GREAT EXPECTATIONS
PART 18
Chapter XXXVI
Herbert and I went on from bad to worse, in the way
of increasing our debts, looking into our affairs, leaving Margins, and the
like exemplary transactions; and Time went on, whether or no, as he has a way
of doing; and I came of age,—in fulfilment of Herbert's prediction, that I
should do so before I knew where I was.
Herbert himself had come of age eight months before
me. As he had nothing else than his majority to come into, the event did not
make a profound sensation in Barnard's Inn. But we had looked forward to my
one-and-twentieth birthday, with a crowd of speculations and anticipations, for
we had both considered that my guardian could hardly help saying something
definite on that occasion.
I had taken care to have it well understood in
Little Britain when my birthday was. On the day before it, I received an
official note from Wemmick, informing me that Mr. Jaggers would be glad if I
would call upon him at five in the afternoon of the auspicious day. This
convinced us that something great was to happen, and threw me into an unusual
flutter when I repaired to my guardian's office, a model of punctuality.
In the outer office Wemmick offered me his
congratulations, and incidentally rubbed the side of his nose with a folded
piece of tissue-paper that I liked the look of. But he said nothing respecting
it, and motioned me with a nod into my guardian's room. It was November, and my
guardian was standing before his fire leaning his back against the
chimney-piece, with his hands under his coattails.
"Well, Pip," said he, "I must call
you Mr. Pip to-day. Congratulations, Mr. Pip."
We shook hands,—he was always a remarkably short
shaker,—and I thanked him.
"Take a chair, Mr. Pip," said my guardian.
As I sat down, and he preserved his attitude and
bent his brows at his boots, I felt at a disadvantage, which reminded me of
that old time when I had been put upon a tombstone. The two ghastly casts on
the shelf were not far from him, and their expression was as if they were
making a stupid apoplectic attempt to attend to the conversation.
"Now my young friend," my guardian began,
as if I were a witness in the box, "I am going to have a word or two with
you."
"If you please, sir."
"What do you suppose," said Mr. Jaggers,
bending forward to look at the ground, and then throwing his head back to look
at the ceiling,—"what do you suppose you are living at the rate of?"
"At the rate of, sir?"
"At," repeated Mr. Jaggers, still looking
at the ceiling, "the—rate—of?" And then looked all round the room,
and paused with his pocket-handkerchief in his hand, half-way to his nose.
I had looked into my affairs so often, that I had
thoroughly destroyed any slight notion I might ever have had of their bearings.
Reluctantly, I confessed myself quite unable to answer the question. This reply
seemed agreeable to Mr. Jaggers, who said, "I thought so!" and blew
his nose with an air of satisfaction.
"Now, I have asked you a question, my
friend," said Mr. Jaggers. "Have you anything to ask me?"
"Of course it would be a great relief to me to
ask you several questions, sir; but I remember your prohibition."
"Ask one," said Mr. Jaggers.
"Is my benefactor to be made known to me
to-day?"
"No. Ask another."
"Is that confidence to be imparted to me
soon?"
"Waive that, a moment," said Mr. Jaggers,
"and ask another."
I looked about me, but there appeared to be now no
possible escape from the inquiry, "Have-I—anything to receive, sir?"
On that, Mr. Jaggers said, triumphantly, "I thought we should come to
it!" and called to Wemmick to give him that piece of paper. Wemmick
appeared, handed it in, and disappeared.
"Now, Mr. Pip," said Mr. Jaggers,
"attend, if you please. You have been drawing pretty freely here; your
name occurs pretty often in Wemmick's cash-book; but you are in debt, of
course?"
"I am afraid I must say yes, sir."
"You know you must say yes; don't you?"
said Mr. Jaggers.
"Yes, sir."
"I don't ask you what you owe, because you
don't know; and if you did know, you wouldn't tell me; you would say less. Yes,
yes, my friend," cried Mr. Jaggers, waving his forefinger to stop me as I
made a show of protesting: "it's likely enough that you think you
wouldn't, but you would. You'll excuse me, but I know better than you. Now,
take this piece of paper in your hand. You have got it? Very good. Now, unfold
it and tell me what it is."
"This is a bank-note," said I, "for
five hundred pounds."
"That is a bank-note," repeated Mr.
Jaggers, "for five hundred pounds. And a very handsome sum of money too, I
think. You consider it so?"
