The Old Curiosity Shop

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by Dickens, Charles


  introduce Mr Abel Garland, sir--his young master; my articled

  pupil, sir, and most particular friend:--my most particular

  friend, sir,' repeated the Notary, drawing out his silk

  handkerchief and flourishing it about his face.

  'Your servant, sir,' said the stranger gentleman.

  'Yours, sir, I'm sure,' replied Mr Abel mildly. 'You were wishing

  to speak to Christopher, sir?'

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  'Yes, I was. Have I your permission?'

  'By all means.'

  'My business is no secret; or I should rather say it need be no

  secret here,' said the stranger, observing that Mr Abel and the

  Notary were preparing to retire. 'It relates to a dealer in

  curiosities with whom he lived, and in whom I am earnestly and

  warmly interested. I have been a stranger to this country,

  gentlemen, for very many years, and if I am deficient in form and

  ceremony, I hope you will forgive me.'

  'No forgiveness is necessary, sir;--none whatever,' replied the

  Notary. And so said Mr Abel.

  'I have been making inquiries in the neighbourhood in which his old

  master lived,' said the stranger, 'and I learn that he was served

  by this lad. I have found out his mother's house, and have been

  directed by her to this place as the nearest in which I should be

  likely to find him. That's the cause of my presenting myself here

  this morning.'

  'I am very glad of any cause, sir,' said the Notary, 'which

  procures me the honour of this visit.'

  'Sir,' retorted the stranger, 'you speak like a mere man of the

  world, and I think you something better. Therefore, pray do not

  sink your real character in paying unmeaning compliments to me.'

  'Hem!' coughed the Notary. 'You're a plain speaker, sir.'

  'And a plain dealer,' returned the stranger. 'It may be my long

  absence and inexperience that lead me to the conclusion; but if

  plain speakers are scarce in this part of the world, I fancy plain

  dealers are still scarcer. If my speaking should offend you, sir,

  my dealing, I hope, will make amends.'

  Mr Witherden seemed a little disconcerted by the elderly

  gentleman's mode of conducting the dialogue; and as for Kit, he

  looked at him in open-mouthed astonishment: wondering what kind of

  language he would address to him, if he talked in that free and

  easy way to a Notary. It was with no harshness, however, though

  with something of constitutional irritability and haste, that he

  turned to Kit and said:

  'If you think, my lad, that I am pursuing these inquiries with any

  other view than that of serving and reclaiming those I am in search

  of, you do me a very great wrong, and deceive yourself. Don't be

  deceived, I beg of you, but rely upon my assurance. The fact is,

  gentlemen,' he added, turning again to the Notary and his pupil,

  'that I am in a very painful and wholly unexpected position. I

  came to this city with a darling object at my heart, expecting to

  find no obstacle or difficulty in the way of its attainment. I

  find myself suddenly checked and stopped short, in the execution of

  my design, by a mystery which I cannot penetrate. Every effort I

  have made to penetrate it, has only served to render it darker and

  more obscure; and I am afraid to stir openly in the matter, lest

  those whom I anxiously pursue, should fly still farther from me.

  I assure you that if you could give me any assistance, you would

  not be sorry to do so, if you knew how greatly I stand in need of

  it, and what a load it would relieve me from.'

  There was a simplicity in this confidence which occasioned it to

  find a quick response in the breast of the good-natured Notary, who

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  replied, in the same spirit, that the stranger had not mistaken his

  desire, and that if he could be of service to him, he would, most

  readily.

  Kit was then put under examination and closely questioned by the

  unknown gentleman, touching his old master and the child, their

  lonely way of life, their retired habits, and strict seclusion.

  The nightly absence of the old man, the solitary existence of the

  child at those times, his illness and recovery, Quilp's possession

  of the house, and their sudden disappearance, were all the subjects

  of much questioning and answer. Finally, Kit informed the

  gentleman that the premises were now to let, and that a board upon

  the door referred all inquirers to Mr Sampson Brass, Solicitor, of

  Bevis Marks, from whom he might perhaps learn some further

  particulars.

  'Not by inquiry,' said the gentleman shaking his head. 'I live

  there.'

  'Live at Brass's the attorney's!' cried Mr Witherden in some

  surprise: having professional knowledge of the gentleman in

  question.

  'Aye,' was the reply. 'I entered on his lodgings t'other day,

  chiefly because I had seen this very board. it matters little to

  me where I live, and I had a desperate hope that some intelligence

  might be cast in my way there, which would not reach me elsewhere.

  Yes, I live at Brass's--more shame for me, I suppose?'

  'That's a mere matter of opinion,' said the Notary, shrugging his

  shoulders. 'He is looked upon as rather a doubtful character.'

  'Doubtful?' echoed the other. 'I am glad to hear there's any doubt

  about it. I supposed that had been thoroughly settled, long ago.

  But will you let me speak a word or two with you in private?'

