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Charles Dickens
Chapter 31
Charles Dickens
 
 
1       It was not difficult for me, on Peggotty's solicitation, to resolve
2  to stay where I was, until after the remains of the poor carrier
3  should have made their last journey to Blunderstone. She had long
4  ago bought, out of her own savings, a little piece of ground in our
5  old churchyard near the grave of 'her sweet girl', as she always
6  called my mother; and there they were to rest.

7       In keeping Peggotty company, and doing all I could for her (little
8  enough at the utmost), I was as grateful, I rejoice to think, as
9  even now I could wish myself to have been. But I am afraid I had
10  a supreme satisfaction, of a personal and professional nature, in
11  taking charge of Mr. Barkis's will, and expounding its contents.

12       I may claim the merit of having originated the suggestion that the
13  will should be looked for in the box. After some search, it was
14  found in the box, at the bottom of a horse's nose-bag; wherein
15  (besides hay) there was discovered an old gold watch, with chain
16  and seals, which Mr. Barkis had worn on his wedding-day, and which
17  had never been seen before or since; a silver tobacco-stopper, in
18  the form of a leg; an imitation lemon, full of minute cups and
19  saucers, which I have some idea Mr. Barkis must have purchased to
20  present to me when I was a child, and afterwards found himself
21  unable to part with; eighty-seven guineas and a half, in guineas
22  and half-guineas; two hundred and ten pounds, in perfectly clean
23  Bank notes; certain receipts for Bank of England stock; an old
24  horseshoe, a bad shilling, a piece of camphor, and an oyster-shell.
25  From the circumstance of the latter article having been much
26  polished, and displaying prismatic colours on the inside, I
27  conclude that Mr. Barkis had some general ideas about pearls, which
28  never resolved themselves into anything definite.

29       For years and years, Mr. Barkis had carried this box, on all his
30  journeys, every day. That it might the better escape notice, he
31  had invented a fiction that it belonged to 'Mr. Blackboy', and was
32  'to be left with Barkis till called for'; a fable he had
33  elaborately written on the lid, in characters now scarcely legible.

34       He had hoarded, all these years, I found, to good purpose. His
35  property in money amounted to nearly three thousand pounds. Of
36  this he bequeathed the interest of one thousand to Mr. Peggotty for
37  his life; on his decease, the principal to be equally divided
38  between Peggotty, little Emily, and me, or the survivor or
39  survivors of us, share and share alike. All the rest he died
40  possessed of, he bequeathed to Peggotty; whom he left residuary
41  legatee, and sole executrix of that his last will and testament.

42       I felt myself quite a proctor when I read this document aloud with
43  all possible ceremony, and set forth its provisions, any number of
44  times, to those whom they concerned. I began to think there was
45  more in the Commons than I had supposed. I examined the will with
46  the deepest attention, pronounced it perfectly formal in all
47  respects, made a pencil-mark or so in the margin, and thought it
48  rather extraordinary that I knew so much.

49       In this abstruse pursuit; in making an account for Peggotty, of all
50  the property into which she had come; in arranging all the affairs
51  in an orderly manner; and in being her referee and adviser on every
52  point, to our joint delight; I passed the week before the funeral.
53  I did not see little Emily in that interval, but they told me she
54  was to be quietly married in a fortnight.

55       I did not attend the funeral in character, if I may venture to say
56  so. I mean I was not dressed up in a black coat and a streamer, to
57  frighten the birds; but I walked over to Blunderstone early in the
58  morning, and was in the churchyard when it came, attended only by
59  Peggotty and her brother. The mad gentleman looked on, out of my
60  little window; Mr. Chillip's baby wagged its heavy head, and rolled
61  its goggle eyes, at the clergyman, over its nurse's shoulder; Mr.
62  Omer breathed short in the background; no one else was there; and
63  it was very quiet. We walked about the churchyard for an hour,
64  after all was over; and pulled some young leaves from the tree
65  above my mother's grave.

66       A dread falls on me here. A cloud is lowering on the distant town,
67  towards which I retraced my solitary steps. I fear to approach it.
68  I cannot bear to think of what did come, upon that memorable night;
69  of what must come again, if I go on.

