'
He was as mute and senseless as the box, from which his form derived the
only expression it had.
He was as mute and senseless as the box, from which his form derived the
only expression it had.
Dickens - David Copperfield
Omer.
'Look at me! My wind may fail me at any moment, and it ain't
likely that, to my own knowledge, I'd be self-interested under such
circumstances. I say it ain't likely, in a man who knows his wind will
go, when it DOES go, as if a pair of bellows was cut open; and that man
a grandfather,' said Mr. Omer.
I said, 'Not at all. '
'It ain't that I complain of my line of business,' said Mr. Omer. 'It
ain't that. Some good and some bad goes, no doubt, to all callings. What
I wish is, that parties was brought up stronger-minded. '
Mr. Omer, with a very complacent and amiable face, took several puffs in
silence; and then said, resuming his first point:
'Accordingly we're obleeged, in ascertaining how Barkis goes on, to
limit ourselves to Em'ly. She knows what our real objects are, and she
don't have any more alarms or suspicions about us, than if we was so
many lambs. Minnie and Joram have just stepped down to the house, in
fact (she's there, after hours, helping her aunt a bit), to ask her how
he is tonight; and if you was to please to wait till they come back,
they'd give you full partic'lers. Will you take something? A glass of
srub and water, now? I smoke on srub and water, myself,' said Mr. Omer,
taking up his glass, 'because it's considered softening to the passages,
by which this troublesome breath of mine gets into action. But, Lord
bless you,' said Mr. Omer, huskily, 'it ain't the passages that's out of
order! "Give me breath enough," said I to my daughter Minnie, "and I'll
find passages, my dear. "'
He really had no breath to spare, and it was very alarming to see him
laugh. When he was again in a condition to be talked to, I thanked
him for the proffered refreshment, which I declined, as I had just had
dinner; and, observing that I would wait, since he was so good as to
invite me, until his daughter and his son-in-law came back, I inquired
how little Emily was?
'Well, sir,' said Mr. Omer, removing his pipe, that he might rub his
chin: 'I tell you truly, I shall be glad when her marriage has taken
place. '
'Why so? ' I inquired.
'Well, she's unsettled at present,' said Mr. Omer. 'It ain't that she's
not as pretty as ever, for she's prettier--I do assure you, she is
prettier. It ain't that she don't work as well as ever, for she does.
She WAS worth any six, and she IS worth any six. But somehow she wants
heart. If you understand,' said Mr. Omer, after rubbing his chin again,
and smoking a little, 'what I mean in a general way by the expression,
"A long pull, and a strong pull, and a pull altogether, my hearties,
hurrah! " I should say to you, that that was--in a general way--what I
miss in Em'ly. '
Mr. Omer's face and manner went for so much, that I could
conscientiously nod my head, as divining his meaning. My quickness of
apprehension seemed to please him, and he went on: 'Now I consider this
is principally on account of her being in an unsettled state, you
see. We have talked it over a good deal, her uncle and myself, and her
sweetheart and myself, after business; and I consider it is principally
on account of her being unsettled. You must always recollect of Em'ly,'
said Mr. Omer, shaking his head gently, 'that she's a most extraordinary
affectionate little thing. The proverb says, "You can't make a silk
purse out of a sow's ear. " Well, I don't know about that. I rather think
you may, if you begin early in life. She has made a home out of that old
boat, sir, that stone and marble couldn't beat. '
'I am sure she has! ' said I.
'To see the clinging of that pretty little thing to her uncle,' said
Mr. Omer; 'to see the way she holds on to him, tighter and tighter, and
closer and closer, every day, is to see a sight. Now, you know, there's
a struggle going on when that's the case. Why should it be made a longer
one than is needful? '
I listened attentively to the good old fellow, and acquiesced, with all
my heart, in what he said.