  Mr Witherden consenting, they walked into that gentleman's private

  closet, and remained there, in close conversation, for some quarter

  of an hour, when they returned into the outer office. The stranger

  had left his hat in Mr Witherden's room, and seemed to have

  established himself in this short interval on quite a friendly

  footing.

  'I'll not detain you any longer now,' he said, putting a crown into

  Kit's hand, and looking towards the Notary. 'You shall hear from

  me again. Not a word of this, you know, except to your master and

  mistress.'

  'Mother, sir, would be glad to know--' said Kit, faltering.

  'Glad to know what?'

  'Anything--so that it was no harm--about Miss Nell.'

  'Would she? Well then, you may tell her if she can keep a secret.

  But mind, not a word of this to anybody else. Don't forget that.

  Be particular.'

  'I'll take care, sir,' said Kit. 'Thankee, sir, and good morning.'

  Now, it happened that the gentleman, in his anxiety to impress upon

  Kit that he was not to tell anybody what had passed between them,

  followed him out to the door to repeat his caution, and it further

  happened that at that moment the eyes of Mr Richard Swiveller were

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  turned in that direction, and beheld his mysterious friend and Kit

  together.

  It was quite an accident, and the way in which it came about was

  this. Mr Chuckster, being a gentleman of a cultivated taste and

  refined spirit, was one of that Lodge of
Glorious Apollos whereof

  Mr Swiveller was Perpetual Grand. Mr Swiveller, passing through

  the street in the execution of some Brazen errand, and beholding

  one of his Glorious Brotherhood intently gazing on a pony, crossed

  over to give him that fraternal greeting with which Perpetual

  Grands are, by the very constitution of their office, bound to

  cheer and encourage their disciples. He had scarcely bestowed upon

  him his blessing, and followed it with a general remark touching

  the present state and prospects of the weather, when, lifting up

  his eyes, he beheld the single gentleman of Bevis Marks in earnest

  conversation with Christopher Nubbles.

  'Hallo!' said Dick, 'who is that?'

  'He called to see my Governor this morning,' replied Mr Chuckster;

  'beyond that, I don't know him from Adam.'

  'At least you know his name?' said Dick.

  To which Mr Chuckster replied, with an elevation of speech becoming

  a Glorious Apollo, that he was 'everlastingly blessed' if he did.

  'All I know, my dear feller,' said Mr Chuckster, running his

  fingers through his hair, 'is, that he is the cause of my having

  stood here twenty minutes, for which I hate him with a mortal and

  undying hatred, and would pursue him to the confines of eternity if

  I could afford the time.'

  While they were thus discoursing, the subject of their conversation

  (who had not appeared to recognise Mr Richard Swiveller) re-entered

  the house, and Kit came down the steps and joined them; to whom Mr

  Swiveller again propounded his inquiry with no better success.

  'He is a very nice gentleman, Sir,' said Kit, 'and that's all I

  know about him.'

  Mr Chuckster waxed wroth at this answer, and without applying the

  remark to any particular case, mentioned, as a general truth, that

  it was expedient to break the heads of Snobs, and to tweak their

  noses. Without expressing his concurrence in this sentiment, Mr

  Swiveller after a few moments of abstraction inquired which way Kit

  was driving, and, being informed, declared it was his way, and that

  he would trespass on him for a lift. Kit would gladly have

  declined the proffered honour, but as Mr Swiveller was already

  established in the seat beside him, he had no means of doing so,

  otherwise than by a forcible ejectment, and therefore, drove

  briskly off--so briskly indeed, as to cut short the leave-taking

  between Mr Chuckster and his Grand Master, and to occasion the

  former gentleman some inconvenience from having his corns squeezed

  by the impatient pony.

  As Whisker was tired of standing, and Mr Swiveller was kind enough

  to stimulate him by shrill whistles, and various sporting cries,

  they rattled off at too sharp a pace to admit of much conversation:

  especially as the pony, incensed by Mr Swiveller's admonitions,

  took a particular fancy for the lamp-posts and cart-wheels, and

  evinced a strong desire to run on the pavement and rasp himself

  against the brick walls. It was not, therefore, until they had

  arrived at the stable, and the chaise had been extricated from a

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  very small doorway, into which the pony dragged it under the

  impression that he could take it along with him into his usual

  stall, that Mr Swiveller found time to talk.

  'It's hard work,' said Richard. 'What do you say to some beer?'

  Kit at first declined, but presently consented, and they adjourned

  to the neighbouring bar together.

  'We'll drink our friend what's-his-name,' said Dick, holding up the

  bright frothy pot; '--that was talking to you this morning, you

  know--I know him--a good fellow, but eccentric--very--here's

  what's-his-name!'

  Kit pledged him.

  'He lives in my house,' said Dick; 'at least in the house occupied

  by the firm in which I'm a sort of a--of a managing partner--a

  difficult fellow to get anything out of, but we like him--we like

  him.'

  'I must be going, sir, if you please,' said Kit, moving away.