"How could I do otherwise!"
"Ah! But answer the question," said Mr.
Jaggers.
"Undoubtedly."
"You consider it, undoubtedly, a handsome sum
of money. Now, that handsome sum of money, Pip, is your own. It is a present to
you on this day, in earnest of your expectations. And at the rate of that
handsome sum of money per annum, and at no higher rate, you are to live until
the donor of the whole appears. That is to say, you will now take your money
affairs entirely into your own hands, and you will draw from Wemmick one
hundred and twenty-five pounds per quarter, until you are in communication with
the fountain-head, and no longer with the mere agent. As I have told you
before, I am the mere agent. I execute my instructions, and I am paid for doing
so. I think them injudicious, but I am not paid for giving any opinion on their
merits."
I was beginning to express my gratitude to my
benefactor for the great liberality with which I was treated, when Mr. Jaggers
stopped me. "I am not paid, Pip," said he, coolly, "to carry
your words to any one;" and then gathered up his coat-tails, as he had
gathered up the subject, and stood frowning at his boots as if he suspected
them of designs against him.
After a pause, I hinted,—
"There was a question just now, Mr. Jaggers,
which you desired me to waive for a moment. I hope I am doing nothing wrong in
asking it again?"
"What is it?" said he.
I might have known that he would never help me out;
but it took me aback to have to shape the question afresh, as if it were quite
new. "Is it likely," I said, after hesitating, "that my patron,
the fountain-head you have spoken of, Mr. Jaggers, will soon—" there I
delicately stopped.
"Will soon what?" asked Mr. Jaggers.
"That's no question as it stands, you know."
"Will soon come to London," said I, after
casting about for a precise form of words, "or summon me anywhere
else?"
"Now, here," replied Mr. Jaggers, fixing
me for the first time with his dark deep-set eyes, "we must revert to the
evening when we first encountered one another in your village. What did I tell
you then, Pip?"
"You told me, Mr. Jaggers, that it might be
years hence when that person appeared."
"Just so," said Mr. Jaggers, "that's
my answer."
As we looked full at one another, I felt my breath
come quicker in my strong desire to get something out of him. And as I felt
that it came quicker, and as I felt that he saw that it came quicker, I felt
that I had less chance than ever of getting anything out of him.
"Do you suppose it will still be years hence,
Mr. Jaggers?"
Mr. Jaggers shook his head,—not in negativing the
question, but in altogether negativing the notion that he could anyhow be got
to answer it,—and the two horrible casts of the twitched faces looked, when my
eyes strayed up to them, as if they had come to a crisis in their suspended
attention, and were going to sneeze.
"Come!" said Mr. Jaggers, warming the
backs of his legs with the backs of his warmed hands, "I'll be plain with
you, my friend Pip. That's a question I must not be asked. You'll understand
that better, when I tell you it's a question that might compromise me. Come!
I'll go a little further with you; I'll say something more."
He bent down so low to frown at his boots, that he
was able to rub the calves of his legs in the pause he made.
"When that person discloses," said Mr.
Jaggers, straightening himself, "you and that person will settle your own
affairs. When that person discloses, my part in this business will cease and
determine. When that person discloses, it will not be necessary for me to know
anything about it. And that's all I have got to say."
We looked at one another until I withdrew my eyes,
and looked thoughtfully at the floor. From this last speech I derived the
notion that Miss Havisham, for some reason or no reason, had not taken him into
her confidence as to her designing me for Estella; that he resented this, and felt
a jealousy about it; or that he really did object to that scheme, and would
have nothing to do with it. When I raised my eyes again, I found that he had
been shrewdly looking at me all the time, and was doing so still.
"If that is all you have to say, sir," I
remarked, "there can be nothing left for me to say."
He nodded assent, and pulled out his thief-dreaded
watch, and asked me where I was going to dine? I replied at my own chambers,
with Herbert. As a necessary sequence, I asked him if he would favor us with
his company, and he promptly accepted the invitation. But he insisted on
walking home with me, in order that I might make no extra preparation for him,
and first he had a letter or two to write, and (of course) had his hands to
wash. So I said I would go into the outer office and talk to Wemmick.
The fact was, that when the five hundred pounds had
come into my pocket, a thought had come into my head which had been often there
before; and it appeared to me that Wemmick was a good person to advise with
concerning such thought.
