The Old Curiosity Shop

by Dickens, Charles

  Sally--Mr Richard, sir--this is a particularly distressing

  affair!'

  As Sampson spoke, he laid the bank-note upon the desk among some

  papers, in an absent manner, and thrust his hands into his pockets.

  Richard Swiveller pointed to it, and admonished him to take it up.

  'No, Mr Richard, sir,' rejoined Brass with emotion, 'I will not

  take it up. I will let it lie there, sir. To take it up, Mr

  Richard, sir, would imply a doubt of you; and in you, sir, I have

  unlimited confidence. We will let it lie there, Sir, if you

  please, and we will not take it up by any means.' With that, Mr

  Brass patted him twice or thrice on the shoulder, in a most

  friendly manner, and entreated him to believe that he had as much

  faith in his honesty as he had in his own.

  Although at another time Mr Swiveller might have looked upon this

  as a doubtful compliment, he felt it, under the then- existing

  circumstances, a great relief to be assured that he was not

  wrongfully suspected. When he had made a suitable reply, Mr Brass

  wrung him by the hand, and fell into a brown study, as did Miss

  Sally likewise. Richard too remained in a thoughtful state;

  fearing every moment to hear the Marchioness impeached, and unable

  to resist the conviction that she must be guilty.

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  When they had severally remained in this condition for some

  minutes, Miss Sally all at once gave a loud rap upon the desk with

  her clenched fist, and cried, 'I've hit it!'--as indeed she had,

  and chipped a piece out of it too; but that was not her meaning.

  'Well,' cried Brass anxiously. 'Go on, will you!'

  'Why,' replied his sister with an air of triumph, 'hasn't there

  been somebody always coming in and out of this office for the last

  three or four weeks; hasn't that somebody been left alone in it

  sometimes--thanks to you; and do you mean to tell me that that

  somebody isn't the thief!'

  'What somebody?' blustered Brass.

  'Why, what do you call him--Kit.'

  'Mr Garland's young man?'

  'To be sure.'

  'Never!' cried Brass. 'Never. I'll not hear of it. Don't tell

  me'-- said Sampson, shaking his head, and working with both his

  hands as if he were clearing away ten thousand cobwebs. 'I'll

  never believe it of him. Never!'

  'I say,' repeated Miss Brass, taking another pinch of snuff, 'that

  he's the thief.'

  'I say,' returned Sampson violently, 'that he is not. What do you

  mean? How dare you? Are characters to be whispered away like

  this? Do you know that he's the honestest and faithfullest fellow

  that ever lived, and that he has an irreproachable good name? Come

  in, come in!'

  These last words were not addressed to Miss Sally, though they

  partook of the tone in which the indignant remonstrances that

  preceded them had been uttered. They were addressed to some person

  who had knocked at the office-door; and they had hardly passed the

  lips of Mr Brass, when this very Kit himself looked in.

  'Is the gentleman up-stairs, sir, if you please?'

  'Yes, Kit,' said Brass, still fired with an honest indignation, and

  frowning with knotted brows upon his sister; 'Yes Kit, he is. I am

  glad to see you Kit, I am rejoiced to see you. Look in again, as

  you come down-stairs, Kit. That lad a robber!' cried Brass when he

  had withdrawn, 'with that frank and open countenance! I'd trust

  him with untold gold. Mr Richard, sir, have the goodness to step

  directly to Wrasp and Co.'s in Broad Street, and inquire if they

  have had instructions to appear in Carkem and Painter. THAT lad a

  robber,' sneered Sampson, flushed and heated with his wrath. 'Am

  I blind, deaf, silly; do I know nothing of human nature when I see

  it before me? Kit a robber! Bah!'

  Flinging this final interjection at Miss Sally with immeasurable

  scorn and contempt, Sampson Brass thrust his head into his desk, as

  if to shut the base world from his view, and breathed defiance from

  under its half-closed lid.