70       It is no worse, because I write of it. It would be no better, if
71  I stopped my most unwilling hand. It is done. Nothing can undo
72  it; nothing can make it otherwise than as it was.

73       My old nurse was to go to London with me next day, on the business
74  of the will. Little Emily was passing that day at Mr. Omer's. We
75  were all to meet in the old boathouse that night. Ham would bring
76  Emily at the usual hour. I would walk back at my leisure. The
77  brother and sister would return as they had come, and be expecting
78  us, when the day closed in, at the fireside.

79       I parted from them at the wicket-gate, where visionary Strap had
80  rested with Roderick Random's knapsack in the days of yore; and,
81  instead of going straight back, walked a little distance on the
82  road to Lowestoft. Then I turned, and walked back towards
83  Yarmouth. I stayed to dine at a decent alehouse, some mile or two
84  from the Ferry I have mentioned before; and thus the day wore away,
85  and it was evening when I reached it. Rain was falling heavily by
86  that time, and it was a wild night; but there was a moon behind the
87  clouds, and it was not dark.

88       I was soon within sight of Mr. Peggotty's house, and of the light
89  within it shining through the window. A little floundering across
90  the sand, which was heavy, brought me to the door, and I went in.

91       It looked very comfortable indeed. Mr. Peggotty had smoked his
92  evening pipe and there were preparations for some supper by and by.
93  The fire was bright, the ashes were thrown up, the locker was ready
94  for little Emily in her old place. In her own old place sat
95  Peggotty, once more, looking (but for her dress) as if she had
96  never left it. She had fallen back, already, on the society of the
97  work-box with St. Paul's upon the lid, the yard-measure in the
98  cottage, and the bit of wax-candle; and there they all were, just
99  as if they had never been disturbed. Mrs. Gummidge appeared to be
100  fretting a little, in her old corner; and consequently looked quite
101  natural, too.

102       'You're first of the lot, Mas'r Davy!' said Mr. Peggotty with a
103  happy face. 'Doen't keep in that coat, sir, if it's wet.'

104       'Thank you, Mr. Peggotty,' said I, giving him my outer coat to hang
105  up. 'It's quite dry.'

106       'So 'tis!' said Mr. Peggotty, feeling my shoulders. 'As a chip!
107  Sit ye down, sir. It ain't o' no use saying welcome to you, but
108  you're welcome, kind and hearty.'

109       'Thank you, Mr. Peggotty, I am sure of that. Well, Peggotty!' said
110  I, giving her a kiss. 'And how are you, old woman?'

111       'Ha, ha!' laughed Mr. Peggotty, sitting down beside us, and rubbing
112  his hands in his sense of relief from recent trouble, and in the
113  genuine heartiness of his nature; 'there's not a woman in the
114  wureld, sir - as I tell her - that need to feel more easy in her
115  mind than her! She done her dooty by the departed, and the
116  departed know'd it; and the departed done what was right by her, as
117  she done what was right by the departed; - and - and - and it's all
118  right!'

119       Mrs. Gummidge groaned.

120       'Cheer up, my pritty mawther!' said Mr. Peggotty. (But he shook
121  his head aside at us, evidently sensible of the tendency of the
122  late occurrences to recall the memory of the old one.) 'Doen't be
123  down! Cheer up, for your own self, on'y a little bit, and see if
124  a good deal more doen't come nat'ral!'

125       'Not to me, Dan'l,' returned Mrs. Gummidge. 'Nothink's nat'ral to
126  me but to be lone and lorn.'

127       'No, no,' said Mr. Peggotty, soothing her sorrows.

128       'Yes, yes, Dan'l!' said Mrs. Gummidge. 'I ain't a person to live
129  with them as has had money left. Thinks go too contrary with me.
130  I had better be a riddance.'

131       'Why, how should I ever spend it without you?' said Mr. Peggotty,
132  with an air of serious remonstrance. 'What are you a talking on?
133  Doen't I want you more now, than ever I did?'