He had already locked up his safe, and made
preparations for going home. He had left his desk, brought out his two greasy
office candlesticks and stood them in line with the snuffers on a slab near the
door, ready to be extinguished; he had raked his fire low, put his hat and
great-coat ready, and was beating himself all over the chest with his safe-key,
as an athletic exercise after business.
"Mr. Wemmick," said I, "I want to
ask your opinion. I am very desirous to serve a friend."
Wemmick tightened his post-office and shook his
head, as if his opinion were dead against any fatal weakness of that sort.
"This friend," I pursued, "is trying
to get on in commercial life, but has no money, and finds it difficult and
disheartening to make a beginning. Now I want somehow to help him to a
beginning."
"With money down?" said Wemmick, in a
tone drier than any sawdust.
"With some money down," I replied, for an
uneasy remembrance shot across me of that symmetrical bundle of papers at
home—"with some money down, and perhaps some anticipation of my
expectations."
"Mr. Pip," said Wemmick, "I should
like just to run over with you on my fingers, if you please, the names of the
various bridges up as high as Chelsea Reach. Let's see; there's London, one;
Southwark, two; Blackfriars, three; Waterloo, four; Westminster, five;
Vauxhall, six." He had checked off each bridge in its turn, with the
handle of his safe-key on the palm of his hand. "There's as many as six,
you see, to choose from."
"I don't understand you," said I.
"Choose your bridge, Mr. Pip," returned
Wemmick, "and take a walk upon your bridge, and pitch your money into the
Thames over the centre arch of your bridge, and you know the end of it. Serve a
friend with it, and you may know the end of it too,—but it's a less pleasant
and profitable end."
I could have posted a newspaper in his mouth, he
made it so wide after saying this.
"This is very discouraging," said I.
"Meant to be so," said Wemmick.
"Then is it your opinion," I inquired,
with some little indignation, "that a man should never—"
"—Invest portable property in a friend?"
said Wemmick. "Certainly he should not. Unless he wants to get rid of the
friend,—and then it becomes a question how much portable property it may be
worth to get rid of him."
"And that," said I, "is your
deliberate opinion, Mr. Wemmick?"
"That," he returned, "is my
deliberate opinion in this office."
"Ah!" said I, pressing him, for I thought
I saw him near a loophole here; "but would that be your opinion at
Walworth?"
"Mr. Pip," he replied, with gravity,
"Walworth is one place, and this office is another. Much as the Aged is
one person, and Mr. Jaggers is another. They must not be confounded together.
My Walworth sentiments must be taken at Walworth; none but my official
sentiments can be taken in this office."
"Very well," said I, much relieved,
"then I shall look you up at Walworth, you may depend upon it."
"Mr. Pip," he returned, "you will be
welcome there, in a private and personal capacity."
We had held this conversation in a low voice, well
knowing my guardian's ears to be the sharpest of the sharp. As he now appeared
in his doorway, towelling his hands, Wemmick got on his great-coat and stood by
to snuff out the candles. We all three went into the street together, and from
the door-step Wemmick turned his way, and Mr. Jaggers and I turned ours.
I could not help wishing more than once that
evening, that Mr. Jaggers had had an Aged in Gerrard Street, or a Stinger, or a
Something, or a Somebody, to unbend his brows a little. It was an uncomfortable
consideration on a twenty-first birthday, that coming of age at all seemed
hardly worth while in such a guarded and suspicious world as he made of it. He
was a thousand times better informed and cleverer than Wemmick, and yet I would
a thousand times rather have had Wemmick to dinner. And Mr. Jaggers made not me
alone intensely melancholy, because, after he was gone, Herbert said of
himself, with his eyes fixed on the fire, that he thought he must have
committed a felony and forgotten the details of it, he felt so dejected and
guilty.
Chapter XXXVII
Deeming Sunday the best day for taking Mr.
Wemmick's Walworth sentiments, I devoted the next ensuing Sunday afternoon to a
pilgrimage to the Castle. On arriving before the battlements, I found the Union
Jack flying and the drawbridge up; but undeterred by this show of defiance and
resistance, I rang at the gate, and was admitted in a most pacific manner by
the Aged.