'Therefore, I mentioned to them,' said Mr. Omer, in a comfortable,
easy-going tone, 'this. I said, "Now, don't consider Em'ly nailed down
in point of time, at all. Make it your own time. Her services have been
more valuable than was supposed; her learning has been quicker than was
supposed; Omer and Joram can run their pen through what remains; and
she's free when you wish. If she likes to make any little arrangement,
afterwards, in the way of doing any little thing for us at home,
very well. If she don't, very well still. We're no losers, anyhow. "
For--don't you see,' said Mr. Omer, touching me with his pipe, 'it ain't
likely that a man so short of breath as myself, and a grandfather too,
would go and strain points with a little bit of a blue-eyed blossom,
like her? '
'Not at all, I am certain,' said I.
'Not at all! You're right! ' said Mr. Omer. 'Well, sir, her cousin--you
know it's a cousin she's going to be married to? '
'Oh yes,' I replied. 'I know him well. '
'Of course you do,' said Mr. Omer. 'Well, sir! Her cousin being, as it
appears, in good work, and well to do, thanked me in a very manly sort
of manner for this (conducting himself altogether, I must say, in a way
that gives me a high opinion of him), and went and took as comfortable
a little house as you or I could wish to clap eyes on. That little
house is now furnished right through, as neat and complete as a doll's
parlour; and but for Barkis's illness having taken this bad turn, poor
fellow, they would have been man and wife--I dare say, by this time. As
it is, there's a postponement. '
'And Emily, Mr. Omer? ' I inquired. 'Has she become more settled? '
'Why that, you know,' he returned, rubbing his double chin again, 'can't
naturally be expected. The prospect of the change and separation, and
all that, is, as one may say, close to her and far away from her, both
at once. Barkis's death needn't put it off much, but his lingering
might. Anyway, it's an uncertain state of matters, you see. '
'I see,' said I.
'Consequently,' pursued Mr. Omer, 'Em'ly's still a little down, and a
little fluttered; perhaps, upon the whole, she's more so than she was.
Every day she seems to get fonder and fonder of her uncle, and more loth
to part from all of us. A kind word from me brings the tears into her
eyes; and if you was to see her with my daughter Minnie's little girl,
you'd never forget it. Bless my heart alive! ' said Mr. Omer, pondering,
'how she loves that child! '
Having so favourable an opportunity, it occurred to me to ask Mr. Omer,
before our conversation should be interrupted by the return of his
daughter and her husband, whether he knew anything of Martha.
'Ah! ' he rejoined, shaking his head, and looking very much dejected.
'No good. A sad story, sir, however you come to know it. I never thought
there was harm in the girl. I wouldn't wish to mention it before my
daughter Minnie--for she'd take me up directly--but I never did. None of
us ever did. '
Mr. Omer, hearing his daughter's footstep before I heard it, touched me
with his pipe, and shut up one eye, as a caution. She and her husband
came in immediately afterwards.
Their report was, that Mr. Barkis was 'as bad as bad could be'; that he
was quite unconscious; and that Mr. Chillip had mournfully said in the
kitchen, on going away just now, that the College of Physicians, the
College of Surgeons, and Apothecaries' Hall, if they were all called
in together, couldn't help him. He was past both Colleges, Mr. Chillip
said, and the Hall could only poison him.
Hearing this, and learning that Mr. Peggotty was there, I determined to
go to the house at once. I bade good night to Mr. Omer, and to Mr. and
Mrs. Joram; and directed my steps thither, with a solemn feeling, which
made Mr. Barkis quite a new and different creature.
My low tap at the door was answered by Mr. Peggotty. He was not so much
surprised to see me as I had expected. I remarked this in Peggotty,
too, when she came down; and I have seen it since; and I think, in the
expectation of that dread surprise, all other changes and surprises
dwindle into nothing.
I shook hands with Mr. Peggotty, and passed into the kitchen, while he
softly closed the door. Little Emily was sitting by the fire, with her
hands before her face. Ham was standing near her.
We spoke in whispers; listening, between whiles, for any sound in the
room above. I had not thought of it on the occasion of my last visit,
but how strange it was to me, now, to miss Mr. Barkis out of the
kitchen!
'This is very kind of you, Mas'r Davy,' said Mr. Peggotty.
'It's oncommon kind,' said Ham.