134       'I know'd I was never wanted before!' cried Mrs. Gummidge, with a
135  pitiable whimper, 'and now I'm told so! How could I expect to be
136  wanted, being so lone and lorn, and so contrary!'

137       Mr. Peggotty seemed very much shocked at himself for having made a
138  speech capable of this unfeeling construction, but was prevented
139  from replying, by Peggotty's pulling his sleeve, and shaking her
140  head. After looking at Mrs. Gummidge for some moments, in sore
141  distress of mind, he glanced at the Dutch clock, rose, snuffed the
142  candle, and put it in the window.

143       'Theer!'said Mr. Peggotty, cheerily.'Theer we are, Missis
144  Gummidge!' Mrs. Gummidge slightly groaned. 'Lighted up, accordin'
145  to custom! You're a wonderin' what that's fur, sir! Well, it's
146  fur our little Em'ly. You see, the path ain't over light or
147  cheerful arter dark; and when I'm here at the hour as she's a
148  comin' home, I puts the light in the winder. That, you see,' said
149  Mr. Peggotty, bending over me with great glee, 'meets two objects.
150  She says, says Em'ly, "Theer's home!" she says. And likewise, says
151  Em'ly, "My uncle's theer!" Fur if I ain't theer, I never have no
152  light showed.'

153       'You're a baby!' said Peggotty; very fond of him for it, if she
154  thought so.

155       'Well,' returned Mr. Peggotty, standing with his legs pretty wide
156  apart, and rubbing his hands up and down them in his comfortable
157  satisfaction, as he looked alternately at us and at the fire. 'I
158  doen't know but I am. Not, you see, to look at.'

159       'Not azackly,' observed Peggotty.

160       'No,' laughed Mr. Peggotty, 'not to look at, but to - to consider
161  on, you know. I doen't care, bless you! Now I tell you. When I
162  go a looking and looking about that theer pritty house of our
163  Em'ly's, I'm - I'm Gormed,' said Mr. Peggotty, with sudden emphasis
164  - 'theer! I can't say more - if I doen't feel as if the littlest
165  things was her, a'most. I takes 'em up and I put 'em down, and I
166  touches of 'em as delicate as if they was our Em'ly. So 'tis with
167  her little bonnets and that. I couldn't see one on 'em rough used
168  a purpose - not fur the whole wureld. There's a babby fur you, in
169  the form of a great Sea Porkypine!' said Mr. Peggotty, relieving
170  his earnestness with a roar of laughter.

171       Peggotty and I both laughed, but not so loud.

172       'It's my opinion, you see,' said Mr. Peggotty, with a delighted
173  face, after some further rubbing of his legs, 'as this is along of
174  my havin' played with her so much, and made believe as we was
175  Turks, and French, and sharks, and every wariety of forinners -
176  bless you, yes; and lions and whales, and I doen't know what all!
177  - when she warn't no higher than my knee. I've got into the way on
178  it, you know. Why, this here candle, now!' said Mr. Peggotty,
179  gleefully holding out his hand towards it, 'I know wery well that
180  arter she's married and gone, I shall put that candle theer, just
181  the same as now. I know wery well that when I'm here o' nights
182  (and where else should I live, bless your arts, whatever fortun' I
183  come into!) and she ain't here or I ain't theer, I shall put the
184  candle in the winder, and sit afore the fire, pretending I'm
185  expecting of her, like I'm a doing now. THERE'S a babby for you,'
186  said Mr. Peggotty, with another roar, 'in the form of a Sea
187  Porkypine! Why, at the present minute, when I see the candle
188  sparkle up, I says to myself, "She's a looking at it! Em'ly's a
189  coming!" THERE'S a babby for you, in the form of a Sea Porkypine!
190  Right for all that,' said Mr. Peggotty, stopping in his roar, and
191  smiting his hands together; 'fur here she is!'

192       It was only Ham. The night should have turned more wet since I
193  came in, for he had a large sou'wester hat on, slouched over his
194  face.

195       'Wheer's Em'ly?' said Mr. Peggotty.

