There was a ghostly air about these uninhabited chambers1 in the Temple, and attending every circumstance of Tom’s employment there, which had a strange charm in it. Every morning when he shut his door at Islington, he turned his face towards an atmosphere of unaccountable fascination3, as surely as he turned it to the London smoke; and from that moment it thickened round and round him all day long, until the time arrived for going home again, and leaving it, like a motionless cloud, behind.
It seemed to Tom, every morning, that he approached this ghostly mist, and became enveloped4 in it, by the easiest succession of degrees imaginable. Passing from the roar and rattle5 of the streets into the quiet court-yards of the Temple, was the first preparation. Every echo of his footsteps sounded to him like a sound from the old walls and pavements, wanting language to relate the histories of the dim, dismal6 rooms; to tell him what lost documents were decaying in forgotten corners of the shut-up cellars, from whose lattices such mouldy sighs came breathing forth7 as he went past; to whisper of dark bins8 of rare old wine, bricked up in vaults9 among the old foundations of the Halls; or mutter in a lower tone yet darker legends of the cross-legged knights10, whose marble effigies11 were in the church. With the first planting of his foot upon the staircase of his dusty office, all these mysteries increased; until, ascending12 step by step, as Tom ascended13, they attained14 their full growth in the solitary15 labours of the day.
Every day brought one recurring16, never-failing source of speculation17. This employer; would he come to-day, and what would he be like? For Tom could not stop short at Mr Fips; he quite believed that Mr Fips had spoken truly, when he said he acted for another; and what manner of man that other was, became a full-blown flower of wonder in the garden of Tom’s fancy, which never faded or got trodden down.
At one time, he conceived that Mr Pecksniff, repenting20 of his falsehood, might, by exertion21 of his influence with some third person have devised these means of giving him employment. He found this idea so insupportable after what had taken place between that good man and himself, that he confided22 it to John Westlock on the very same day; informing John that he would rather ply23 for hire as a porter, than fall so low in his own esteem24 as to accept the smallest obligation from the hands of Mr Pecksniff. But John assured him that he (Tom Pinch) was far from doing justice to the character of Mr Pecksniff yet, if he supposed that gentleman capable of performing a generous action; and that he might make his mind quite easy on that head until he saw the sun turn green and the moon black, and at the same time distinctly perceived with the naked eye, twelve first-rate comets careering round those planets. In which unusual state of things, he said (and not before), it might become not absolutely lunatic to suspect Mr Pecksniff of anything so monstrous25. In short he laughed the idea down completely; and Tom, abandoning it, was thrown upon his beam-ends again, for some other solution.
In the meantime Tom attended to his duties daily, and made considerable progress with the books; which were already reduced to some sort of order, and made a great appearance in his fairly-written catalogue. During his business hours, he indulged himself occasionally with snatches of reading; which were often, indeed, a necessary part of his pursuit; and as he usually made bold to carry one of these goblin volumes home at night (always bringing it back again next morning, in case his strange employer should appear and ask what had become of it), he led a happy, quiet, studious kind of life, after his own heart.
But though the books were never so interesting, and never so full of novelty to Tom, they could not so enchain him, in those mysterious chambers, as to render him unconscious, for a moment, of the lightest sound. Any footstep on the flags without set him listening attentively26 and when it turned into that house, and came up, up, up the stairs, he always thought with a beating heart, ‘Now I am coming face to face with him at last!’ But no footstep ever passed the floor immediately below: except his own.
This mystery and loneliness engendered27 fancies in Tom’s mind, the folly28 of which his common sense could readily discover, but which his common sense was quite unable to keep away, notwithstanding; that quality being with most of us, in such a case, like the old French Police—quick at detection, but very weak as a preventive power. Misgivings30, undefined, absurd, inexplicable31, that there was some one hiding in the inner room—walking softly overhead, peeping in through the door-chink, doing something stealthy, anywhere where he was not—came over him a hundred times a day, making it pleasant to throw up the sash, and hold communication even with the sparrows who had built in the roof and water-spout, and were twittering about the windows all day long.
He sat with the outer door wide open, at all times, that he might hear the footsteps as they entered, and turned off into the chambers on the lower floor. He formed odd prepossessions too, regarding strangers in the streets; and would say within himself of such or such a man, who struck him as having anything uncommon32 in his dress or aspect, ‘I shouldn’t wonder, now, if that were he!’ But it never was. And though he actually turned back and followed more than one of these suspected individuals, in a singular belief that they were going to the place he was then upon his way from, he never got any other satisfaction by it, than the satisfaction of knowing it was not the case.
