The Old Curiosity Shop

by Dickens, Charles

  composed yourself, very glad.'

  'Nay, Quilp, good Quilp,' gasped the old man, catching at his

  skirts, 'you and I have talked together, more than once, of her

  poor mother's story. The fear of her coming to poverty has perhaps

  been bred in me by that. Do not be hard upon me, but take that into

  account. You are a great gainer by me. Oh spare me the money for

  this one last hope!'

  'I couldn't do it really,' said Quilp with unusual politeness,

  'though I tell you what--and this is a circumstance worth bearing

  in mind as showing how the sharpest among us may be taken in

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  sometimes--I was so deceived by the penurious way in which you

  lived, alone with Nelly--'

  'All done to save money for tempting fortune, and to make her

  triumph greater,' cried the old man.

  'Yes, yes, I understand that now,' said Quilp; 'but I was going to

  say, I was so deceived by that, your miserly way, the reputation

  you had among those who knew you of being rich, and your repeated

  assurances that you would make of my advances treble and quadruple

  the interest you paid me, that I'd have advanced you, even now,

  what you want, on your simple note of hand, if I hadn't

  unexpectedly become acquainted with your secret way of life.'

  'Who is it,' retorted the old man desperately, 'that,

  notwithstanding all my caution, told you? Come. Let me know the

  name--the person.'

  The crafty dwarf, bethinking himself that his giving up the child

  would lead to the disclosure of the artifice he had employed,

  which, as nothing was to be gained by it, it was well to conceal,

  stopped short in his answer and said, 'Now, who do you think?'

  'It was Kit, it must have been the boy; he played the spy, and you

  tampered with him?' said the old man.

  'How came you to think of him?' said the dwarf in a tone of great

  commiseration. 'Yes, it was Kit. Poor Kit!'

  So saying, he nodded in a friendly manner, and took his leave:

  stopping when he had passed the outer door a little distance, and

  grinning with extraordinary delight.

  'Poor Kit!' muttered Quilp. 'I think it was Kit who said I was an

  uglier dwarf than could be seen anywhere for a penny, wasn't it. Ha

  ha ha! Poor Kit!' And with that he went his way, still chuckling as

  he went.

  CHAPTER 10

  Daniel Quilp neither entered nor left the old man's house,

  unobserved. In the shadow of an archway nearly opposite, leading to

  one of the many passages which diverged from the main street, there

  lingered one, who, having taken up his position when the twilight

  first came on, still maintained it with undiminished patience, and

  leaning against the wall with the manner of a person who had a long

  time to wait, and being well used to it was quite resigned,

  scarcely changed his attitude for the hour together.

  This patient lounger attracted little attention from any of those

  who passed, and bestowed as little upon them. His eyes were

  constantly directed towards one object; the window at which the

  child was accustomed to sit. If he withdrew them for a moment, it

  was only to glance at a clock in some neighbouring shop, and then

  to strain his sight once more in the old quarter with increased

  earnestness and attention.

  It had been remarked that this personage evinced no weariness in

  his place of concealment; nor did he, long as his waiting was. But

  as the time went on, he manifested some anxiety and surprise,

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  glancing at the clock more frequently and at the window less

  hopefully than before. At length, the clock was hidden from his

  sight by some envious shutters, then the church steeples proclaimed

  eleven at night, then the quarter past, and then the conviction

  seemed to obtrude itself on his mind that it was no use tarrying

  there any longer.

  That the conviction was an unwelcome one, and that he was by no

  means willing to yield to it, was apparent from his reluctance to

  quit the spot; from the tardy steps with which he often left it,

  still looking over his shoulder at the same window; and from the

  precipitation with which he as often returned, when a fancied noise

  or the changing and imperfect light induced him to suppose it had

  been softly raised. At length, he gave the matter up, as hopeless

  for that night, and suddenly breaking into a run as though to force

  himself away, scampered off at his utmost speed, nor once ventured

  to look behind him lest he should be tempted back again.

  Without relaxing his pace, or stopping to take breath, this

  mysterious individual dashed on through a great many alleys and

  narrow ways until he at length arrived in a square paved court,

  when he subsided into a walk, and making for a small house from the

  window of which a light was shining, lifted the latch of the door

  and passed in.

  'Bless us!' cried a woman turning sharply round, 'who's that? Oh!

  It's you, Kit!'

  'Yes, mother, it's me.'

  'Why, how tired you look, my dear!'

  'Old master an't gone out to-night,' said Kit; 'and so she hasn't

  been at the window at all.' With which words, he sat down by the

  fire and looked very mournful and discontented.