196       Ham made a motion with his head, as if she were outside. Mr.
197  Peggotty took the light from the window, trimmed it, put it on the
198  table, and was busily stirring the fire, when Ham, who had not
199  moved, said:

200       'Mas'r Davy, will you come out a minute, and see what Em'ly and me
201  has got to show you?'

202       We went out. As I passed him at the door, I saw, to my
203  astonishment and fright, that he was deadly pale. He pushed me
204  hastily into the open air, and closed the door upon us. Only upon
205  us two.

206       'Ham! what's the matter?'

207       'Mas'r Davy! -' Oh, for his broken heart, how dreadfully he wept!

208       I was paralysed by the sight of such grief. I don't know what I
209  thought, or what I dreaded. I could only look at him.

210       'Ham! Poor good fellow! For Heaven's sake, tell me what's the
211  matter!'

212       'My love, Mas'r Davy - the pride and hope of my art - her that I'd
213  have died for, and would die for now - she's gone!'

214       'Gone!'

215       'Em'ly's run away! Oh, Mas'r Davy, think HOW she's run away, when
216  I pray my good and gracious God to kill her (her that is so dear
217  above all things) sooner than let her come to ruin and disgrace!'

218       The face he turned up to the troubled sky, the quivering of his
219  clasped hands, the agony of his figure, remain associated with the
220  lonely waste, in my remembrance, to this hour. It is always night
221  there, and he is the only object in the scene.

222       'You're a scholar,' he said, hurriedly, 'and know what's right and
223  best. What am I to say, indoors? How am I ever to break it to
224  him, Mas'r Davy?'

225       I saw the door move, and instinctively tried to hold the latch on
226  the outside, to gain a moment's time. It was too late. Mr.
227  Peggotty thrust forth his face; and never could I forget the change
228  that came upon it when he saw us, if I were to live five hundred
229  years.

230       I remember a great wail and cry, and the women hanging about him,
231  and we all standing in the room; I with a paper in my hand, which
232  Ham had given me; Mr. Peggotty, with his vest torn open, his hair
233  wild, his face and lips quite white, and blood trickling down his
234  bosom (it had sprung from his mouth, I think), looking fixedly at
235  me.

236       'Read it, sir,' he said, in a low shivering voice. 'Slow, please.
237  I doen't know as I can understand.'

238       In the midst of the silence of death, I read thus, from a blotted
239  letter:

240       '"When you, who love me so much better than I ever have deserved,
241  even when my mind was innocent, see this, I shall be far away."'

242       'I shall be fur away,' he repeated slowly. 'Stop! Em'ly fur away.
243  Well!'

244       '"When I leave my dear home - my dear home - oh, my dear home! - in
245  the morning,"'

246       the letter bore date on the previous night:

247       '"- it will be never to come back, unless he brings me back a lady.
248  This will be found at night, many hours after, instead of me. Oh,
249  if you knew how my heart is torn. If even you, that I have wronged
250  so much, that never can forgive me, could only know what I suffer!
251  I am too wicked to write about myself! Oh, take comfort in
252  thinking that I am so bad. Oh, for mercy's sake, tell uncle that
253  I never loved him half so dear as now. Oh, don't remember how
254  affectionate and kind you have all been to me - don't remember we
255  were ever to be married - but try to think as if I died when I was
256  little, and was buried somewhere. Pray Heaven that I am going away
257  from, have compassion on my uncle! Tell him that I never loved him
258  half so dear. Be his comfort. Love some good girl that will be
259  what I was once to uncle, and be true to you, and worthy of you,
260  and know no shame but me. God bless all! I'll pray for all,
261  often, on my knees. If he don't bring me back a lady, and I don't
262  pray for my own self, I'll pray for all. My parting love to uncle.
263  My last tears, and my last thanks, for uncle!"'

264       That was all.

265       He stood, long after I had ceased to read, still looking at me. At
266  length I ventured to take his hand, and to entreat him, as well as
267  I could, to endeavour to get some command of himself. He replied,
268  'I thankee, sir, I thankee!' without moving.

269       Ham spoke to him. Mr. Peggotty was so far sensible of HIS
270  affliction, that he wrung his hand; but, otherwise, he remained in
271  the same state, and no one dared to disturb him.

