The Old Curiosity Shop / Лавка древностей

9

Kit 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 did not go out tonight,” said Kit. With which words, he sat down by the fire and looked very mournful and discontented.

Kit’s room was an extremely poor and homely place. His mother 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, was sitting bolt upright in a clothes-basket.

“Ah mother!” said Kit, falling upon^[27] a great piece of bread and meat, “what a kind woman you are!”

“I hope there are many far better, Kit,” said Mrs. Nubbles^[28]; “Did you tell me, just now, that your master hadn’t gone out tonight?”

“Yes,” said Kit, “worse luck!”

“I wonder what Mrs. Nelly’d say, if she knew that every night, when she is sitting alone at the window, you are watching in the open street.”

“Never mind what she’d say,” replied Kit; “she’ll never know it, and consequently, she’ll never say anything.”

Mrs. Nubbles ironed away in silence for a minute or two, then she observed:

“I know what some people would say, Kit. Some people would say that you’d fallen in love with her.”

“It’s somebody crossing over here,” said Kit, “and coming very fast too, mother!”

The boy stood. The footsteps drew nearer, the door was opened with a hasty hand, and the child herself, pale and breathless, hurried into the room.

“Miss Nelly! What is the matter?” cried mother and son together.

“I must not stay a moment,” she returned, “grandfather is very ill. I found him upon the floor.”

“I’ll run for a doctor” said Kit, seizing his brimless hat. “I’ll be there directly.”

“No, no,” cried Nell, “there is one there, 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! I have nothing to do with it indeed!”

Kit looked at her with his eyes opened wide.

“Grandfather complains and raves of you,” said the child, “I don’t know what you have done, but I hope it’s nothing very bad. He cries that you’re the cause of all his misery. You must not return to us any more. I came to tell you. Oh, Kit, what have you done? You, in whom I trusted so much! You were almost the only friend I had!”

The unfortunate Kit looked at his young mistress, 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 a little more, for he was always good and kind to me. It grieves me very much to part with him like this, but there is no help^[29]. Good-night!”

The child hastened to the door, and disappeared as rapidly as she had come. Kit remained in a state of utter stupefaction^[30].

10

The old man was in a raging fever accompanied with delirium. The child was more alone than she had ever been before. The house was no longer theirs. Mr. Quilp took formal possession of the premises and all upon them. The dwarf proceeded to establish himself and his coadjutor in the house.

First, he put an effectual stop to any further business by shutting up the shop. His coadjutor, Mr. Brass^[31], was an attorney of no very good repute. He was a tall, meagre man, with a nose like a wen, a protruding forehead, retreating eyes, and hair of a deep red. He wore a long black surtout^[32] reaching nearly to his ankles, short black trousers, high shoes, and bluish-grey stockings^[33]. He had a cringing manner, but a very harsh voice.

Quilp looked at his legal adviser^[34], and being quite overjoyed, rubbed his hands with glee.

“Is it good, Brass, is it nice, is it fragrant?” said Quilp. He smoked a lot. “This is the way to keep off fever, this is the way to keep off every calamity of life!”

“Shall we stop here long, Mr. Quilp?” inquired his legal friend.

“We must stop, I suppose, till the old gentleman upstairs is dead,” returned Quilp.

“He he he!” laughed Mr. Brass, “oh! very good!”

“Smoke!” cried Quilp. “Never stop! you can talk as you smoke. Don’t lose time.”

“He he he!” cried Brass faintly. “But if he should get better, Mr. Quilp?”

“Then we shall stop till he does, and no longer,” returned the dwarf.

The sentinel at the door interposed in this place, and without taking his pipe from his lips, growled:

“Here’s the girl coming down.”

“Aha! Nelly! Oh!” said Quilp, “My dear young friend! How is he now, my lady?”

“He’s very bad,” replied the weeping child.

“What a pretty little Nell!” cried Quilp.

“Oh beautiful, sir, beautiful indeed,” said Brass. “Quite charming!”

“Has Nell come to sit upon Quilp’s knee,” said the dwarf, “or is she going to bed in her own little room inside here? What is poor Nelly going to do?”

“What a remarkable pleasant way he has with children!” muttered Brass.

“I’m not going to stay at all,” faltered Nell. “I want a few things out of that room, and then I won’t come down here any more.”

“You’re sure you’re not going to use that little room anymore; you’re sure you’re not coming back, Nelly?’

“No,” replied the child, hurrying away, with the few articles of dress “never again! Never again.”

“She’s very sensitive,” said Quilp, looking after her. “Very sensitive; that’s a pity. The bed is just my size. I think I shall make it my little room.”

The dwarf walked in and threw himself on his back upon the child’s bed with his pipe in his mouth. Mr. Brass applauded this picture very much.

11

At length, the crisis of the old man’s disorder was past, and he began to recover. By very slow and feeble degrees his consciousness came back; but the mind was weakened and its functions were impaired. He sat, for hours together, with Nell’s small hand in his, playing with the fingers.

He was sitting in his easy-chair one day, and Nell upon a stool beside him, when a man outside knocked.

“Yes,” the old man said without emotion, “it is Quilp. Quilp is master there. Come in, of course.”

And so he did.