'Em'ly, my dear,' cried Mr. Peggotty. 'See here! Here's Mas'r Davy come!
What, cheer up, pretty! Not a wured to Mas'r Davy? '
There was a trembling upon her, that I can see now. The coldness of her
hand when I touched it, I can feel yet. Its only sign of animation was
to shrink from mine; and then she glided from the chair, and creeping
to the other side of her uncle, bowed herself, silently and trembling
still, upon his breast.
'It's such a loving art,' said Mr. Peggotty, smoothing her rich hair
with his great hard hand, 'that it can't abear the sorrer of this.
It's nat'ral in young folk, Mas'r Davy, when they're new to these here
trials, and timid, like my little bird,--it's nat'ral. '
She clung the closer to him, but neither lifted up her face, nor spoke a
word.
'It's getting late, my dear,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'and here's Ham come
fur to take you home. Theer! Go along with t'other loving art! What'
Em'ly? Eh, my pretty? '
The sound of her voice had not reached me, but he bent his head as if he
listened to her, and then said:
'Let you stay with your uncle? Why, you doen't mean to ask me that! Stay
with your uncle, Moppet? When your husband that'll be so soon, is here
fur to take you home? Now a person wouldn't think it, fur to see this
little thing alongside a rough-weather chap like me,' said Mr. Peggotty,
looking round at both of us, with infinite pride; 'but the sea ain't
more salt in it than she has fondness in her for her uncle--a foolish
little Em'ly! '
'Em'ly's in the right in that, Mas'r Davy! ' said Ham. 'Lookee here! As
Em'ly wishes of it, and as she's hurried and frightened, like, besides,
I'll leave her till morning. Let me stay too! '
'No, no,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'You doen't ought--a married man like
you--or what's as good--to take and hull away a day's work. And you
doen't ought to watch and work both. That won't do. You go home and turn
in. You ain't afeerd of Em'ly not being took good care on, I know. '
Ham yielded to this persuasion, and took his hat to go. Even when he
kissed her--and I never saw him approach her, but I felt that nature
had given him the soul of a gentleman--she seemed to cling closer to
her uncle, even to the avoidance of her chosen husband. I shut the
door after him, that it might cause no disturbance of the quiet that
prevailed; and when I turned back, I found Mr. Peggotty still talking to
her.
'Now, I'm a going upstairs to tell your aunt as Mas'r Davy's here, and
that'll cheer her up a bit,' he said. 'Sit ye down by the fire, the
while, my dear, and warm those mortal cold hands. You doen't need to be
so fearsome, and take on so much. What? You'll go along with me? --Well!
come along with me--come! If her uncle was turned out of house and home,
and forced to lay down in a dyke, Mas'r Davy,' said Mr. Peggotty, with
no less pride than before, 'it's my belief she'd go along with him, now!
But there'll be someone else, soon,--someone else, soon, Em'ly! '
Afterwards, when I went upstairs, as I passed the door of my little
chamber, which was dark, I had an indistinct impression of her being
within it, cast down upon the floor. But, whether it was really she, or
whether it was a confusion of the shadows in the room, I don't know now.
I had leisure to think, before the kitchen fire, of pretty little
Emily's dread of death--which, added to what Mr. Omer had told me, I
took to be the cause of her being so unlike herself--and I had leisure,
before Peggotty came down, even to think more leniently of the weakness
of it: as I sat counting the ticking of the clock, and deepening my
sense of the solemn hush around me. Peggotty took me in her arms, and
blessed and thanked me over and over again for being such a comfort to
her (that was what she said) in her distress. She then entreated me to
come upstairs, sobbing that Mr. Barkis had always liked me and admired
me; that he had often talked of me, before he fell into a stupor; and
that she believed, in case of his coming to himself again, he would
brighten up at sight of me, if he could brighten up at any earthly
thing.