272       Slowly, at last, he moved his eyes from my face, as if he were
273  waking from a vision, and cast them round the room. Then he said,
274  in a low voice:

275       'Who's the man? I want to know his name.'

276       Ham glanced at me, and suddenly I felt a shock that struck me back.

277       'There's a man suspected,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'Who is it?'

278       'Mas'r Davy!' implored Ham. 'Go out a bit, and let me tell him
279  what I must. You doen't ought to hear it, sir.'

280       I felt the shock again. I sank down in a chair, and tried to utter
281  some reply; but my tongue was fettered, and my sight was weak.

282       'I want to know his name!' I heard said once more.

283       'For some time past,' Ham faltered, 'there's been a servant about
284  here, at odd times. There's been a gen'lm'n too. Both of 'em
285  belonged to one another.'

286       Mr. Peggotty stood fixed as before, but now looking at him.

287       'The servant,' pursued Ham, 'was seen along with - our poor girl -
288  last night. He's been in hiding about here, this week or over. He
289  was thought to have gone, but he was hiding. Doen't stay, Mas'r
290  Davy, doen't!'

291       I felt Peggotty's arm round my neck, but I could not have moved if
292  the house had been about to fall upon me.

293       'A strange chay and hosses was outside town, this morning, on the
294  Norwich road, a'most afore the day broke,' Ham went on. 'The
295  servant went to it, and come from it, and went to it again. When
296  he went to it again, Em'ly was nigh him. The t'other was inside.
297  He's the man.'

298       'For the Lord's love,' said Mr. Peggotty, falling back, and putting
299  out his hand, as if to keep off what he dreaded. 'Doen't tell me
300  his name's Steerforth!'

301       'Mas'r Davy,' exclaimed Ham, in a broken voice, 'it ain't no fault
302  of yourn - and I am far from laying of it to you - but his name is
303  Steerforth, and he's a damned villain!'

304       Mr. Peggotty uttered no cry, and shed no tear, and moved no more,
305  until he seemed to wake again, all at once, and pulled down his
306  rough coat from its peg in a corner.

307       'Bear a hand with this! I'm struck of a heap, and can't do it,' he
308  said, impatiently. 'Bear a hand and help me. Well!' when somebody
309  had done so. 'Now give me that theer hat!'

310       Ham asked him whither he was going.

311       'I'm a going to seek my niece. I'm a going to seek my Em'ly. I'm
312  a going, first, to stave in that theer boat, and sink it where I
313  would have drownded him, as I'm a living soul, if I had had one
314  thought of what was in him! As he sat afore me,' he said, wildly,
315  holding out his clenched right hand, 'as he sat afore me, face to
316  face, strike me down dead, but I'd have drownded him, and thought
317  it right! - I'm a going to seek my niece.'

318       'Where?' cried Ham, interposing himself before the door.

319       'Anywhere! I'm a going to seek my niece through the wureld. I'm
320  a going to find my poor niece in her shame, and bring her back. No
321  one stop me! I tell you I'm a going to seek my niece!'

322       'No, no!' cried Mrs. Gummidge, coming between them, in a fit of
323  crying. 'No, no, Dan'l, not as you are now. Seek her in a little
324  while, my lone lorn Dan'l, and that'll be but right! but not as you
325  are now. Sit ye down, and give me your forgiveness for having ever
326  been a worrit to you, Dan'l - what have my contraries ever been to
327  this! - and let us speak a word about them times when she was first
328  an orphan, and when Ham was too, and when I was a poor widder
329  woman, and you took me in. It'll soften your poor heart, Dan'l,'
330  laying her head upon his shoulder, 'and you'll bear your sorrow
331  better; for you know the promise, Dan'l, "As you have done it unto
332  one of the least of these, you have done it unto me",- and that can
333  never fail under this roof, that's been our shelter for so many,
334  many year!'

335       He was quite passive now; and when I heard him crying, the impulse
336  that had been upon me to go down upon my knees, and ask their
337  pardon for the desolation I had caused, and curse Steer- forth,
338  yielded to a better feeling, My overcharged heart found the same
339  relief, and I cried too.

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