English
Itwasatrialtomyfeelings,onthenextdaybutone,toseeJoearrayinghimselfinhisSundayclothestoaccompanymetoMissHavisham’s.
However,ashethoughthiscourt-suitnecessarytotheoccasion,itwasnotformetellhimthathelookedfarbetterinhisworkingdress;therather,becauseIknewhemadehimselfsodreadfullyuncomfortable,entirelyonmyaccount,andthatitwasformehepulleduphisshirt-collarsoveryhighbehind,thatitmadethehaironthecrownofhisheadstanduplikeatuftoffeathers.
Atbreakfasttimemysisterdeclaredherintentionofgoingtotownwithus,andbeingleftatUnclePumblechook’sandcalledfor“whenwehaddonewithourfineladies”—awayofputtingthecase,fromwhichJoeappearedinclinedtoaugurtheworst.
Theforgewasshutupfortheday,andJoeinscribedinchalkuponthedoor(asitwashiscustomtodoontheveryrareoccasionswhenhewasnotatwork)themonosyllableHOUT,accompaniedbyasketchofanarrowsupposedtobeflyinginthedirectionhehadtaken.
Wewalkedtotown,mysisterleadingthewayinaverylargebeaverbonnet,andcarryingabasketliketheGreatSealofEnglandinplaitedstraw,apairofpattens,aspareshawl,andanumbrella,thoughitwasafinebrightday.
Iamnotquiteclearwhetherthesearticleswerecarriedpenitentiallyorostentatiously;but,Iratherthinktheyweredisplayedasarticlesofproperty—muchasCleopatraoranyothersovereignladyontheRampagemightexhibitherwealthinapageantorprocession.
WhenwecametoPumblechook’s,mysisterbouncedinandleftus.
Asitwasalmostnoon,JoeandIheldstraightontoMissHavisham’shouse.
Estellaopenedthegateasusual,and,themomentsheappeared,Joetookhishatoffandstoodweighingitbythebriminbothhishands:asifhehadsomeurgentreasoninhismindforbeingparticulartohalfaquarterofanounce.
Estellatooknonoticeofeitherofus,butledusthewaythatIknewsowell.
Ifollowednexttoher,andJoecamelast.
WhenIlookedbackatJoeinthelongpassage,hewasstillweighinghishatwiththegreatestcare,andwascomingafterusinlongstridesonthetipsofhistoes.
Estellatoldmewewerebothtogoin,soItookJoebythecoat-cuffandconductedhimintoMissHavisham’spresence.Shewasseatedatherdressing-table,andlookedroundatusimmediately.
“Oh!”saidshetoJoe.“Youarethehusbandofthesisterofthisboy?”
IcouldhardlyhaveimagineddearoldJoelookingsounlikehimselforsolikesomeextraordinarybird;standing,ashedid,speechless,withhistuftoffeathersruffled,andhismouthopen,asifhewantedaworm.
“Youarethehusband,”repeatedMissHavisham,“ofthesisterofthisboy?”
Itwasveryaggravating;but,throughouttheinterviewJoepersistedinaddressingMeinsteadofMissHavisham.
“WhichImeantersay,Pip,”Joenowobservedinamannerthatwasatonceexpressiveofforcibleargumentation,strictconfidence,andgreatpoliteness,“asIhupandmarriedyoursister,andIwereatthetimewhatyoumightcall(ifyouwasanywaysinclined)asingleman.”
“Well!”saidMissHavisham.“Andyouhaverearedtheboy,withtheintentionoftakinghimforyourapprentice;isthatso,Mr.Gargery?”
“Youknow,Pip,”repliedJoe,“asyouandmewereeverfriends,anditwerelookedfor’ardtobetwixtus,asbeingcalc’latedtoleadtolarks.
Notbutwhat,Pip,ifyouhadevermadeobjectionstothebusiness—suchasitsbeingopentoblackandsut,orsuch-like—notbutwhattheywouldhavebeenattendedto,don’tyousee?”
“Hastheboy,”saidMissHavisham,“evermadeanyobjection?Doeshelikethetrade?”
“Whichitiswellbeknowntoyourself,Pip,”returnedJoe,strengtheninghisformermixtureofargumentation,confidence,andpoliteness,“thatitwerethewishofyourownhart.”