"My son, sir," said the old man, after
securing the drawbridge, "rather had it in his mind that you might happen
to drop in, and he left word that he would soon be home from his afternoon's
walk. He is very regular in his walks, is my son. Very regular in everything,
is my son."
I nodded at the old gentleman as Wemmick himself
might have nodded, and we went in and sat down by the fireside.
"You made acquaintance with my son, sir,"
said the old man, in his chirping way, while he warmed his hands at the blaze,
"at his office, I expect?" I nodded. "Hah! I have heerd that my
son is a wonderful hand at his business, sir?" I nodded hard. "Yes;
so they tell me. His business is the Law?" I nodded harder. "Which
makes it more surprising in my son," said the old man, "for he was
not brought up to the Law, but to the Wine-Coopering."
Curious to know how the old gentleman stood
informed concerning the reputation of Mr. Jaggers, I roared that name at him.
He threw me into the greatest confusion by laughing heartily and replying in a
very sprightly manner, "No, to be sure; you're right." And to this
hour I have not the faintest notion what he meant, or what joke he thought I
had made.
As I could not sit there nodding at him
perpetually, without making some other attempt to interest him, I shouted at
inquiry whether his own calling in life had been "the
Wine-Coopering." By dint of straining that term out of myself several
times and tapping the old gentleman on the chest to associate it with him, I at
last succeeded in making my meaning understood.
"No," said the old gentleman; "the
warehousing, the warehousing. First, over yonder;" he appeared to mean up
the chimney, but I believe he intended to refer me to Liverpool; "and then
in the City of London here. However, having an infirmity—for I am hard of
hearing, sir—"
I expressed in pantomime the greatest astonishment.
"—Yes, hard of hearing; having that infirmity
coming upon me, my son he went into the Law, and he took charge of me, and he
by little and little made out this elegant and beautiful property. But
returning to what you said, you know," pursued the old man, again laughing
heartily, "what I say is, No to be sure; you're right."
I was modestly wondering whether my utmost
ingenuity would have enabled me to say anything that would have amused him half
as much as this imaginary pleasantry, when I was startled by a sudden click in
the wall on one side of the chimney, and the ghostly tumbling open of a little
wooden flap with "JOHN" upon it. The old man, following my eyes,
cried with great triumph, "My son's come home!" and we both went out
to the drawbridge.
It was worth any money to see Wemmick waving a
salute to me from the other side of the moat, when we might have shaken hands
across it with the greatest ease. The Aged was so delighted to work the
drawbridge, that I made no offer to assist him, but stood quiet until Wemmick
had come across, and had presented me to Miss Skiffins; a lady by whom he was
accompanied.
Miss Skiffins was of a wooden appearance, and was,
like her escort, in the post-office branch of the service. She might have been
some two or three years younger than Wemmick, and I judged her to stand
possessed of portable property. The cut of her dress from the waist upward,
both before and behind, made her figure very like a boy's kite; and I might
have pronounced her gown a little too decidedly orange, and her gloves a little
too intensely green. But she seemed to be a good sort of fellow, and showed a
high regard for the Aged. I was not long in discovering that she was a frequent
visitor at the Castle; for, on our going in, and my complimenting Wemmick on
his ingenious contrivance for announcing himself to the Aged, he begged me to
give my attention for a moment to the other side of the chimney, and
disappeared. Presently another click came, and another little door tumbled open
with "Miss Skiffins" on it; then Miss Skiffins shut up and John
tumbled open; then Miss Skiffins and John both tumbled open together, and
finally shut up together. On Wemmick's return from working these mechanical
appliances, I expressed the great admiration with which I regarded them, and he
said, "Well, you know, they're both pleasant and useful to the Aged. And by
George, sir, it's a thing worth mentioning, that of all the people who come to
this gate, the secret of those pulls is only known to the Aged, Miss Skiffins,
and me!"
"And Mr. Wemmick made them," added Miss
Skiffins, "with his own hands out of his own head."
While Miss Skiffins was taking off her bonnet (she
retained her green gloves during the evening as an outward and visible sign
that there was company), Wemmick invited me to take a walk with him round the
property, and see how the island looked in wintertime. Thinking that he did
this to give me an opportunity of taking his Walworth sentiments, I seized the
opportunity as soon as we were out of the Castle.