Mr Fips, of Austin Friars, rather deepened than illumined the obscurity of his position; for on the first occasion of Tom’s waiting on him to receive his weekly pay, he said:
‘Oh! by the bye, Mr Pinch, you needn’t mention it, if you please!’
Tom thought he was going to tell him a secret; so he said that he wouldn’t on any account, and that Mr Fips might entirely33 depend upon him. But as Mr Fips said ‘Very good,’ in reply, and nothing more, Tom prompted him:
‘Not on any account,’ repeated Tom.
Mr Fips repeated: ‘Very good.’
‘You were going to say’—Tom hinted.
‘Oh dear no!’ cried Fips. ‘Not at all.’ However, seeing Tom confused, he added, ‘I mean that you needn’t mention any particulars about your place of employment, to people generally. You’ll find it better not.’
‘I have not had the pleasure of seeing my employer yet, sir,’ observed Tom, putting his week’s salary in his pocket.
‘Haven’t you?’ said Fips. ‘No, I don’t suppose you have though.’
‘I should like to thank him, and to know that what I have done so far, is done to his satisfaction,’ faltered34 Tom.
‘Quite right,’ said Mr Fips, with a yawn. ‘Highly creditable. Very proper.’
‘I shall soon have finished with the books,’ he said. ‘I hope that will not terminate my engagement, sir, or render me useless?’
‘Oh dear no!’ retorted Fips. ‘Plenty to do; plen-ty to do! Be careful how you go. It’s rather dark.’
This was the very utmost extent of information Tom could ever get out of him. So it was dark enough in all conscience; and if Mr Fips expressed himself with a double meaning, he had good reason for doing so.
But now a circumstance occurred, which helped to divert Tom’s thoughts from even this mystery, and to divide them between it and a new channel, which was a very Nile in itself.
The way it came about was this. Having always been an early riser and having now no organ to engage him in sweet converse36 every morning, it was his habit to take a long walk before going to the Temple; and naturally inclining, as a stranger, towards those parts of the town which were conspicuous37 for the life and animation38 pervading39 them, he became a great frequenter of the market-places, bridges, quays40, and especially the steam-boat wharves41; for it was very lively and fresh to see the people hurrying away upon their many schemes of business or pleasure, and it made Tom glad to think that there was that much change and freedom in the monotonous42 routine of city lives.
In most of these morning excursions Ruth accompanied him. As their landlord was always up and away at his business (whatever that might be, no one seemed to know) at a very early hour, the habits of the people of the house in which they lodged43 corresponded with their own. Thus they had often finished their breakfast, and were out in the summer air, by seven o’clock. After a two hours’ stroll they parted at some convenient point; Tom going to the Temple, and his sister returning home, as methodically as you please.
Many and many a pleasant stroll they had in Covent Garden Market; snuffing up the perfume of the fruits and flowers, wondering at the magnificence of the pineapples and melons; catching45 glimpses down side avenues, of rows and rows of old women, seated on inverted46 baskets, shelling peas; looking unutterable things at the fat bundles of asparagus with which the dainty shops were fortified47 as with a breastwork; and, at the herbalist’s doors, gratefully inhaling48 scents49 as of veal-stuffing yet uncooked, dreamily mixed up with capsicums, brown-paper, seeds, even with hints of lusty snails50 and fine young curly leeches51. Many and many a pleasant stroll they had among the poultry52 markets, where ducks and fowls53, with necks unnaturally55 long, lay stretched out in pairs, ready for cooking; where there were speckled eggs in mossy baskets, white country sausages beyond impeachment56 by surviving cat or dog, or horse or donkey; new cheeses to any wild extent, live birds in coops and cages, looking much too big to be natural, in consequence of those receptacles being much too little; rabbits, alive and dead, innumerable. Many a pleasant stroll they had among the cool, refreshing57, silvery fish-stalls, with a kind of moonlight effect about their stock-in-trade, excepting always for the ruddy lobsters58. Many a pleasant stroll among the waggon-loads of fragrant59 hay, beneath which dogs and tired waggoners lay fast asleep, oblivious60 of the pieman and the public-house. But never half so good a stroll as down among the steamboats on a bright morning.