“I’m glad to see you well again at last, neighbour,” said the dwarf, sitting down opposite to him. “You’re quite strong now?”

“Yes,” said the old man feebly, “yes.”

“I don’t want to hurry you, you know, neighbour,” said the dwarf, raising his voice; “but the sooner you can find a place to live, the better.”

“Surely,” said the old man. “The better for everybody. I will, certainly, we shall not stay here.”

“You see,” pursued Quilp after a short pause, “I have sold the things. Today’s Tuesday. When will the things be moved? This afternoon?”

“What about Friday morning?” returned the old man.

“Very good,” said the dwarf. “So be it, neighbour.”

“Good,” returned the old man. “I shall remember it.”

12

Thursday arrived. In a small dull yard below his window, there was a tree green and flourishing enough, it threw a rippling shadow on the white wall. The old man sat watching the shadows, until the sun went down; and when it was night, and the moon was slowly rising, he still sat in the same spot.

He besought Nelly to forgive him.

“Forgive you what?” said Nell. “Oh grandfather, what should I forgive?”

“All that is past, all that has come upon you, Nell, all that was done,” returned the old man.

“Do not talk so,” said the child. “Pray do not. Let us speak of something else.”

“Yes, yes, we will,” he rejoined. “Hush! We will not stay here. We will go far away from here.”

“Yes, let us go,” said the child earnestly. “Let us leave this place, and never turn back or think of it again. Let us wander barefoot through the world, rather than linger here.”

“We will,” answered the old man, “we will travel afoot through the fields and woods, and by the side of rivers, and trust ourselves to God in the places where He dwells. You and I together, Nell.”

“We will be happy,” cried the child. “We never can be here.”

“No,” rejoined the old man. “Let us steal away tomorrow morning early and softly, that we may not be seen or heard. Poor Nell! Your cheek is pale, and your eyes are weeping; but you will be well again, and merry too, when we are far away. Tomorrow morning, dear, we’ll turn our faces from this scene of sorrow, and be as free and happy as the birds.”

And then, the old man clasped his hands above her head, and said that from that time forth they would wander up and down together.

The child’s heart beat high with hope and confidence. She had no thought of hunger, or cold, or thirst, or suffering. The old man had slept, for some hours, in his bed, and she was busily engaged in preparing for their flight. There were a few articles of clothing for herself to carry, and a few for him; old garments; and a staff to support his feeble steps. But this was not all her task; for now she must visit the old rooms for the last time.

She sat down at the window where she had spent so many evenings. There were some trifles in her room that she would like to take away; but that was impossible.

The old man woke up. He wanted to leave the house immediately, and was soon ready. The child then took him by the hand, and they trod lightly and cautiously down the stairs. At last, they reached the passage on the ground-floor, where the snoring of Mr. Quilp and his legal friend sounded more terrible in their ears than the roars of lions.

They opened the door without noise, and passing into the street, stood still.

“Which way?” said the child.

The old man looked, irresolutely and helplessly, first at her, then to the right and left, then at her again, and shook his head. The child put her hand in his, and led him gently away.

Forth from the city went the two poor adventurers, wandering they knew not whither.

13

Dick Swiveller entered the shop and saw Daniel Quilp.

“You came for some purpose, I suppose,” said Quilp. “What is it you want?”

“I want to know how the old gentleman is,” rejoined Mr. Swiveller, “and to see Nell. I’m a friend of the family, sir, at least I’m the friend of one of the family, and that’s the same thing.”

“You’d better walk in then,” said the dwarf. “Go on, sir, go on.”

“You seem to make yourself at home here,” said Dick, who was unacquainted with Mr. Quilp’s authority.

“I am at home, young gentleman,” returned the dwarf.

Dick was pondering what these words might mean, and still more what the presence of Mr. Brass might mean, when Mrs. Quilp came downstairs, declaring that the rooms above were empty.

“Empty, you fool!” said the dwarf.

“I have been into every room, Quilp,” answered his trembling wife, “and there’s not a soul in any of them.”

Quilp turned to Mr. Brass.

“Indeed,” he said, “we knew that they’d go away today, but not that they’d go so early, or so quietly. But they have their reasons, they have their reasons.”

“Where did they go?” said the wondering Dick.

Swiveller was utterly aghast. The old man and all the money melted away.

“Well,” said Dick, “I suppose it’s of no use my staying here.”

“Not the least in the world,” rejoined the dwarf.

By this time, certain vans had arrived for the conveyance of the goods. The dwarf observed, that a boy was prying in at the outer door. It was Kit, and Mr. Quilp hailed him by his name.

“Come here, you sir,” said the dwarf. “Well, so your old master and young mistress have gone?”

“Where?” rejoined Kit, looking round.

“Do you mean to say you don’t know where?” answered Quilp sharply. “Where have they gone, eh?”

“I don’t know,” said Kit.

“Oh!” said the dwarf after a little consideration. “Then, I think they’ll come to you.”

“Do you think they will?” cried Kit eagerly.

“Why not?” returned the dwarf. “And when they do, let me know; do you hear? Let me know, and I’ll give you something. I want to do them a kindness, and I can’t do them a kindness unless I know where they are. You hear what I say?”