The probability of his ever doing so, appeared to me, when I saw him, to
be very small. He was lying with his head and shoulders out of bed, in
an uncomfortable attitude, half resting on the box which had cost him so
much pain and trouble. I learned, that, when he was past creeping out of
bed to open it, and past assuring himself of its safety by means of the
divining rod I had seen him use, he had required to have it placed on
the chair at the bed-side, where he had ever since embraced it, night
and day. His arm lay on it now. Time and the world were slipping from
beneath him, but the box was there; and the last words he had uttered
were (in an explanatory tone) 'Old clothes! '
'Barkis, my dear! ' said Peggotty, almost cheerfully: bending over him,
while her brother and I stood at the bed's foot. 'Here's my dear boy--my
dear boy, Master Davy, who brought us together, Barkis! That you sent
messages by, you know! Won't you speak to Master Davy?
'
He was as mute and senseless as the box, from which his form derived the
only expression it had.
'He's a going out with the tide,' said Mr. Peggotty to me, behind his
hand.
My eyes were dim and so were Mr. Peggotty's; but I repeated in a
whisper, 'With the tide? '
'People can't die, along the coast,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'except when
the tide's pretty nigh out. They can't be born, unless it's pretty nigh
in--not properly born, till flood. He's a going out with the tide. It's
ebb at half-arter three, slack water half an hour. If he lives till it
turns, he'll hold his own till past the flood, and go out with the next
tide. '
We remained there, watching him, a long time--hours. What mysterious
influence my presence had upon him in that state of his senses, I shall
not pretend to say; but when he at last began to wander feebly, it is
certain he was muttering about driving me to school.
'He's coming to himself,' said Peggotty.
Mr. Peggotty touched me, and whispered with much awe and reverence.
'They are both a-going out fast. '
'Barkis, my dear! ' said Peggotty.
'C. P. Barkis,' he cried faintly. 'No better woman anywhere! '
'Look! Here's Master Davy! ' said Peggotty. For he now opened his eyes.
I was on the point of asking him if he knew me, when he tried to stretch
out his arm, and said to me, distinctly, with a pleasant smile:
'Barkis is willin'! '
And, it being low water, he went out with the tide.
CHAPTER 31. A GREATER LOSS
It was not difficult for me, on Peggotty's solicitation, to resolve to
stay where I was, until after the remains of the poor carrier should
have made their last journey to Blunderstone. She had long ago bought,
out of her own savings, a little piece of ground in our old churchyard
near the grave of 'her sweet girl', as she always called my mother; and
there they were to rest.
In keeping Peggotty company, and doing all I could for her (little
enough at the utmost), I was as grateful, I rejoice to think, as even
now I could wish myself to have been. But I am afraid I had a supreme
satisfaction, of a personal and professional nature, in taking charge of
Mr. Barkis's will, and expounding its contents.
I may claim the merit of having originated the suggestion that the will
should be looked for in the box. After some search, it was found in the
box, at the bottom of a horse's nose-bag; wherein (besides hay) there
was discovered an old gold watch, with chain and seals, which Mr. Barkis
had worn on his wedding-day, and which had never been seen before or
since; a silver tobacco-stopper, in the form of a leg; an imitation
lemon, full of minute cups and saucers, which I have some idea Mr.
Barkis must have purchased to present to me when I was a child, and
afterwards found himself unable to part with; eighty-seven guineas and
a half, in guineas and half-guineas; two hundred and ten pounds, in
perfectly clean Bank notes; certain receipts for Bank of England
stock; an old horseshoe, a bad shilling, a piece of camphor, and an
oyster-shell. From the circumstance of the latter article having
been much polished, and displaying prismatic colours on the inside,
I conclude that Mr. Barkis had some general ideas about pearls, which
never resolved themselves into anything definite.
For years and years, Mr. Barkis had carried this box, on all his
journeys, every day. That it might the better escape notice, he had
invented a fiction that it belonged to 'Mr. Blackboy', and was 'to be
left with Barkis till called for'; a fable he had elaborately written on
the lid, in characters now scarcely legible.