There they lay, alongside of each other; hard and fast for ever, to all appearance, but designing to get out somehow, and quite confident of doing it; and in that faith shoals of passengers, and heaps of luggage, were proceeding61 hurriedly on board. Little steam-boats dashed up and down the stream incessantly63. Tiers upon tiers of vessels64, scores of masts, labyrinths66 of tackle, idle sails, splashing oars67, gliding68 row-boats, lumbering69 barges70, sunken piles, with ugly lodgings71 for the water-rat within their mud-discoloured nooks; church steeples, warehouses72, house-roofs, arches, bridges, men and women, children, casks, cranes, boxes, horses, coaches, idlers, and hard-labourers; there they were, all jumbled73 up together, any summer morning, far beyond Tom’s power of separation.
In the midst of all this turmoil74 there was an incessant62 roar from every packet’s funnel75, which quite expressed and carried out the uppermost emotion of the scene. They all appeared to be perspiring76 and bothering themselves, exactly as their passengers did; they never left off fretting77 and chafing78, in their own hoarse79 manner, once; but were always panting out, without any stops, ‘Come along do make haste I’m very nervous come along oh good gracious we shall never get there how late you are do make haste I’m off directly come along!’
Even when they had left off, and had got safely out into the current, on the smallest provocation80 they began again; for the bravest packet of them all, being stopped by some entanglement81 in the river, would immediately begin to fume44 and pant afresh, ‘oh here’s a stoppage what’s the matter do go on there I’m in a hurry it’s done on purpose did you ever oh my goodness do go on here!’ and so, in a state of mind bordering on distraction82, would be last seen drifting slowly through the mist into the summer light beyond, that made it red.
Tom’s ship, however; or, at least, the packet-boat in which Tom and his sister took the greatest interest on one particular occasion; was not off yet, by any means; but was at the height of its disorder83. The press of passengers was very great; another steam-boat lay on each side of her; the gangways were choked up; distracted women, obviously bound for Gravesend, but turning a deaf ear to all representations that this particular vessel65 was about to sail for Antwerp, persisted in secreting84 baskets of refreshments85 behind bulk-heads, and water-casks, and under seats; and very great confusion prevailed.
It was so amusing, that Tom, with Ruth upon his arm, stood looking down from the wharf86, as nearly regardless as it was in the nature of flesh and blood to be, of an elderly lady behind him, who had brought a large umbrella with her, and didn’t know what to do with it. This tremendous instrument had a hooked handle; and its vicinity was first made known to him by a painful pressure on the windpipe, consequent upon its having caught him round the throat. Soon after disengaging himself with perfect good humour, he had a sensation of the ferule in his back; immediately afterwards, of the hook entangling87 his ankles; then of the umbrella generally, wandering about his hat, and flapping at it like a great bird; and, lastly, of a poke19 or thrust below the ribs88, which give him such exceeding anguish89, that he could not refrain from turning round to offer a mild remonstrance90.
Upon his turning round, he found the owner of the umbrella struggling on tip-toe, with a countenance91 expressive92 of violent animosity, to look down upon the steam-boats; from which he inferred that she had attacked him, standing29 in the front row, by design, and as her natural enemy.
‘What a very ill-natured person you must be!’ said Tom.
The lady cried out fiercely, ‘Where’s the pelisse!’—meaning the constabulary—and went on to say, shaking the handle of the umbrella at Tom, that but for them fellers never being in the way when they was wanted, she’d have given him in charge, she would.
‘If they greased their whiskers less, and minded the duties which they’re paid so heavy for, a little more,’ she observed, ‘no one needn’t be drove mad by scrouding so!’
She had been grievously knocked about, no doubt, for her bonnet93 was bent94 into the shape of a cocked hat. Being a fat little woman, too, she was in a state of great exhaustion95 and intense heat. Instead of pursuing the altercation96, therefore, Tom civilly inquired what boat she wanted to go on board of?
‘I suppose,’ returned the lady, ‘as nobody but yourself can want to look at a steam package, without wanting to go a-boarding of it, can they! Booby!’
‘Which one do you want to look at then?’ said Tom. ‘We’ll make room for you if we can. Don’t be so ill-tempered.’
‘No blessed creetur as ever I was with in trying times,’ returned the lady, somewhat softened97, ‘and they’re a many in their numbers, ever brought it as a charge again myself that I was anythin’ but mild and equal in my spirits. Never mind a contradicting of me, if you seem to feel it does you good, ma’am, I often says, for well you know that Sairey may be trusted not to give it back again. But I will not denige that I am worrited and wexed this day, and with good reagion, Lord forbid!’