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  CHAPTER 59

  When Kit, having discharged his errand, came down-stairs from the

  single gentleman's apartment after the lapse of a quarter of an

  hour or so, Mr Sampson Brass was alone in the office. He was not

  singing as usual, nor was he seated at his desk. The open door

  showed him standing before the fire with his back towards it, and

  looking so very strange that Kit supposed he must have been

  suddenly taken ill.

  'Is anything the matter, sir?' said Kit.

  'Matter!' cried Brass. 'No. Why anything the matter?'

  'You are so very pale,' said Kit, 'that I should hardly have known

  you.'

  'Pooh pooh! mere fancy,' cried Brass, stooping to throw up the

  cinders. 'Never better, Kit, never better in all my life. Merry

  too. Ha ha! How's our friend above-stairs, eh?'

  'A great deal better,' said Kit.

  'I'm glad to hear it,' rejoined Brass; 'thankful, I may say. An

  excellent gentleman--worthy, liberal, generous, gives very little

  trouble--an admirable lodger. Ha ha! Mr Garland--he's well I

  hope, Kit--and the pony--my friend, my particular friend you

  know. Ha ha!'

  Kit gave a satisfactory account of all the little household at Abel

  Cottage. Mr Brass, who seemed remarkably inattentive and

  impatient, mounted on his stool, and beckoning him to come nearer,

  took him by the button-hole.

  'I have been thinking, Kit,' said the lawyer, 'that I could throw

  some little emoluments in your mother's way--You have a mother, I

  think? If I recollect right, you told me--'

  'Oh yes, Sir, yes certainly.'

  'A widow, I think? an industrious widow?'

  'A harder-working woman or a better mother never lived, Sir.'

  'Ah!' cried Brass. 'That's affecting, truly affecting. A poor

  widow struggling to maintain her orphans in decency and comfort, is

  a delicious picture of human goodness.--Put down your hat, Kit.'

  'Thank you Sir, I must be going directly.'

  'Put it down while you stay, at any rate,' said Brass, taking it

  from him and making some confusion among the papers, in finding a

  place for it on the desk. 'I was thinking, Kit, that we have often

  houses to let for people we are concerned for, and matters of that

  sort. Now you know we're obliged to put people into those houses

  to take care of 'em--very often undeserving people that we can't

  depend upon. What's to prevent our having a person that we CAN

  depend upon, and enjoying the delight of doing a good action at the

  same time? I say, what's to prevent our employing this worthy

  woman, your mother? What with one job and another, there's lodging--

  and good lodging too--pretty well all the year round, rent free,

  and a weekly allowance besides, Kit, that would provide her with a

  great many comforts she don't at present enjoy. Now what do you

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  think of that? Do you see any objecti
on? My only desire is to serve

  you, Kit; therefore if you do, say so freely.'

  As Brass spoke, he moved the hat twice or thrice, and shuffled

  among the papers again, as if in search of something.

  'How can I see any objection to such a kind offer, sir?' replied

  Kit with his whole heart. 'I don't know how to thank you sir, I

  don't indeed.'

  'Why then,' said Brass, suddenly turning upon him and thrusting his

  face close to Kit's with such a repulsive smile that the latter,

  even in the very height of his gratitude, drew back, quite

  startled. 'Why then, it's done.'

  Kit looked at him in some confusion.

  'Done, I say,' added Sampson, rubbing his hands and veiling himself

  again in his usual oily manner. 'Ha ha! and so you shall find Kit,

  so you shall find. But dear me,' said Brass, 'what a time Mr

  Richard is gone! A sad loiterer to be sure! Will you mind the

  office one minute, while I run up-stairs? Only one minute. I'll

  not detain you an instant longer, on any account, Kit.'

  Talking as he went, Mr Brass bustled out of the office, and in a

  very short time returned. Mr Swiveller came back, almost at the

  same instant; and as Kit was leaving the room hastily, to make up

  for lost time, Miss Brass herself encountered him in the doorway.