  The room in which Kit sat himself down, in this condition, was an

  extremely poor and homely place, but with that air of comfort about

  it, nevertheless, which--or the spot must be a wretched one indeed--

  cleanliness and order can always impart in some degree. Late as

  the Dutch clock' showed it to be, the poor woman was still hard at

  work at an ironing-table; a young child lay sleeping in a cradle

  near the fire; and another, a sturdy boy of two or three years old,

  very wide awake, with a very tight night-cap on his head, and a

  night-gown very much too small for him on his body, was sitting

  bolt upright in a clothes-basket, staring over the rim with his

  great round eyes, and looking as if he had thoroughly made up his

  mind never to go to sleep any more; which, as he had already

  declined to take his natural rest and had been brought out of bed

  in consequence, opened a cheerful prospect for his relations and

  friends. It was rather a queer-looking family: Kit, his mother, and

  the children, being all strongly alike.

  Kit was disposed to be out of temper, as the best of us are too

  often--but he looked at the youngest child who was sleeping

  soundly, and from him to his other brother in the clothes-basket,

  and from him to their mother, who had been at work without

  complaint since morning, and thought it would be a better and

  kinder thing to be good-humoured. So he rocked the cradle with his

  foot; made a face at the rebel in the clothes-basket, which put him

  in high good-humour directly; and stoutly determined to be

  talkative and make himself agreeable.

  'Ah, mother!' said Kit, taking out his clasp-knife, and falling

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osity Shop

  upon a great piece of bread and meat which she had had ready for

  him, hours before, 'what a one you are! There an't many such as

  you, I know.'

  'I hope there are many a great deal better, Kit,' said Mrs Nubbles;

  'and that there are, or ought to be, accordin' to what the parson

  at chapel says.'

  'Much he knows about it,' returned Kit contemptuously. 'Wait till

  he's a widder and works like you do, and gets as little, and does

  as much, and keeps his spirit up the same, and then I'll ask him

  what's o'clock and trust him for being right to half a second.'

  'Well,' said Mrs Nubbles, evading the point, 'your beer's down

  there by the fender, Kit.'

  'I see,' replied her son, taking up the porter pot, 'my love to

  you, mother. And the parson's health too if you like. I don't bear

  him any malice, not I!'

  'Did you tell me, just now, that your master hadn't gone out

  to-night?' inquired Mrs Nubbles.

  'Yes,' said Kit, 'worse luck!'

  'You should say better luck, I think,' returned his mother,

  'because Miss Nelly won't have been left alone.'

  'Ah!' said Kit, 'I forgot that. I said worse luck, because I've

  been watching ever since eight o'clock, and seen nothing of her.'

  'I wonder what she'd say,' cried his mother, stopping in her work

  and looking round, 'if she knew that every night, when she--poor

  thing--is sitting alone at that window, you are watching in the

  open street for fear any harm should come to her, and that you

  never leave the place or come home to your bed though you're ever

  so tired, till such time as you think she's safe in hers.'

  'Never mind what she'd say,' replied Kit, with something like a

  blush on his uncouth face; 'she'll never know nothing, and

  consequently, she'll never say nothing.'

  Mrs Nubbles ironed away in silence for a minute or two, and coming

  to the fireplace for another iron, glanced stealthily at Kit while

  she rubbed it on a board and dusted it with a duster, but said

  nothing until she had returned to her table again: when, holding

  the iron at an alarmingly short distance from her cheek, to test

  its temperature, and looking round with a smile, she observed:

  'I know what some people would say, Kit--'

  'Nonsense,' interposed Kit with a perfect apprehension of what was

  to follow.

  'No, but they would indeed. Some people would say that you'd fallen

  in love with her, I know they would.'

  To this, Kit only replied by bashfully bidding his mother 'get

  out,' and forming sundry strange figures with his legs and arms,

  accompanied by sympathetic contortions of his face. Not deriving

  from these means the relief which he sought, he bit off an immense

  mouthful from the bread and meat, and took a quick drink of the

  porter; by which artificial aids he choked himself and effected a

  diversion of the subject.

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  'Speaking seriously though, Kit,' said his mother, taking up the

  theme afresh, after a time, 'for of course I was only in joke just

  now, it's very good and thoughtful, and like you, to do this, and

  never let anybody know it, though some day I hope she may come to

  know it, for I'm sure she would be very grateful to you and feel it

  very much. It's a cruel thing to keep the dear child shut up there.

  I don't wonder that the old gentleman wants to keep it from you.'

  'He don't think it's cruel, bless you,' said Kit, 'and don't mean

  it to be so, or he wouldn't do it--I do consider, mother, that he

  wouldn't do it for all the gold and silver in the world. No, no,

  that he wouldn't. I know him better than that.'

  'Then what does he do it for, and why does he keep it so close from

  you?' said Mrs Nubbles.