By this time, Mrs Gamp (for it was no other than that experienced practitioner) had, with Tom’s assistance, squeezed and worked herself into a small corner between Ruth and the rail; where, after breathing very hard for some little time, and performing a short series of dangerous evolutions with her umbrella, she managed to establish herself pretty comfortably.
‘And which of all them smoking monsters is the Ankworks boat, I wonder. Goodness me!’ cried Mrs Gamp.
‘What boat did you want?’ asked Ruth.
‘The Ankworks package,’ Mrs Gamp replied. ‘I will not deceive you, my sweet. Why should I?’
‘That is the Antwerp packet in the middle,’ said Ruth.
‘And I wish it was in Jonadge’s belly98, I do,’ cried Mrs Gamp; appearing to confound the prophet with the whale in this miraculous99 aspiration100.
Ruth said nothing in reply; but, as Mrs Gamp, laying her chin against the cool iron of the rail, continued to look intently at the Antwerp boat, and every now and then to give a little groan101, she inquired whether any child of hers was going aboard that morning? Or perhaps her husband, she said kindly102.
‘Which shows,’ said Mrs Gamp, casting up her eyes, ‘what a little way you’ve travelled into this wale of life, my dear young creetur! As a good friend of mine has frequent made remark to me, which her name, my love, is Harris, Mrs Harris through the square and up the steps a-turnin’ round by the tobacker shop, “Oh Sairey, Sairey, little do we know wot lays afore us!” “Mrs Harris, ma’am,” I says, “not much, it’s true, but more than you suppoge. Our calcilations, ma’am,” I says, “respectin’ wot the number of a family will be, comes most times within one, and oftener than you would suppoge, exact.” “Sairey,” says Mrs Harris, in a awful way, “Tell me wot is my indiwidgle number.” “No, Mrs Harris,” I says to her, “ex-cuge me, if you please. My own,” I says, “has fallen out of three-pair backs, and had damp doorsteps settled on their lungs, and one was turned up smilin’ in a bedstead unbeknown. Therefore, ma’am,” I says, “seek not to proticipate, but take ‘em as they come and as they go.” Mine,’ says Mrs Gamp, ‘mine is all gone, my dear young chick. And as to husbands, there’s a wooden leg gone likeways home to its account, which in its constancy of walkin’ into wine vaults, and never comin’ out again ‘till fetched by force, was quite as weak as flesh, if not weaker.’
When she had delivered this oration103, Mrs Gamp leaned her chin upon the cool iron again; and looking intently at the Antwerp packet, shook her head and groaned104.
‘I wouldn’t,’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘I wouldn’t be a man and have such a think upon my mind!—but nobody as owned the name of man, could do it!’
Tom and his sister glanced at each other; and Ruth, after a moment’s hesitation105, asked Mrs Gamp what troubled her so much.
‘My dear,’ returned that lady, dropping her voice, ‘you are single, ain’t you?’
Ruth laughed blushed, and said ‘Yes.’
‘Worse luck,’ proceeded Mrs Gamp, ‘for all parties! But others is married, and in the marriage state; and there is a dear young creetur a-comin’ down this mornin’ to that very package, which is no more fit to trust herself to sea, than nothin’ is!’
She paused here to look over the deck of the packet in question, and on the steps leading down to it, and on the gangways. Seeming to have thus assured herself that the object of her commiseration106 had not yet arrived, she raised her eyes gradually up to the top of the escape-pipe, and indignantly apostrophised the vessel:
‘Oh, drat you!’ said Mrs Gamp, shaking her umbrella at it, ‘you’re a nice spluttering nisy monster for a delicate young creetur to go and be a passinger by; ain’t you! you never do no harm in that way, do you? With your hammering, and roaring, and hissing107, and lamp-iling, you brute108! Them Confugion steamers,’ said Mrs Gamp, shaking her umbrella again, ‘has done more to throw us out of our reg’lar work and bring ewents on at times when nobody counted on ‘em (especially them screeching109 railroad ones), than all the other frights that ever was took. I have heerd of one young man, a guard upon a railway, only three years opened—well does Mrs Harris know him, which indeed he is her own relation by her sister’s marriage with a master sawyer—as is godfather at this present time to six-and-twenty blessed little strangers, equally unexpected, and all on ‘um named after the Ingeines as was the cause. Ugh!’ said Mrs Gamp, resuming her apostrophe, ‘one might easy know you was a man’s inwention, from your disregardlessness of the weakness of our naturs, so one might, you brute!’