Having thought of the matter with care, I
approached my subject as if I had never hinted at it before. I informed Wemmick
that I was anxious in behalf of Herbert Pocket, and I told him how we had first
met, and how we had fought. I glanced at Herbert's home, and at his character,
and at his having no means but such as he was dependent on his father for; those,
uncertain and unpunctual. I alluded to the advantages I had derived in my first
rawness and ignorance from his society, and I confessed that I feared I had but
ill repaid them, and that he might have done better without me and my
expectations. Keeping Miss Havisham in the background at a great distance, I
still hinted at the possibility of my having competed with him in his
prospects, and at the certainty of his possessing a generous soul, and being
far above any mean distrusts, retaliations, or designs. For all these reasons
(I told Wemmick), and because he was my young companion and friend, and I had a
great affection for him, I wished my own good fortune to reflect some rays upon
him, and therefore I sought advice from Wemmick's experience and knowledge of
men and affairs, how I could best try with my resources to help Herbert to some
present income,—say of a hundred a year, to keep him in good hope and
heart,—and gradually to buy him on to some small partnership. I begged Wemmick,
in conclusion, to understand that my help must always be rendered without
Herbert's knowledge or suspicion, and that there was no one else in the world
with whom I could advise. I wound up by laying my hand upon his shoulder, and
saying, "I can't help confiding in you, though I know it must be
troublesome to you; but that is your fault, in having ever brought me
here."
Wemmick was silent for a little while, and then
said with a kind of start, "Well you know, Mr. Pip, I must tell you one
thing. This is devilish good of you."
"Say you'll help me to be good then,"
said I.
"Ecod," replied Wemmick, shaking his
head, "that's not my trade."
"Nor is this your trading-place," said I.
"You are right," he returned. "You
hit the nail on the head. Mr. Pip, I'll put on my considering-cap, and I think
all you want to do may be done by degrees. Skiffins (that's her brother) is an
accountant and agent. I'll look him up and go to work for you."
"I thank you ten thousand times."
"On the contrary," said he, "I thank
you, for though we are strictly in our private and personal capacity, still it
may be mentioned that there are Newgate cobwebs about, and it brushes them
away."
After a little further conversation to the same
effect, we returned into the Castle where we found Miss Skiffins preparing tea.
The responsible duty of making the toast was delegated to the Aged, and that
excellent old gentleman was so intent upon it that he seemed to me in some
danger of melting his eyes. It was no nominal meal that we were going to make,
but a vigorous reality. The Aged prepared such a hay-stack of buttered toast,
that I could scarcely see him over it as it simmered on an iron stand hooked on
to the top-bar; while Miss Skiffins brewed such a jorum of tea, that the pig in
the back premises became strongly excited, and repeatedly expressed his desire
to participate in the entertainment.
The flag had been struck, and the gun had been
fired, at the right moment of time, and I felt as snugly cut off from the rest
of Walworth as if the moat were thirty feet wide by as many deep. Nothing
disturbed the tranquillity of the Castle, but the occasional tumbling open of
John and Miss Skiffins: which little doors were a prey to some spasmodic
infirmity that made me sympathetically uncomfortable until I got used to it. I
inferred from the methodical nature of Miss Skiffins's arrangements that she
made tea there every Sunday night; and I rather suspected that a classic brooch
she wore, representing the profile of an undesirable female with a very
straight nose and a very new moon, was a piece of portable property that had
been given her by Wemmick.
We ate the whole of the toast, and drank tea in
proportion, and it was delightful to see how warm and greasy we all got after
it. The Aged especially, might have passed for some clean old chief of a savage
tribe, just oiled. After a short pause of repose, Miss Skiffins—in the absence
of the little servant who, it seemed, retired to the bosom of her family on
Sunday afternoons—washed up the tea-things, in a trifling lady-like amateur
manner that compromised none of us. Then, she put on her gloves again, and we
drew round the fire, and Wemmick said, "Now, Aged Parent, tip us the
paper."
Wemmick explained to me while the Aged got his
spectacles out, that this was according to custom, and that it gave the old
gentleman infinite satisfaction to read the news aloud. "I won't offer an
apology," said Wemmick, "for he isn't capable of many pleasures—are
you, Aged P.?"
"All right, John, all right," returned
the old man, seeing himself spoken to.
"Only tip him a nod every now and then when he
looks off his paper," said Wemmick, "and he'll be as happy as a king.