  'Don't be in a hurry, Christopher,' replied his patron, 'we'll

  drink your mother.'

  'Thank you, sir.'

  'An excellent woman that mother of yours, Christopher,' said Mr

  Swiveller. 'Who ran to catch me when I fell, and kissed the place

  to make it well? My mother. A charming woman. He's a liberal

  sort of fellow. We must get him to do something for your mother.

  Does he know her, Christopher?'

  Kit shook his head, and glancing slyly at his questioner, thanked

  him, and made off before he could say another word.

  'Humph!' said Mr Swiveller pondering, 'this is queer. Nothing but

  mysteries in connection with Brass's house. I'll keep my own

  counsel, however. Everybody and anybody has been in my confidence

  as yet, but now I think I'll set up in business for myself. Queer--

  very queer!'

  After pondering deeply and with a face of exceeding wisdom for some

  time, Mr Swiveller drank some more of the beer, and summoning a

  small boy who had been watching his proceedings, poured forth the

  few remaining drops as a libation on the gravel, and bade him carry

  the empty vessel to the bar with his compliments, and above all

  things to lead a sober and temperate life, and abstain from all

  intoxicating and exciting liquors. Having given him this piece of

  moral advice for his trouble (which, as he wisely observed, was far

  better than half-pence) the Perpetual Grand Master of the Glorious

  Apollos thrust his hands into his pockets and sauntered away: still

  pondering as he went.

  CHAPTER 39

  All that day, though he waited for Mr Abel until evening, Kit kept

  clear of his mother's house, determined not to anticipate the

  pleasures of the morrow, but to let them come in their full rush of

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  delight; for to-morrow was the great and long looked-for epoch in

  his life--to-morrow was the end of his first quarter--the day of

  receiving, for the first time, one fourth part of his annual income

  of Six Pounds in one vast sum of Thirty Shillings--to-morrow was

  to be a half-holiday devoted to a whirl of entertainments, and

  little Jacob was to know what oysters meant, and to see a play.

  All manner of incidents combined in favour of the occasion: not

  only had Mr and Mrs Garland forewarned him that they intended to

  make no deduction for his outfit from the great amount, but to pay

  it him unbroken in all its gigantic grandeur; not only had the

  unknown gentleman increased the stock by the sum of five shillings,

  which was a perfect god-send and in itself a fortune; not only had

  these things come to pass which nobody could have calculated upon,

  or in their wildest dreams have hoped; but it was Barbara's quarter

  too--Barbara's quarter, that very day--and Barbara had a

  half-holiday as well as Kit, and Barbara's mother was going to make

  one of the party, and to take tea with Kit's mother, and cultivate

  her acquaintance.

  To be sure Kit looked out of his window
very early that morning to

  see which way the clouds were flying, and to be sure Barbara would

  have been at hers too, if she had not sat up so late over-night,

  starching and ironing small pieces of muslin, and crimping them

  into frills, and sewing them on to other pieces to form magnificent

  wholes for next day's wear. But they were both up very early for

  all that, and had small appetites for breakfast and less for

  dinner, and were in a state of great excitement when Barbara's

  mother came in, with astonishing accounts of the fineness of the

  weather out of doors (but with a very large umbrella

  notwithstanding, for people like Barbara's mother seldom make

  holiday without one), and when the bell rang for them to go up

  stairs and receive their quarter's money in gold and silver.

  Well, wasn't Mr Garland kind when he said 'Christopher, here's your

  money, and you have earned it well;' and wasn't Mrs Garland kind

  when she said 'Barbara, here's yours, and I'm much pleased with

  you;' and didn't Kit sign his name bold to his receipt, and didn't

  Barbara sign her name all a trembling to hers; and wasn't it

  beautiful to see how Mrs Garland poured out Barbara's mother a

  glass of wine; and didn't Barbara's mother speak up when she said

  'Here's blessing you, ma'am, as a good lady, and you, sir, as a

  good gentleman, and Barbara, my love to you, and here's towards

  you, Mr Christopher;' and wasn't she as long drinking it as if it

  had been a tumblerful; and didn't she look genteel, standing there

  with her gloves on; and wasn't there plenty of laughing and talking

  among them as they reviewed all these things upon the top of the

  coach, and didn't they pity the people who hadn't got a holiday!

  But Kit's mother, again--wouldn't anybody have supposed she had

  come of a good stock and been a lady all her life! There she was,

  quite ready to receive them, with a display of tea-things that

  might have warmed the heart of a china-shop; and little Jacob and

  the baby in such a state of perfection that their clothes looked as

  good as new, though Heaven knows they were old enough! Didn't she

  say before they had sat down five minutes that Barbara's mother was

  exactly the sort of lady she expected, and didn't Barbara's mother

  say that Kit's mother was the very picture of what she had

  expected, and didn't Kit's mother compliment Barbara's mother on

  Barbara, and didn't Barbara's mother compliment Kit's mother on

 

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