It would not have been unnatural54 to suppose, from the first part of Mrs Gamp’s lamentations, that she was connected with the stage-coaching or post-horsing trade. She had no means of judging of the effect of her concluding remarks upon her young companion; for she interrupted herself at this point, and exclaimed:
‘There she identically goes! Poor sweet young creetur, there she goes, like a lamb to the sacrifige! If there’s any illness when that wessel gets to sea,’ said Mrs Gamp, prophetically, ‘it’s murder, and I’m the witness for the persecution110.’
She was so very earnest on the subject, that Tom’s sister (being as kind as Tom himself) could not help saying something to her in reply.
‘Pray, which is the lady,’ she inquired, ‘in whom you are so much interested?’
‘There!’ groaned Mrs Gamp. ‘There she goes! A-crossin’ the little wooden bridge at this minute. She’s a-slippin’ on a bit of orangepeel!’ tightly clutching her umbrella. ‘What a turn it give me.’
‘Do you mean the lady who is with that man wrapped up from head to foot in a large cloak, so that his face is almost hidden?’
‘Well he may hide it!’ Mrs Gamp replied. ‘He’s good call to be ashamed of himself. Did you see him a-jerking of her wrist, then?’
‘He seems to be hasty with her, indeed.’
‘Now he’s a-taking of her down into the close cabin!’ said Mrs Gamp, impatiently. ‘What’s the man about! The deuce is in him, I think. Why can’t he leave her in the open air?’
He did not, whatever his reason was, but led her quickly down and disappeared himself, without loosening his cloak, or pausing on the crowded deck one moment longer than was necessary to clear their way to that part of the vessel.
Tom had not heard this little dialogue; for his attention had been engaged in an unexpected manner. A hand upon his sleeve had caused him to look round, just when Mrs Gamp concluded her apostrophe to the steam-engine; and on his right arm, Ruth being on his left, he found their landlord, to his great surprise.
He was not so much surprised at the man’s being there, as at his having got close to him so quietly and swiftly; for another person had been at his elbow one instant before; and he had not in the meantime been conscious of any change or pressure in the knot of people among whom he stood. He and Ruth had frequently remarked how noiselessly this landlord of theirs came into and went out of his own house; but Tom was not the less amazed to see him at his elbow now.
‘I beg your pardon, Mr Pinch,’ he said in his ear. ‘I am rather infirm, and out of breath, and my eyes are not very good. I am not as young as I was, sir. You don’t see a gentleman in a large cloak down yonder, with a lady on his arm; a lady in a veil and a black shawl; do you?’
If he did not, it was curious that in speaking he should have singled out from all the crowd the very people whom he described; and should have glanced hastily from them to Tom, as if he were burning to direct his wandering eyes.
‘A gentleman in a large cloak!’ said Tom, ‘and a lady in a black shawl! Let me see!’
‘Yes, yes!’ replied the other, with keen impatience111. ‘A gentleman muffled112 up from head to foot—strangely muffled up for such a morning as this—like an invalid113, with his hand to his face at this minute, perhaps. No, no, no! not there,’ he added, following Tom’s gaze; ‘the other way; in that direction; down yonder.’ Again he indicated, but this time in his hurry, with his outstretched finger, the very spot on which the progress of these persons was checked at that moment.
‘There are so many people, and so much motion, and so many objects,’ said Tom, ‘that I find it difficult to—no, I really don’t see a gentleman in a large cloak, and a lady in a black shawl. There’s a lady in a red shawl over there!’
‘No, no, no!’ cried his landlord, pointing eagerly again, ‘not there. The other way; the other way. Look at the cabin steps. To the left. They must be near the cabin steps. Do you see the cabin steps? There’s the bell ringing already! do you see the steps?’
‘Stay!’ said Tom, ‘you’re right. Look! there they go now. Is that the gentleman you mean? Descending114 at this minute, with the folds of a great cloak trailing down after him?’
‘The very man!’ returned the other, not looking at what Tom pointed115 out, however, but at Tom’s own face. ‘Will you do me a kindness, sir, a great kindness? Will you put that letter in his hand? Only give him that! He expects it. I am charged to do it by my employers, but I am late in finding him, and, not being as young as I have been, should never be able to make my way on board and off the deck again in time. Will you pardon my boldness, and do me that great kindness?’