We are all attention, Aged One."
"All right, John, all right!" returned
the cheerful old man, so busy and so pleased, that it really was quite
charming.
The Aged's reading reminded me of the classes at
Mr. Wopsle's great-aunt's, with the pleasanter peculiarity that it seemed to
come through a keyhole. As he wanted the candles close to him, and as he was
always on the verge of putting either his head or the newspaper into them, he
required as much watching as a powder-mill. But Wemmick was equally untiring
and gentle in his vigilance, and the Aged read on, quite unconscious of his
many rescues. Whenever he looked at us, we all expressed the greatest interest
and amazement, and nodded until he resumed again.
As Wemmick and Miss Skiffins sat side by side, and
as I sat in a shadowy corner, I observed a slow and gradual elongation of Mr.
Wemmick's mouth, powerfully suggestive of his slowly and gradually stealing his
arm round Miss Skiffins's waist. In course of time I saw his hand appear on the
other side of Miss Skiffins; but at that moment Miss Skiffins neatly stopped
him with the green glove, unwound his arm again as if it were an article of
dress, and with the greatest deliberation laid it on the table before her. Miss
Skiffins's composure while she did this was one of the most remarkable sights I
have ever seen, and if I could have thought the act consistent with abstraction
of mind, I should have deemed that Miss Skiffins performed it mechanically.
By and by, I noticed Wemmick's arm beginning to
disappear again, and gradually fading out of view. Shortly afterwards, his
mouth began to widen again. After an interval of suspense on my part that was
quite enthralling and almost painful, I saw his hand appear on the other side
of Miss Skiffins. Instantly, Miss Skiffins stopped it with the neatness of a
placid boxer, took off that girdle or cestus as before, and laid it on the
table. Taking the table to represent the path of virtue, I am justified in
stating that during the whole time of the Aged's reading, Wemmick's arm was
straying from the path of virtue and being recalled to it by Miss Skiffins.
At last, the Aged read himself into a light
slumber. This was the time for Wemmick to produce a little kettle, a tray of
glasses, and a black bottle with a porcelain-topped cork, representing some
clerical dignitary of a rubicund and social aspect. With the aid of these
appliances we all had something warm to drink, including the Aged, who was soon
awake again. Miss Skiffins mixed, and I observed that she and Wemmick drank out
of one glass. Of course I knew better than to offer to see Miss Skiffins home, and
under the circumstances I thought I had best go first; which I did, taking a
cordial leave of the Aged, and having passed a pleasant evening.
Before a week was out, I received a note from
Wemmick, dated Walworth, stating that he hoped he had made some advance in that
matter appertaining to our private and personal capacities, and that he would
be glad if I could come and see him again upon it. So, I went out to Walworth
again, and yet again, and yet again, and I saw him by appointment in the City
several times, but never held any communication with him on the subject in or
near Little Britain. The upshot was, that we found a worthy young merchant or
shipping-broker, not long established in business, who wanted intelligent help,
and who wanted capital, and who in due course of time and receipt would want a
partner. Between him and me, secret articles were signed of which Herbert was
the subject, and I paid him half of my five hundred pounds down, and engaged
for sundry other payments: some, to fall due at certain dates out of my income:
some, contingent on my coming into my property. Miss Skiffins's brother
conducted the negotiation. Wemmick pervaded it throughout, but never appeared
in it.
The whole business was so cleverly managed, that
Herbert had not the least suspicion of my hand being in it. I never shall
forget the radiant face with which he came home one afternoon, and told me, as
a mighty piece of news, of his having fallen in with one Clarriker (the young
merchant's name), and of Clarriker's having shown an extraordinary inclination
towards him, and of his belief that the opening had come at last. Day by day as
his hopes grew stronger and his face brighter, he must have thought me a more
and more affectionate friend, for I had the greatest difficulty in restraining
my tears of triumph when I saw him so happy. At length, the thing being done,
and he having that day entered Clarriker's House, and he having talked to me
for a whole evening in a flush of pleasure and success, I did really cry in
good earnest when I went to bed, to think that my expectations had done some
good to somebody.
A great event in my life, the turning point of my
life, now opens on my view. But, before I proceed to narrate it, and before I
pass on to all the changes it involved, I must give one chapter to Estella. It
is not much to give to the theme that so long filled my heart.
