*I. IN THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP*
It was a queer home for a child--this place where Little Nell lived withher grandfather. He was a dealer in all sorts of curious old things:suits of mail which stood like ghosts in armor here and there; fantasticcarved tables and chairs; rusty weapons of various kinds; distortedfigures in china and wood and iron. And, amid it all, the oldest thingin the shop seemed to be the little old man with the long gray hair.
The only bit of youth was Nell herself; and yet she had a strangeintermingling of dignity and responsibility, in spite of her smallfigure and childish ways. Her fourteen years of life had left herundecided between childhood and girlhood. She had not begun to grow up;and yet she was an orphan, accustomed to doing everything for herself.
Her grandfather tried in his way to take care of her, for he loved herdearly. But between the tending of his shop and the mysterious journeyswhich he made night after night, the child was often sent upon strangeerrands or left alone in the old house. And at all times it was she whotook care of him. But the old man did not see that this lonely life wasputting lines of sorrow into her face. To him she was still the childof yesterday, care-free and happy.
She had been happy once. She had gone singing through the dim rooms,and moving with gay step among their dusty treasures, making them olderby her young life, and sterner and more grim by her cheerful presence.But now the chambers were cold and gloomy, and when she left her ownlittle room to while away the tedious hours, and sat in one of them, shewas still and motionless as their inanimate occupants, and had no heartto startle the echoes--hoarse from their long silence--with her voice.
In one of these rooms was a window looking into the street, where thechild sat, many and many a long evening, and often far into the night,alone and thoughtful. None are so anxious as those who watch and wait;and at these times mournful fancies came flocking on her mind in crowds.
She knew instinctively that her grandfather was hiding something fromher. What it was she could not guess; but these regular journeys atnight, while she watched and waited, left him only the more fretful andcareworn. He seemed to have a constant fever for something; yet all hewould say was that he would some day leave her a fortune. Meanwhile hehad fallen into the clutches of Quilp a terrible dwarf, who had lent himmoney from time to time, until the entire contents of the shop weremortgaged. So it is not strange that Little Nell should have mournfulthoughts.
When the night had worn away, the child would close the window and evensmile, with the first dawn of light, at her night-time fears. Then afterpraying earnestly for her grandfather and the restoring of their formerhappy days, she would unlatch the door for him and fall into a troubledsleep.
One night the old man said that he would not leave home. The child'sface lit up at the news, but became grave again when she saw how worriedhe looked.
"You took my note safely to Mr. Quilp, you say?" he asked fretfully."What did he tell you, Nell?"
"Exactly what I told you, dear grandfather, indeed."
"True," said the old man, faintly. "Yes. But tell me again, Nell. Myhead fails me. What was it that he told you? Nothing more than that hewould see me to-morrow or next day? That was in the note."
"Nothing more," said the child. "Shall I go to him again to-morrow,dear grandfather? Very early? I will be there and back beforebreakfast."
The old man shook his head and, sighing mournfully, drew her towardshim.
"'T would be no use, my dear, no earthly use. But if he deserts me,Nell, at this moment--if he deserts me now, when I should, with hisassistance, be recompensed for all the time and money I have lost andall the agony of mind I have undergone, which makes me what you see, Iam ruined and worse,--far worse than that--I have ruined you, for whom Iventured all. If we are beggars--!"
"What if we are?" said the child, boldly. "Let us be beggars and behappy."
"Beggars--and happy!" said the old man. "Poor child!"
"Dear grandfather," cried the girl with an energy which shone in herflushed face, trembling voice, and impassioned gesture, "I am not achild in that I think, but even if I am, oh, hear me pray that we maybeg, or work in open roads or fields, to earn a scanty living, ratherthan live as we do now."
"Nelly!" said the old man.
"Yes, yes, rather than live as we do now," the child repeated moreearnestly than before. "If you are sorrowful, let me know why and besorrowful too; if you waste away and are paler and weaker every day, letme be your nurse and try to comfort you. If you are poor, let us bepoor together; but let me be with you, do let me be with you; do not letme see such change and not know why, or I shall break my heart."