His hands shook, and his face bespoke116 the utmost interest and agitation117, as he pressed the letter upon Tom, and pointed to its destination, like the Tempter in some grim old carving118.
To hesitate in the performance of a good-natured or compassionate119 office was not in Tom’s way. He took the letter; whispered Ruth to wait till he returned, which would be immediately; and ran down the steps with all the expedition he could make. There were so many people going down, so many others coming up, such heavy goods in course of transit120 to and fro, such a ringing of bell, blowing-off of steam, and shouting of men’s voices, that he had much ado to force his way, or keep in mind to which boat he was going. But he reached the right one with good speed, and going down the cabin-stairs immediately, described the object of his search standing at the upper end of the saloon, with his back towards him, reading some notice which was hung against the wall. As Tom advanced to give him the letter, he started, hearing footsteps, and turned round.
What was Tom’s astonishment121 to find in him the man with whom he had had the conflict in the field—poor Mercy’s husband. Jonas!
Tom understood him to say, what the devil did he want; but it was not easy to make out what he said; he spoke18 so indistinctly.
‘I want nothing with you for myself,’ said Tom; ‘I was asked, a moment since, to give you this letter. You were pointed out to me, but I didn’t know you in your strange dress. Take it!’
He did so, opened it, and read the writing on the inside. The contents were evidently very brief; not more perhaps than one line; but they struck upon him like a stone from a sling2. He reeled back as he read.
His emotion was so different from any Tom had ever seen before that he stopped involuntarily. Momentary122 as his state of indecision was, the bell ceased while he stood there, and a hoarse voice calling down the steps, inquired if there was any to go ashore123?
‘Yes,’ cried Jonas, ‘I—I am coming. Give me time. Where’s that woman! Come back; come back here.’
He threw open another door as he spoke, and dragged, rather than led, her forth. She was pale and frightened, and amazed to see her old acquaintance; but had no time to speak, for they were making a great stir above; and Jonas drew her rapidly towards the deck.
‘Where are we going? What is the matter?’
‘We are going back,’ said Jonas. ‘I have changed my mind. I can’t go. Don’t question me, or I shall be the death of you, or some one else. Stop there! Stop! We’re for the shore. Do you hear? We’re for the shore!’
He turned, even in the madness of his hurry, and scowling124 darkly back at Tom, shook his clenched125 hand at him. There are not many human faces capable of the expression with which he accompanied that gesture.
He dragged her up, and Tom followed them. Across the deck, over the side, along the crazy plank126, and up the steps, he dragged her fiercely; not bestowing127 any look on her, but gazing upwards128 all the while among the faces on the wharf. Suddenly he turned again, and said to Tom with a tremendous oath:
‘Where is he?’
Before Tom, in his indignation and amazement129, could return an answer to a question he so little understood, a gentleman approached Tom behind, and saluted130 Jonas Chuzzlewit by name. He has a gentleman of foreign appearance, with a black moustache and whiskers; and addressed him with a polite composure, strangely different from his own distracted and desperate manner.
‘Chuzzlewit, my good fellow!’ said the gentleman, raising his hat in compliment to Mrs Chuzzlewit, ‘I ask your pardon twenty thousand times. I am most unwilling131 to interfere132 between you and a domestic trip of this nature (always so very charming and refreshing, I know, although I have not the happiness to be a domestic man myself, which is the great infelicity of my existence); but the beehive, my dear friend, the beehive—will you introduce me?’
‘This is Mr Montague,’ said Jonas, whom the words appeared to choke.
‘The most unhappy and most penitent133 of men, Mrs Chuzzlewit,’ pursued that gentleman, ‘for having been the means of spoiling this excursion; but as I tell my friend, the beehive, the beehive. You projected a short little continental134 trip, my dear friend, of course?’
Jonas maintained a dogged silence.
‘May I die,’ cried Montague, ‘but I am shocked! Upon my soul I am shocked. But that confounded beehive of ours in the city must be paramount135 to every other consideration, when there is honey to be made; and that is my best excuse. Here is a very singular old female dropping curtseys on my right,’ said Montague, breaking off in his discourse136, and looking at Mrs Gamp, ‘who is not a friend of mine. Does anybody know her?’