  'That I don't know,' returned her son. 'If he hadn't tried to keep

  it so close though, I should never have found it out, for it was

  his getting me away at night and sending me off so much earlier

  than he used to, that first made me curious to know what was going

  on. Hark! what's that?'

  'It's only somebody outside.'

  'It's somebody crossing over here,' said Kit, standing up to

  listen, 'and coming very fast too. He can't have gone out after I

  left, and the house caught fire, mother!'

  The boy stood, for a moment, really bereft, by the apprehension he

  had conjured up, of the power to move. The footsteps drew nearer,

  the door was opened with a hasty hand, and the child herself, pale

  and breathless, and hastily wrapped in a few disordered garments,

  hurried into the room.

  'Miss Nelly! What is the matter!' cried mother and son together.

  'I must not stay a moment,' she returned, 'grandfather has been

  taken very ill. I found him in a fit upon the floor--'

  'I'll run for a doctor'--said Kit, seizing his brimless hat. 'I'll

  be there directly, I'll--'

  'No, no,' cried Nell, 'there is one there, you're not wanted, you--

  you--must never come near us any more!'

  'What!' roared Kit.

  'Never again,' said the child. 'Don't ask me why, for I don't know.

  Pray don't ask me why, pray don't be sorry, pray don't be vexed

  with me! I have nothing to do with it indeed!'

  Kit looked at her with his eyes stretched wide; and opened and shut

  his mouth a great many times; but couldn't get out one word.

  'He complains and raves of you,' said the child, 'I don't know what

  you have done, but I hope it's nothing very bad.'

  'I done!' roared Kit.

  'He cries that you're the cause of all his misery,' returned the

  child with tearful eyes; 'he screamed and called for you; they say

  you must not come near him or he will die. You must not return to

  us any more. I came to tell you. I thought it would be better that

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  I should come than somebody quite strange. Oh, Kit, what have you

  done? You, in whom I trusted so much, and who were almost the only

  friend I had!'

  The unfortunate Kit looked at his young mistress harder and harder,

  and with eyes growing wider and wider, but was perfectly motionless

  and silent.

  'I have brought his money for the week,' said the child, looking to

  the woman and laying it on the table--'and--and--a little more,

  for he was always good and kind to me. I hope he will be sorry and

  do well somewhere else and not take this to heart too much. It

  grieves me very much to part with him like this, but there is no

  help. It must be done. Good night!'

  With the tears streaming down her face, and her slight figure

  trembling with the agitation of the scene she had left, the shock

  she had received, the errand she had just discharged, and a

  thousand painful and affectionate feelings, the child hastened to

  the door, and disappeared as rapidly as she had come.

  The poor woman, who had no cause to doubt her son, but every

  reason for relying on his honesty and truth, was staggered,

  notwithstanding, by his not having advanced one word in his

  d
efence. Visions of gallantry, knavery, robbery; and of the nightly

  absences from home for which he had accounted so strangely, having

  been occasioned by some unlawful pursuit; flocked into her brain

  and rendered her afraid to question him. She rocked herself upon a

  chair, wringing her hands and weeping bitterly, but Kit made no

  attempt to comfort her and remained quite bewildered. The baby in

  the cradle woke up and cried; the boy in the clothes-basket fell

  over on his back with the basket upon him, and was seen no more;

  the mother wept louder yet and rocked faster; but Kit, insensible

  to all the din and tumult, remained in a state of utter stupefaction.

  CHAPTER 11

  Quiet and solitude were destined to hold uninterrupted rule no

  longer, beneath the roof that sheltered the child. Next morning,

  the old man was in a raging fever accompanied with delirium; and

  sinking under the influence of this disorder he lay for many weeks

  in imminent peril of his life. There was watching enough, now, but

  it was the watching of strangers who made a greedy trade of it, and

  who, in the intervals in their attendance upon the sick man huddled

  together with a ghastly good-fellowship, and ate and drank and made

  merry; for disease and death were their ordinary household gods.

  Yet, in all the hurry and crowding of such a time, the child was

  more alone than she had ever been before; alone in spirit, alone in

  her devotion to him who was wasting away upon his burning bed;

  alone in her unfeigned sorrow, and her unpurchased sympathy. Day

  after day, and night after night, found her still by the pillow of

  the unconscious sufferer, still anticipating his every want, still

  listening to those repetitions of her name and those anxieties and

  cares for her, which were ever uppermost among his feverish

  wanderings.

  The house was no longer theirs. Even the sick chamber seemed to be

  retained, on the uncertain tenure of Mr Quilp's favour. The old

  man's illness had not lasted many days when he took formal

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  possession of the premises and all upon them, in virtue of certain

  legal powers to that effect, which few understood and none presumed

  to call in question. This important step secured, with the

  assistance of a man of law whom he brought with him for the

  purpose, the dwarf proceeded to establish himself and his coadjutor