasEve,andIhadtostirthepuddingfornextday,withacopper—stick,fromseventoeightbytheDutchclock.
Itrieditwiththeloaduponmyleg(andthatmademethinkafreshofthemanwiththeloadonhisleg),andfoundthetendencyofexercisetobringthebread—and—butteroutatmyankle,quiteunmanageable.
Happily,Islippedaway,anddepositedthatpartofmyconscienceinmygarretbedroom.
“Hark!”saidI,whenIhaddonemystirring,andwastakingafinalwarminthechimneycornerbeforebeingsentuptobed;“wasthatgreatguns,Joe?”
“Ah!”saidJoe.“There’sanotherconwictoff.”
“Whatdoesthatmean,Joe?”saidI.
Mrs.Joe,whoalwaystookexplanationsuponherself,said,snappishly,“Escaped.Escaped.”AdministeringthedefinitionlikeTar—water.
WhileMrs.Joesatwithherheadbendingoverherneedlework,IputmymouthintotheformsofsayingtoJoe,“What’saconvict?”
Joeputhismouthintotheformsofreturningsuchahighlyelaborateanswer,thatIcouldmakeoutnothingofitbutthesingleword“Pip.”
“Therewasaconwictofflastnight,”saidJoe,aloud,“aftersun—set—gun.Andtheyfiredwarningofhim.Andnow,itappearsthey’refiringwarningofanother.”
“Who’sfiring?”saidI.
“Dratthatboy,”interposedmysister,frowningatmeoverherwork,“whataquestionerheis.Asknoquestions,andyou’llbetoldnolies.”
Itwasnotverypolitetoherself,Ithought,toimplythatIshouldbetoldliesbyher,evenifIdidaskquestions.Butsheneverwaspolite,unlesstherewascompany.
Atthispoint,Joegreatlyaugmentedmycuriositybytakingtheutmostpainstoopenhismouthverywide,andtoputitintotheformofawordthatlookedtomelike“sulks.”
Therefore,InaturallypointedtoMrs.Joe,andputmymouthintotheformofsaying“her?”
ButJoewouldn’thearofthat,atall,andagainopenedhismouthverywide,andshooktheformofamostemphaticwordoutofit.ButIcouldmakenothingoftheword.
“Mrs.Joe,”saidI,asalastresort,“Ishouldliketoknow—ifyouwouldn’tmuchmind—wherethefiringcomesfrom?”
“Lordblesstheboy!”exclaimedmysister,asifshedidn’tquitemeanthat,butratherthecontrary.“FromtheHulks!”
“Oh—h!”saidI,lookingatJoe.“Hulks!”
Joegaveareproachfulcough,asmuchastosay,“Well,Itoldyouso.”
“Andpleasewhat’sHulks?”saidI.
“That’sthewaywiththisboy!”exclaimedmysister,pointingmeoutwithherneedleandthread,andshakingherheadatme.
“Answerhimonequestion,andhe’llaskyouadozendirectly.
Hulksareprison—ships,right‘crossth’meshes.”
Wealwaysusedthatnameformarshes,inourcountry.
“Iwonderwho’sputintoprison—ships,andwhythey’reputthere?”saidI,inageneralway,andwithquietdesperation.
ItwastoomuchforMrs.Joe,whoimmediatelyrose.
“Itellyouwhat,youngfellow,”saidshe,“Ididn’tbringyouupbyhandtobadgerpeople’slivesout.
Itwouldbeblametome,andnotpraise,ifIhad.
PeopleareputintheHulksbecausetheymurder,andbecausetheyrob,andforge,anddoallsortsofbad;andtheyalwaysbeginbyaskingquestions.Now,yougetalongtobed!”
Iwasneverallowedacandletolightmetobed,and,asIwentupstairsinthedark,withmyheadtingling—fromMrs.Joe’sthimblehavingplayedthetambourineuponit,toaccompanyherlastwords—IfeltfearfullysensibleofthegreatconveniencethattheHulkswerehandyforme.Iwasclearlyonmywaythere.
Ihadbegunbyaskingquestions,andIwasgoingtorobMrs.Joe.
Sincethattime,whichisfarenoughawaynow,Ihaveoftenthoughtthatfewpeopleknowwhatsecrecythereisintheyoung,underterror.
Nomatterhowunreasonabletheterror,sothatitbeterror.
Iwasinmortalterroroftheyoungmanwhowantedmyheartandliver;Iwasinmortalterrorofmyinterlocutorwiththeironedleg;Iwasinmortalterrorofmyself,fromwhomanawfulpromisehadbeenextracted;Ihadnohopeofdeliverancethroughmyall—powerfulsister,whorepulsedmeateveryturn;IamafraidtothinkofwhatImighthavedone,onrequirement,inthesecrecyofmyterror.
IfIsleptatallthatnight,itwasonlytoimaginemyselfdriftingdowntheriveronastrongspring—tide,totheHulks;aghostlypiratecallingouttomethroughaspeaking—trumpet,asIpassedthegibbet—station,thatIhadbettercomeashoreandbehangedthereatonce,andnotputitoff.
Iwasafraidtosleep,evenifIhadbeeninclined,forIknewthatatthefirstfaintdawnofmorningImustrobthepantry.
Therewasnodoingitinthenight,fortherewasnogettingalightbyeasyfrictionthen;tohavegotone,Imusthavestruckitoutofflintandsteel,andhavemadeanoiseliketheverypiratehimselfrattlinghischains.
Assoonasthegreatblackvelvetpalloutsidemylittlewindowwasshotwithgrey,Igotupandwentdownstairs;everyboardupontheway,andeverycrackineveryboard,callingafterme,“Stopthief!”and“Getup,Mrs.Joe!”
Inthepantry,whichwasfarmoreabundantlysuppliedthanusual,owingtotheseason,Iwasverymuchalarmed,byaharehangingupbytheheels,whomIratherthoughtIcaught,whenmybackwashalfturned,winking.
Ihadnotimeforverification,notimeforselection,notimeforanything,forIhadnotimetospare.
Istolesomebread,somerindofcheese,abouthalfajarofmincemeat(whichItiedupinmypocket—handkerchiefwithmylastnight’sslice),somebrandyfromastonebottle(whichIdecantedintoaglassbottleIhadsecretlyusedformakingthatintoxicatingfluid,Spanish—liquorice—water,upinmyroom:dilutingthestonebottlefromajuginthekitchencupboard),ameatbonewithverylittleonit,andabeautifulroundcompactporkpie.
Iwasnearlygoingawaywithoutthepie,butIwastemptedtomountuponashelf,tolookwhatitwasthatwasputawaysocarefullyinacoveredearthenwaredishinacorner,andIfounditwasthepie,andItookit,inthehopethatitwasnotintendedforearlyuse,andwouldnotbemissedforsometime.
Therewasadoorinthekitchen,communicatingwiththeforge;Iunlockedandunboltedthatdoor,andgotafilefromamongJoe’stools.
Then,IputthefasteningsasIhadfoundthem,openedthedooratwhichIhadenteredwhenIranhomelastnight,shutit,andranforthemistymarshes.
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