‘Ah! Well they knows me, bless their precious hearts!’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘not forgettin’ your own merry one, sir, and long may it be so! Wishin’ as every one’ (she delivered this in the form of a toast or sentiment) ‘was as merry, and as handsome-lookin’, as a little bird has whispered me a certain gent is, which I will not name for fear I give offence where none is doo! My precious lady,’ here she stopped short in her merriment, for she had until now affected137 to be vastly entertained, ‘you’re too pale by half!’
‘You are here too, are you?’ muttered Jonas. ‘Ecod, there are enough of you.’
‘I hope, sir,’ returned Mrs Gamp, dropping an indignant curtsey, ‘as no bones is broke by me and Mrs Harris a-walkin’ down upon a public wharf. Which was the very words she says to me (although they was the last I ever had to speak) was these: “Sairey,” she says, “is it a public wharf?” “Mrs Harris,” I makes answer, “can you doubt it? You have know’d me now, ma’am, eight and thirty year; and did you ever know me go, or wish to go, where I was not made welcome, say the words.” “No, Sairey,” Mrs Harris says, “contrairy quite.” And well she knows it too. I am but a poor woman, but I’ve been sought after, sir, though you may not think it. I’ve been knocked up at all hours of the night, and warned out by a many landlords, in consequence of being mistook for Fire. I goes out workin’ for my bread, ‘tis true, but I maintains my independency, with your kind leave, and which I will till death. I has my feelins as a woman, sir, and I have been a mother likeways; but touch a pipkin as belongs to me, or make the least remarks on what I eats or drinks, and though you was the favouritest young for’ard hussy of a servant-gal as ever come into a house, either you leaves the place, or me. My earnins is not great, sir, but I will not be impoged upon. Bless the babe, and save the mother, is my mortar138, sir; but I makes so free as add to that, Don’t try no impogician with the Nuss, for she will not abear it!’
Mrs Gamp concluded by drawing her shawl tightly over herself with both hands, and, as usual, referring to Mrs Harris for full corroboration139 of these particulars. She had that peculiar140 trembling of the head which, in ladies of her excitable nature, may be taken as a sure indication of their breaking out again very shortly; when Jonas made a timely interposition.
‘As you are here,’ he said, ‘you had better see to her, and take her home. I am otherwise engaged.’ He said nothing more; but looked at Montague as if to give him notice that he was ready to attend him.
‘I am sorry to take you away,’ said Montague.
Jonas gave him a sinister141 look, which long lived in Tom’s memory, and which he often recalled afterwards.
‘I am, upon my life,’ said Montague. ‘Why did you make it necessary?’
With the same dark glance as before, Jonas replied, after a moment’s silence:
‘The necessity is none of my making. You have brought it about yourself.’
He said nothing more. He said even this as if he were bound, and in the other’s power, but had a sullen142 and suppressed devil within him, which he could not quite resist. His very gait, as they walked away together, was like that of a fettered143 man; but, striving to work out at his clenched hands, knitted brows, and fast-set lips, was the same imprisoned144 devil still.
They got into a handsome cabriolet which was waiting for them and drove away.
The whole of this extraordinary scene had passed so rapidly and the tumult145 which prevailed around as so unconscious of any impression from it, that, although Tom had been one of the chief actors, it was like a dream. No one had noticed him after they had left the packet. He had stood behind Jonas, and so near him, that he could not help hearing all that passed. He had stood there, with his sister on his arm, expecting and hoping to have an opportunity of explaining his strange share in this yet stranger business. But Jonas had not raised his eyes from the ground; no one else had even looked towards him; and before he could resolve on any course of action, they were all gone.
He gazed round for his landlord. But he had done that more than once already, and no such man was to be seen. He was still pursuing this search with his eyes, when he saw a hand beckoning146 to him from a hackney-coach; and hurrying towards it, found it was Merry’s. She addressed him hurriedly, but bent out of the window, that she might not be overheard by her companion, Mrs Gamp.
‘What is it?’ she said. ‘Good heaven, what is it? Why did he tell me last night to prepare for a long journey, and why have you brought us back like criminals? Dear Mr Pinch!’ she clasped her hands distractedly, ‘be merciful to us. Whatever this dreadful secret is, be merciful, and God will bless you!’
‘If any power of mercy lay with me,’ cried Tom, ‘trust me, you shouldn’t ask in vain. But I am far more ignorant and weak than you.’
She withdrew into the coach again, and he saw the hand waving towards him for a moment; but whether in reproachfulness or incredulity or misery147, or grief, or sad adieu, or what else, he could not, being so hurried, understand. She was gone now; and Ruth and he were left to walk away, and wonder.