The child's voice was lost in sobs, as she clasped her arms about theold man's neck; nor did she weep alone.
These were not words for other ears, nor was it a scene for other eyes.And yet other ears and eyes were there and greedily taking in all thatpassed, and moreover they were the ears and eyes of no less a personthan Mr. Daniel Quilp, who, having entered unseen when the child firstplaced herself at the old man's side, stood looking on with hisaccustomed grin. Standing, however, being tiresome, and the dwarf beingone of that kind of persons who usually make themselves at home, he sooncast his eyes upon a chair, into which he skipped with uncommon agility,and perching himself on the back with his feet upon the seat, was thusenabled to look on and listen with greater comfort to himself, besidesgratifying at the same time that taste for doing something fantastic andmonkey-like, which on all occasions had strong possession of him. Here,then, he sat, one leg cocked carelessly over the other, his chin restingon the palm of his hand, his head turned a little on one side, and hisugly features twisted into a complacent grimace. And in this positionthe old man, happening in course of time to look that way, chanced tosee him.
The child uttered a suppressed shriek on beholding this figure; in theirfirst surprise both she and the old man, not knowing what to say, andhalf doubting its reality, looked shrinkingly at it. Not at alldisconcerted by this reception, Daniel Quilp preserved the sameattitude, merely nodding twice or thrice with great condescension. Atlength, the old man pronounced his name and inquired how he came there.
"Through the door," said Quilp, pointing over his shoulder with histhumb. "I'm not quite small enough to get through keyholes. I wish Iwas. I want to have some talk with you, particularly, and inprivate--with nobody present, neighbor. Good-bye, little Nelly."
Nell looked at the old man, who nodded to her to retire, and kissed hercheek.
The dwarf said never a word, but watched his companion as he pacedrestlessly up and down the room, and presently returned to his seat.Here he remained, with his head bowed upon his breast for some time, andthen suddenly raising it, said,
"Once, and once for all, have you brought me any money?"
"No!" returned Quilp.
"Then," said the old man, clenching his hands desperately and lookingupward, "the child and I are lost!"
"Neighbor," said Quilp, glancing sternly at him, and beating his handtwice or thrice upon the table to attract his wandering attention, "letme be plain with you, and play a fairer game than when you held all thecards, and I saw but the backs and nothing more. You have no secretfrom me, now."
The old man looked up, trembling.
"You are surprised," said Quilp. "Well, perhaps that's natural. Youhave no secret from me now, I say; no, not one. For now I know that allthose sums of money, that all those loans, advances, and supplies thatyou have had from me, have found their way to--shall I say the word?"
"Aye!" replied the old man, "say it if you will."
"To the gaming-table," rejoined Quilp, "your nightly haunt. This wasthe precious scheme to make your fortune, was it; this was the secretcertain source of wealth in which I was to have sunk my money (if I hadbeen the fool you took me for); this was your inexhaustible mine ofgold, your El Dorado, eh?"
"Yes," cried the old man, turning upon him with gleaming eyes, "it was.It is. It wi
ll be, till I die."
"That I should have been blinded," said Quilp, looking contemptuously athim, "by a mere shallow gambler!"
"I am no gambler," cried the old man, fiercely. "I call Heaven towitness that I never played for gain of mine, or love of play. It wasall for _her_--for my little Nelly! I had sworn to leave her rich!"
"When did you first begin this mad career?" asked Quilp, his tauntinginclination subdued, for a moment, by the old man's grief and wildness.
"When did I first begin?" he rejoined, passing his hand across his brow."When was it, that I first began? When should it be, but when I beganto think how little I had saved, how long a time it took to save at all,how short a time I might have, at my age, to live, and how she would beleft to the rough mercies of the world with barely enough to keep herfrom the sorrows that wait on poverty; then it was that I began to thinkabout it."
"Humph! the old story," said the dwarf. "You lost what money you hadlaid by, first, and then came to me. While I thought you were makingyour fortune (as you said you were) you were making yourself a beggar,eh? Dear me! And so it comes to pass that I hold every security youcould scrape together, and a bill of sale upon the--upon the stock andproperty. But did you never win?"