He had hoarded, all these years, I found, to good purpose. His property
in money amounted to nearly three thousand pounds. Of this he bequeathed
the interest of one thousand to Mr. Peggotty for his life; on his
decease, the principal to be equally divided between Peggotty, little
Emily, and me, or the survivor or survivors of us, share and share
alike. All the rest he died possessed of, he bequeathed to Peggotty;
whom he left residuary legatee, and sole executrix of that his last will
and testament.
I felt myself quite a proctor when I read this document aloud with all
possible ceremony, and set forth its provisions, any number of times,
to those whom they concerned. I began to think there was more in the
Commons than I had supposed. I examined the will with the deepest
attention, pronounced it perfectly formal in all respects, made a
pencil-mark or so in the margin, and thought it rather extraordinary
that I knew so much.
In this abstruse pursuit; in making an account for Peggotty, of all the
property into which she had come; in arranging all the affairs in an
orderly manner; and in being her referee and adviser on every point, to
our joint delight; I passed the week before the funeral. I did not see
little Emily in that interval, but they told me she was to be quietly
married in a fortnight.
I did not attend the funeral in character, if I may venture to say so.
I mean I was not dressed up in a black coat and a streamer, to frighten
the birds; but I walked over to Blunderstone early in the morning, and
was in the churchyard when it came, attended only by Peggotty and her
brother. The mad gentleman looked on, out of my little window; Mr.
Chillip's baby wagged its heavy head, and rolled its goggle eyes, at
the clergyman, over its nurse's shoulder; Mr. Omer breathed short in
the background; no one else was there; and it was very quiet. We walked
about the churchyard for an hour, after all was over; and pulled some
young leaves from the tree above my mother's grave.
A dread falls on me here. A cloud is lowering on the distant town,
towards which I retraced my solitary steps. I fear to approach it. I
cannot bear to think of what did come, upon that memorable night; of
what must come again, if I go on.
It is no worse, because I write of it. It would be no better, if I
stopped my most unwilling hand. It is done. Nothing can undo it; nothing
can make it otherwise than as it was.
My old nurse was to go to London with me next day, on the business of
the will. Little Emily was passing that day at Mr. Omer's. We were all
to meet in the old boathouse that night. Ham would bring Emily at the
usual hour. I would walk back at my leisure. The brother and sister
would return as they had come, and be expecting us, when the day closed
in, at the fireside.
I parted from them at the wicket-gate, where visionary Strap had rested
with Roderick Random's knapsack in the days of yore; and, instead of
going straight back, walked a little distance on the road to Lowestoft.
Then I turned, and walked back towards Yarmouth. I stayed to dine at
a decent alehouse, some mile or two from the Ferry I have mentioned
before; and thus the day wore away, and it was evening when I reached
it. Rain was falling heavily by that time, and it was a wild night; but
there was a moon behind the clouds, and it was not dark.
I was soon within sight of Mr. Peggotty's house, and of the light within
it shining through the window. A little floundering across the sand,
which was heavy, brought me to the door, and I went in.
It looked very comfortable indeed. Mr. Peggotty had smoked his evening
pipe and there were preparations for some supper by and by. The fire was
bright, the ashes were thrown up, the locker was ready for little Emily
in her old place. In her own old place sat Peggotty, once more, looking
(but for her dress) as if she had never left it. She had fallen back,
already, on the society of the work-box with St. Paul's upon the lid,
the yard-measure in the cottage, and the bit of wax-candle; and there
they all were, just as if they had never been disturbed. Mrs. Gummidge
appeared to be fretting a little, in her old corner; and consequently
looked quite natural, too.
'You're first of the lot, Mas'r Davy! ' said Mr. Peggotty with a happy
face. 'Doen't keep in that coat, sir, if it's wet. '
'Thank you, Mr. Peggotty,' said I, giving him my outer coat to hang up.