Had Mr Nadgett appointed the man who never came, to meet him upon London Bridge that morning? He was certainly looking over the parapet, and down upon the steamboat-wharf at that moment. It could not have been for pleasure; he never took pleasure. No. He must have had some business there.
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1
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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2
sling
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| vt.扔；悬挂；n.挂带；吊索，吊兜；弹弓 | |
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3
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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5
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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6
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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bins
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| n.大储藏箱( bin的名词复数 )；宽口箱（如面包箱，垃圾箱等）v.扔掉，丢弃( bin的第三人称单数 ) | |
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vaults
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| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
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knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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effigies
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| n.（人的）雕像，模拟像，肖像( effigy的名词复数 ) | |
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12
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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15
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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16
recurring
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| adj.往复的，再次发生的 | |
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speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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18
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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19
poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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20
repenting
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的现在分词 ) | |
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21
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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ply
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| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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25
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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engendered
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| v.产生（某形势或状况），造成，引起( engender的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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30
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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31
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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32
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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33
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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34
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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35
tack
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| n.大头钉；假缝，粗缝 | |
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36
converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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37
conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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38
animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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39
pervading
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
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40
quays
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| 码头( quay的名词复数 ) | |
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41
wharves
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| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
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42
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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43
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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44
fume
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| n.(usu pl.)(浓烈或难闻的)烟，气，汽 | |
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45
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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46
inverted
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| adj.反向的，倒转的v.使倒置，使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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48
inhaling
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| v.吸入( inhale的现在分词 ) | |
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49
scents
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| n.香水( scent的名词复数 )；气味；（动物的）臭迹；（尤指狗的）嗅觉 | |
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50
snails
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| n.蜗牛；迟钝的人；蜗牛( snail的名词复数 ) | |
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51
leeches
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| n.水蛭( leech的名词复数 )；蚂蟥；榨取他人脂膏者；医生 | |
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52
poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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53
fowls
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| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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54
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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55
unnaturally
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| adv.违反习俗地；不自然地；勉强地；不近人情地 | |
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56
impeachment
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| n.弹劾；控告；怀疑 | |
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57
refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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58
lobsters
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| 龙虾( lobster的名词复数 )； 龙虾肉 | |
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59
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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60
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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61
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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62
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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63
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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64
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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65
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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66
labyrinths
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| 迷宫( labyrinth的名词复数 )； （文字，建筑）错综复杂的 | |
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67
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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68
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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69
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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70
barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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71
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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72
warehouses
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| 仓库，货栈( warehouse的名词复数 ) | |
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73
jumbled
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| adj.混乱的；杂乱的 | |
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74
turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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75
funnel
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| n.漏斗；烟囱；v.汇集 | |
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76
perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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77
fretting
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| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
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78
chafing
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| n.皮肤发炎v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的现在分词 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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79
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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80
provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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81
entanglement
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| n.纠缠，牵累 | |
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82
distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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83
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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84
secreting
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| v.（尤指动物或植物器官）分泌( secrete的现在分词 )；隐匿，隐藏 | |
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85
refreshments
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| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
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86
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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87
entangling
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| v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的现在分词 ) | |
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88
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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89
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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90
remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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91
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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92
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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93
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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94
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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95
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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96
altercation
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| n.争吵，争论 | |
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97
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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98
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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99
miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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100
aspiration
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| n.志向，志趣抱负；渴望；(语)送气音；吸出 | |
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101
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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102
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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103
oration
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| n.演说，致辞，叙述法 | |
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104
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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105
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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106
commiseration
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| n.怜悯，同情 | |
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107
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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108
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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109
screeching
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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110
persecution
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| n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
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111
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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112
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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113
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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114
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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115
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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116
bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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117
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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118
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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119
compassionate
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| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
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120
transit
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| n.经过，运输；vt.穿越，旋转；vi.越过 | |
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121
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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122
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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123
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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124
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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125
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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126
plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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127
bestowing
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| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
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128
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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129
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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130
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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131
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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132
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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133
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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134
continental
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| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
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135
paramount
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| a.最重要的，最高权力的 | |
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136
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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137
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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138
mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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139
corroboration
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| n.进一步的证实，进一步的证据 | |
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140
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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141
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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142
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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143
fettered
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| v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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144
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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145
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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146
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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147
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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