"Never!" groaned the old man. "Never won back my loss!"
"I thought," sneered the dwarf, "that if a man played long enough he wassure to win at last, or, at the worst, not to come off a loser."
"And so he is!" cried the old man, "so he is; I have felt that from thefirst, I have always known it, I've seen it, I never felt it half sostrongly as I feel it now. Quilp, I have dreamed, three nights, ofwinning the same large sum. I never could dream that dream before,though I have often tried. Do not desert me, now I have this chance! Ihave no resource but you,--give me some help, let me try this one lasthope."
The dwarf shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.
"Nay, Quilp, _good_ Quilp!" gasped the old man, extending his hands inentreaty; "let me try just this once more. I tell you it is not forme--it is for _her_! Oh, I cannot die and leave her in poverty!"
"I couldn't do it, really," said Quilp, with unusual politeness. Andgrinning and making a low bow he passed out of the door.
The dwarf was, for once, as good as his word. He not only refused tolend any more money, but he at once began to make plans for closing theshop. The old man was so broken-hearted that he fell ill of a ragingfever, and for days was delirious. Little Nell, his only nurse,gradually learned the truth about her grandfather's evening pursuit--thegaming-table--and it added all the more to her sorrow.
At last when he was well enough to go about again, the impatient dwarfwould not be put off any longer in regard to the sale. An early day wasfixed for it, and the old dealer no longer offered any objections.Instead, he sat quietly, dully in his chair, looking at a tiny patch ofgreen through his window.
To one who had been tossing on a restless bed so long, even these fewgreen leaves and this tranquil light, although it languished amongchimneys and house-tops, were pleasant things. They suggested quietplaces afar off, and rest and peace.
The child thought, more than once, that he was moved and had forborne tospeak. But now he shed tears--tears that it lightened her aching heartto see--and making as though he would fall upon his knees, he besoughther to forgive him.
"Forgive you--what?" said Nell, interposing to prevent his purpose."Oh, grandfather, what should _I_ forgive?"
"All that is past, all that has come upon you, Nell," returned the oldman.
"Do not talk so," said the child. "Pray do not. Let us speak ofsomething else."
"Yes, yes, we will," he rejoined. "And it shall be of what we talked oflong ago--many months--months is it, or weeks, or days? which is it,Nell?"
"I do not understand you," said the child.
"You said, let us be beggars and happy in the open fields," he answered."Oh, let us go away--anywhere!"
"Yes, let us go," said Nell, earnestly; "there will we find happinessand peace."
And so it was arranged. On the night before the public auction theywere to steal forth quietly, out into the wide world.
The old man had slept for some hours soundly in his bed, while she wasbusily engaged in preparing for their flight. There were a few articlesof clothing for herself to carry, and a few for him; old garments, suchas became their fallen fortunes, laid out to wear; and a staff tosupport his feeble steps, put ready for his use. But this was not allher task, for now she must visit the old rooms for the last time.
And how different the parting with them was from any she had expected,and most of all from that which she had oftenest pictured to herself!How could she ever have thought of bidding them farewell in triumph,lonely and sad though her days had been! She sat down at the windowwhere she had spent so many evenings---darker far, than this--and everythought of hope or cheerfulness that had occurred to her in that placecame vividly upon her mind, and blotted out all its dull and mournfulassociations in an instant.
Her own little room, too, where she had so often knelt down and prayedat night--prayed for the time which she hoped was dawning now--thelittle room where she had slept so peacefully, and dreamed such pleasantdreams--it was hard to leave it without one kind look or grateful tear.
But at last she was ready to go, and her grandfather was awakened. Justas the first rays of dawn were seen they stole forth noiselessly, handin hand. They dared not awaken Quilp, who was sleeping that night inthe shop to guard his prospective wealth. Out in the middle of thestreet they paused.
"Which way?" said the child.
The old man looked irresolutely and helplessly, first at her, then tothe right and left, then at her again, and shook his head. It was plainthat she was thenceforth his guide and leader. The child felt it, buthad no doubts or misgiving, and putting her hand in his led him gentlyaway.
Stories from Dickens Page 8