(Isawtheideasuddenlybreakuponhimthathewouldadapthisepitaphtotheoccasion,beforehewentontosay)“Andthereweren’tnoobjectiononyourpart,andPipitwerethegreatwishofyourheart!”
ItwasquiteinvainformetoendeavourtomakehimsensiblethatheoughttospeaktoMissHavisham.
ThemoreImadefacesandgesturestohimtodoit,themoreconfidential,argumentative,andpolite,hepersistedinbeingtoMe.
“Haveyoubroughthisindentureswithyou?”askedMissHavisham.
“Well,Pip,youknow,”repliedJoe,asifthatwerealittleunreasonable,“youyourselfseemeput‘eminmy‘at,andthereforeyouknowastheyarehere.”
Withwhichhetookthemout,andgavethem,nottoMissHavisham,buttome.
IamafraidIwasashamedofthedeargoodfellow—IknowIwasashamedofhim—whenIsawthatEstellastoodatthebackofMissHavisham’schair,andthathereyeslaughedmischievously.
ItooktheindenturesoutofhishandandgavethemtoMissHavisham.
“Youexpected,”saidMissHavisham,asshelookedthemover,“nopremiumwiththeboy?”
“Joe!”Iremonstrated;forhemadenoreplyatall.“Whydon’tyouanswer—”
“Pip,”returnedJoe,cuttingmeshortasifhewerehurt,“whichImeantersaythatwerenotaquestionrequiringaanswerbetwixtyourselfandme,andwhichyouknowtheanswertobefullwellNo.
YouknowittobeNo,Pip,andwhereforeshouldIsayit?”
MissHavishamglancedathimasifsheunderstoodwhathereallywas,betterthanIhadthoughtpossible,seeingwhathewasthere;andtookupalittlebagfromthetablebesideher.
“Piphasearnedapremiumhere,”shesaid,“andhereitis.Therearefive-and-twentyguineasinthisbag.Giveittoyourmaster,Pip.”
Asifhewereabsolutelyoutofhismindwiththewonderawakenedinhimbyherstrangefigureandthestrangeroom,Joe,evenatthispass,persistedinaddressingme.
“Thisisweryliberalonyourpart,Pip,”saidJoe,“anditisassuchreceivedandgratefulwelcome,thoughneverlookedfor,farnornearnornowheres.
Andnow,oldchap,”saidJoe,conveyingtomeasensation,firstofburningandthenoffreezing,forIfeltasifthatfamiliarexpressionwereappliedtoMissHavisham;“andnow,oldchap,maywedoourduty!
Mayyouandmedoourduty,bothonusbyoneandanother,andbythemwhichyourliberalpresent—have—conweyed—tobe—forthesatisfactionofmind—of—themasnever—”hereJoeshowedthathefelthehadfallenintofrightfuldifficulties,untilhetriumphantlyrescuedhimselfwiththewords,“andfrommyselffarbeit!”
Thesewordshadsucharoundandconvincingsoundforhimthathesaidthemtwice.
“Good-bye,Pip!”saidMissHavisham.“Letthemout,Estella.”
“AmItocomeagain,MissHavisham?”Iasked.
“No.Gargeryisyourmasternow.Gargery!Oneword!”
ThuscallinghimbackasIwentoutofthedoor,IheardhersaytoJoe,inadistinctemphaticvoice,“Theboyhasbeenagoodboyhere,andthatishisreward.
Ofcourse,asanhonestman,youwillexpectnootherandnomore.”
HowJoegotoutoftheroom,Ihaveneverbeenabletodetermine;but,Iknowthatwhenhedidgetouthewassteadilyproceedingup-stairsinsteadofcomingdown,andwasdeaftoallremonstrancesuntilIwentafterhimandlaidholdofhim.
Inanotherminutewewereoutsidethegate,anditwaslocked,andEstellawasgone.
Whenwestoodinthedaylightaloneagain,Joebackedupagainstawall,andsaidtome,“Astonishing!”
Andthereheremainedsolong,saying“Astonishing”atintervals,sooften,thatIbegantothinkhissenseswerenevercomingback.
Atlengthheprolongedhisremarkinto“Pip,Idoassureyouthisisas-TONishing!”
andso,bydegrees,becameconversationalandabletowalkaway.
IhavereasontothinkthatJoe’sintellectswerebrightenedbytheencountertheyhadpassedthrough,andthatonourwaytoPumblechook’sheinventedasubtleanddeepdesign.