  'Oh!' sneered Sally, looking after him as she entered. 'There goes

  your pet, Sammy, eh?'

  'Ah! There he goes,' replied Brass. 'My pet, if you please. An

  honest fellow, Mr Richard, sir--a worthy fellow indeed!'

  'Hem!' coughed Miss Brass.

  'I tell you, you aggravating vagabond,' said the angry Sampson,

  'that I'd stake my life upon his honesty. Am I never to hear the

  last of this? Am I always to be baited, and beset, by your mean

  suspicions? Have you no regard for true merit, you malignant

  fellow? If you come to that, I'd sooner suspect your honesty than

  his.'

  Miss Sally pulled out the tin snuff-box, and took a long, slow

  pinch, regarding her brother with a steady gaze all the time.

  'She drives me wild, Mr Richard, sir,' said Brass, 'she exasperates

  me beyond all bearing. I am heated and excited, sir, I know I am.

  These are not business manners, sir, nor business looks, but she

  carries me out of myself.'

  'Why don't you leave him alone?' said Dick.

  'Because she can't, sir,' retorted Brass; 'because to chafe and vex

  me is a part of her nature, Sir, and she will and must do it, or I

  don't believe she'd have her health. But never mind,' said Brass,

  'never mind. I've carried my point. I've shown my confidence in

  the lad. He has minded the office again. Ha ha! Ugh, you viper!'

  The beautiful virgin took another pinch, and put the snuff-box in

  her pocket; still looking at her brother with perfect composure.

  'He has minded the office again,' said Brass triumphantly; 'he has

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  had my confidence, and he shall continue to have it; he--why,

  where's the--'

  'What have you lost?' inquired Mr Swiveller.

  'Dear me!' said Brass, slapping all his pockets, one after another,

  and looking into his desk, and under it, and upon it, and wildly

  tossing the papers about, 'the note, Mr Richard, sir, the

  five-pound note--what can have become of it? I laid it down here--

  God bless me!'

  'What!' cried Miss Sally, starting up, clapping her hands, and

  scattering the papers on the floor. 'Gone! Now who's right? Now

  who's got it? Never mind five pounds--what's five pounds? He's

  honest, you know, quite honest. It would be mean to suspect him.

  Don't run after him. No, no, not for the world!'

  'Is it really gone though?' said Dick, looking at Brass with a face

  as pale as his own.

  'Upon my word, Mr Richard, Sir,' replied the lawyer, feeling in all

  his pockets with looks of the greatest agitation, 'I fear this is

  a black business. It's certainly gone, Sir. What's to be done?'

  'Don't run after him,' said Miss Sally, taking more snuff. 'Don't

  run after him on any account. Give him time to get rid of it, you

  know. It would be cruel to find him out!'

  Mr Swiveller and Sampson Brass looked from Miss Sally to each

  other, in a state of bewilderment, and then, as by one impulse,

  caught up their hats and rushed out into the street--darting along

  in the middle of the road, and dashing aside all obstructions, as

  though they were running for their lives.

  It happened that Kit had been running too, though not so fast, and

  having the start of them by some few minutes, was a good distance

  ahead. As they were pretty certain of the road he must have taken,

  however, and kept on at a great pace, they came up with him, at the

  very moment when he had taken breath, and was breaking into a run

  again.

  'Stop!' cried Sampson, laying his hand on one shoulder, while Mr

  Swiveller pounced upon the other. 'Not so fast sir. You're in a

  hurry?'

  'Yes, I am,' said Kit, looking from one to the other in great

  surprise.

  'I--I--can hardly believe it,' panted Sampson, 'but something of

  value is missing from the office. I hope you don't know what.'

  'Know what! good Heaven, Mr Brass!' cried Kit, trembling from head

  to foot; 'you don't suppose--'

  'No, no,' rejoined Brass quickly, 'I don't suppose anything. Don't

  say I said you did. You'll come back quietly, I hope?'