MyreasonistobefoundinwhattookplaceinMr.Pumblechook’sparlour:where,onourpresentingourselves,mysistersatinconferencewiththatdetestedseedsman.
“Well?”criedmysister,addressingusbothatonce.“Andwhat’shappenedtoyou?Iwonderyoucondescendtocomebacktosuchpoorsocietyasthis,IamsureIdo!”
“MissHavisham,”saidJoe,withafixedlookatme,likeaneffortofremembrance,“madeitwerypartick’lerthatweshouldgiveher—wereitcomplimentsorrespects,Pip?”
“Compliments,”Isaid.
“Whichthatweremyownbelief,”answeredJoe—”hercomplimentstoMrs.J.Gargery—”
“Muchgoodthey’lldome!”observedmysister;butrathergratifiedtoo.
“Andwishing,”pursuedJoe,withanotherfixedlookatme,likeanothereffortofremembrance,“thatthestateofMissHavisham’selthweresitchaswouldhave—allowed,wereit,Pip?”
“Ofherhavingthepleasure,”Iadded.
“Ofladies’company,”saidJoe.Anddrewalongbreath.
“Well!”criedmysister,withamollifiedglanceatMr.Pumblechook.
“Shemighthavehadthepolitenesstosendthatmessageatfirst,butit’sbetterlatethannever.
AndwhatdidshegiveyoungRantipolehere?”
“Shegiv’him,”saidJoe,“nothing.”
Mrs.Joewasgoingtobreakout,butJoewenton.
“Whatshegiv’,”saidJoe,“shegiv’tohisfriends.
‘Andbyhisfriends,’wereherexplanation,‘ImeanintothehandsofhissisterMrs.J.Gargery.’Themwereherwords;‘Mrs.J.Gargery.’
Shemayn’thaveknow’d,”addedJoe,withanappearanceofreflection,“whetheritwereJoe,orJorge.”
MysisterlookedatPumblechook:whosmoothedtheelbowsofhiswoodenarmchair,andnoddedatherandatthefire,asifhehadknownallaboutitbeforehand.
“Andhowmuchhaveyougot?”askedmysister,laughing.Positively,laughing!
“Whatwouldpresentcompanysaytotenpound?”demandedJoe.
“They’dsay,”returnedmysister,curtly,“prettywell.Nottoomuch,butprettywell.”
“It’smorethanthat,then,”saidJoe.
ThatfearfulImpostor,Pumblechook,immediatelynodded,andsaid,asherubbedthearmsofhischair:“It’smorethanthat,Mum.”
“Why,youdon’tmeantosay—”beganmysister.
“YesIdo,Mum,”saidPumblechook;“butwaitabit.Goon,Joseph.Goodinyou!Goon!”
“Whatwouldpresentcompanysay,”proceededJoe,“totwentypound?”
“Handsomewouldbetheword,”returnedmysister.
“Well,then,”saidJoe,“It’smorethantwentypound.”
Thatabjecthypocrite,Pumblechook,noddedagain,andsaid,withapatronizinglaugh,“It’smorethanthat,Mum.Goodagain!Followherup,Joseph!”
“Thentomakeanendofit,”saidJoe,delightedlyhandingthebagtomysister;“it’sfive-and-twentypound.”
“It’sfive-and-twentypound,Mum,”echoedthatbasestofswindlers,Pumblechook,risingtoshakehandswithher;“andit’snomorethanyourmerits(asIsaidwhenmyopinionwasasked),andIwishyoujoyofthemoney!”
Ifthevillainhadstoppedhere,hiscasewouldhavebeensufficientlyawful,butheblackenedhisguiltbyproceedingtotakemeintocustody,witharightofpatronagethatleftallhisformercriminalityfarbehind.
“Nowyousee,Josephandwife,”saidPumblechook,ashetookmebythearmabovetheelbow,“Iamoneofthemthatalwaysgorightthroughwithwhatthey’vebegun.Thisboymustbebound,outofhand.That’smyway.Boundoutofhand.”
“Goodnessknows,UnclePumblechook,”saidmysister(graspingthemoney),“we’redeeplybeholdentoyou.”
“Nevermindme,Mum,returnedthatdiabolicalcorn-chandler.“Apleasure’sapleasure,alltheworldover.Butthisboy,youknow;wemusthavehimbound.IsaidI’dseetoit—totellyouthetruth.”
TheJusticesweresittingintheTownHallnearathand,andweatoncewentovertohavemeboundapprenticetoJoeintheMagisterialpresence.
Isay,wewentover,butIwaspushedoverbyPumblechook,exactlyasifIhadthatmomentpickedapocketorfiredarick;indeed,itwasthegeneralimpressioninCourtthatIhadbeentakenred-handed,for,asPumblechookshovedmebeforehimthroughthecrowd,Iheardsomepeoplesay,“What’shedone?”
andothers,“He’sayoung‘un,too,butlooksbad,don’the?
Onepersonofmildandbenevolentaspectevengavemeatractornamentedwithawoodcutofamalevolentyoungmanfittedupwithaperfectsausage-shopoffetters,andentitled,TOBEREADINMYCELL.
TheHallwasaqueerplace,Ithought,withhigherpewsinitthanachurch—andwithpeoplehangingoverthepewslookingon—andwithmightyJustices(onewithapowderedhead)leaningbackinchairs,withfoldedarms,ortakingsnuff,orgoingtosleep,orwriting,orreadingthenewspapers—andwithsomeshiningblackportraitsonthewalls,whichmyunartisticeyeregardedasacompositionofhardbakeandsticking-plaister.
Here,inacorner,myindenturesweredulysignedandattested,andIwas“bound;”Mr.Pumblechookholdingmeallthewhileasifwehadlookedinonourwaytothescaffold,tohavethoselittlepreliminariesdisposedof.
Whenwehadcomeoutagain,andhadgotridoftheboyswhohadbeenputintogreatspiritsbytheexpectationofseeingmepubliclytortured,andwhoweremuchdisappointedtofindthatmyfriendsweremerelyrallyingroundme,wewentbacktoPumblechook’s.
Andtheremysisterbecamesoexcitedbythetwenty-fiveguineas,thatnothingwouldserveherbutwemusthaveadinneroutofthatwindfall,attheBlueBoar,andthatPumblechookmustgooverinhischaise-cart,andbringtheHubblesandMr.Wopsle.
Itwasagreedtobedone;andamostmelancholydayIpassed.
For,itinscrutablyappearedtostandtoreason,inthemindsofthewholecompany,thatIwasanexcrescenceontheentertainment.
Andtomakeitworse,theyallaskedmefromtimetotime—inshort,whenevertheyhadnothingelsetodo—whyIdidn’tenjoymyself.
AndwhatcouldIpossiblydothen,butsayIwasenjoyingmyself—whenIwasn’t?
However,theyweregrownupandhadtheirownway,andtheymadethemostofit.
ThatswindlingPumblechook,exaltedintothebeneficentcontriverofthewholeoccasion,actuallytookthetopofthetable;and,whenheaddressedthemonthesubjectofmybeingbound,andhadfiendishlycongratulatedthemonmybeingliabletoimprisonmentifIplayedatcards,drankstrongliquors,keptlatehoursorbadcompany,orindulgedinothervagarieswhichtheformofmyindenturesappearedtocontemplateasnexttoinevitable,heplacedmestandingonachairbesidehim,toillustratehisremarks.
Myonlyotherremembrancesofthegreatfestivalare,Thattheywouldn’tletmegotosleep,butwhenevertheysawmedroppingoff,wokemeupandtoldmetoenjoymyself.
That,ratherlateintheeveningMr.WopslegaveusCollins’sode,andthrewhisbloodstain’dswordinthunderdown,withsucheffect,thatawaitercameinandsaid,“TheCommercialsunderneathsentuptheircompliments,anditwasn’ttheTumblers’Arms.”
That,theywereallinexcellentspiritsontheroadhome,andsangOLadyFair!
Mr.Wopsletakingthebass,andassertingwithatremendouslystrongvoice(inreplytotheinquisitiveborewholeadsthatpieceofmusicinamostimpertinentmanner,bywantingtoknowallabouteverybody’sprivateaffairs)thathewasthemanwithhiswhitelocksflowing,andthathewasuponthewholetheweakestpilgrimgoing.
Finally,IrememberthatwhenIgotintomylittlebedroomIwastrulywretched,andhadastrongconvictiononmethatIshouldneverlikeJoe’strade.Ihadlikeditonce,butoncewasnotnow.
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