  'Of course I will,' returned Kit. 'Why not?'

  'To be sure!' said Brass. 'Why not? I hope there may turn out to

  be no why not. If you knew the trouble I've been in, this morning,

  through taking your part, Christopher, you'd be sorry for it.'

  'And I am sure you'll be sorry for having suspected me sir,'

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  replied Kit. 'Come. Let us make haste back.'

  'Certainly!' cried Brass, 'the quicker, the better. Mr Richard--

  have the goodness, sir, to take that arm. I'll take this one.

  It's not easy walking three abreast, but under these circumstances

  it must be done, sir; there's no help for it.'

  Kit did turn from white to red, and from red to white again, when

  they secured him thus, and for a moment seemed disposed to resist.

  But, quickly recollecting himself, and remembering that if he made

  any struggle, he would perhaps be dragged by the collar through the

  public streets, he only repeated, with great earnestness and with

  the tears standing in his eyes, that they would be sorry for this--

  and suffered them to lead him off. While they were on the way

  back, Mr Swiveller, upon whom his present functions sat very

  irksomely, took an opportunity of whispering in his ear that if he

  would confess his guilt, even by so much as a nod, and promise not

  to do so any more, he would connive at his kicking Sampson Brass on

  the shins and escaping up a court; but Kit indignantly rejecting

  this proposal, Mr Richard had nothing for it, but to hold him tight

  until they reached Bevis Marks, and ushered him into the presence

  of the charming Sarah, who immediately to
ok the precaution of

  locking the door.

  'Now, you know,' said Brass, 'if this is a case of innocence, it is

  a case of that description, Christopher, where the fullest

  disclosure is the best satisfaction for everybody. Therefore if

  you'll consent to an examination,' he demonstrated what kind of

  examination he meant by turning back the cuffs of his coat, 'it

  will be a comfortable and pleasant thing for all parties.'

  'Search me,' said Kit, proudly holding up his arms. 'But mind, sir--

  I know you'll be sorry for this, to the last day of your life.'

  'It is certainly a very painful occurrence,' said Brass with a

  sigh, as he dived into one of Kit's pockets, and fished up a

  miscellaneous collection of small articles; 'very painful. Nothing

  here, Mr Richard, Sir, all perfectly satisfactory. Nor here, sir.

  Nor in the waistcoat, Mr Richard, nor in the coat tails. So far,

  I am rejoiced, I am sure.'

  Richard Swiveller, holding Kit's hat in his hand, was watching the

  proceedings with great interest, and bore upon his face the

  slightest possible indication of a smile, as Brass, shutting one of

  his eyes, looked with the other up the inside of one of the poor

  fellow's sleeves as if it were a telescope--when Sampson turning

  hastily to him, bade him search the hat.

  'Here's a handkerchief,' said Dick.

  'No harm in that sir,' rejoined Brass, applying his eye to the

  other sleeve, and speaking in the voice of one who was

  contemplating an immense extent of prospect. 'No harm in a

  handkerchief Sir, whatever. The faculty don't consider it a

  healthy custom, I believe, Mr Richard, to carry one's handkerchief

  in one's hat--I have heard that it keeps the head too warm--but

  in every other point of view, its being there, is extremely

  satisfactory--extremely so.'

  An exclamation, at once from Richard Swiveller, Miss Sally, and Kit

  himself, cut the lawyer short. He turned his head, and saw Dick

  standing with the bank-note in his hand.

  'In the hat?' cried Brass in a sort of shriek.

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  'Under the handkerchief, and tucked beneath the lining,' said Dick,

  aghast at the discovery.

  Mr Brass looked at him, at his sister, at the walls, at the

  ceiling, at the floor--everywhere but at Kit, who stood quite

  stupefied and motionless.

  'And this,' cried Sampson, clasping his hands, 'is the world that