'It's quite dry. '
'So 'tis! ' said Mr. Peggotty, feeling my shoulders. 'As a chip! Sit ye
down, sir. It ain't o' no use saying welcome to you, but you're welcome,
kind and hearty. '
'Thank you, Mr. Peggotty, I am sure of that. Well, Peggotty! ' said I,
giving her a kiss. 'And how are you, old woman? '
'Ha, ha! ' laughed Mr. Peggotty, sitting down beside us, and rubbing his
hands in his sense of relief from recent trouble, and in the genuine
heartiness of his nature; 'there's not a woman in the wureld, sir--as I
tell her--that need to feel more easy in her mind than her! She done her
dooty by the departed, and the departed know'd it; and the departed
done what was right by her, as she done what was right by the
departed;--and--and--and it's all right! '
Mrs. Gummidge groaned.
'Cheer up, my pritty mawther! ' said Mr. Peggotty. (But he shook his head
aside at us, evidently sensible of the tendency of the late occurrences
to recall the memory of the old one. ) 'Doen't be down! Cheer up, for
your own self, on'y a little bit, and see if a good deal more doen't
come nat'ral! '
'Not to me, Dan'l,' returned Mrs. Gummidge. 'Nothink's nat'ral to me but
to be lone and lorn. '
'No, no,' said Mr. Peggotty, soothing her sorrows.
'Yes, yes, Dan'l! ' said Mrs. Gummidge. 'I ain't a person to live with
them as has had money left. Thinks go too contrary with me. I had better
be a riddance. '
'Why, how should I ever spend it without you? ' said Mr. Peggotty, with
an air of serious remonstrance. 'What are you a talking on? Doen't I
want you more now, than ever I did? '
'I know'd I was never wanted before! ' cried Mrs. Gummidge, with a
pitiable whimper, 'and now I'm told so! How could I expect to be wanted,
being so lone and lorn, and so contrary! '
Mr. Peggotty seemed very much shocked at himself for having made a
speech capable of this unfeeling construction, but was prevented from
replying, by Peggotty's pulling his sleeve, and shaking her head. After
looking at Mrs. Gummidge for some moments, in sore distress of mind, he
glanced at the Dutch clock, rose, snuffed the candle, and put it in the
window.
'Theer! 'said Mr. Peggotty, cheerily. 'Theer we are, Missis Gummidge! '
Mrs. Gummidge slightly groaned. 'Lighted up, accordin' to custom! You're
a wonderin' what that's fur, sir! Well, it's fur our little Em'ly. You
see, the path ain't over light or cheerful arter dark; and when I'm
here at the hour as she's a comin' home, I puts the light in the winder.
That, you see,' said Mr. Peggotty, bending over me with great glee,
'meets two objects. She says, says Em'ly, "Theer's home! " she says. And
likewise, says Em'ly, "My uncle's theer! " Fur if I ain't theer, I never
have no light showed. '
'You're a baby! ' said Peggotty; very fond of him for it, if she thought
so.
'Well,' returned Mr. Peggotty, standing with his legs pretty wide apart,
and rubbing his hands up and down them in his comfortable satisfaction,
as he looked alternately at us and at the fire. 'I doen't know but I am.
Not, you see, to look at. '
'Not azackly,' observed Peggotty.
'No,' laughed Mr. Peggotty, 'not to look at, but to--to consider on, you
know. I doen't care, bless you! Now I tell you. When I go a looking and
looking about that theer pritty house of our Em'ly's, I'm--I'm Gormed,'
said Mr. Peggotty, with sudden emphasis--'theer! I can't say more--if
I doen't feel as if the littlest things was her, a'most. I takes 'em up
and I put 'em down, and I touches of 'em as delicate as if they was our
Em'ly. So 'tis with her little bonnets and that. I couldn't see one on
'em rough used a purpose--not fur the whole wureld. There's a babby fur
you, in the form of a great Sea Porkypine! ' said Mr. Peggotty, relieving
his earnestness with a roar of laughter.
Peggotty and I both laughed, but not so loud.
'It's my opinion, you see,' said Mr. Peggotty, with a delighted face,
after some further rubbing of his legs, 'as this is along of my havin'
played with her so much, and made believe as we was Turks, and French,
and sharks, and every wariety of forinners--bless you, yes; and lions
and whales, and I doen't know what all! --when she warn't no higher than
my knee. I've got into the way on it, you know. Why, this here candle,
now! ' said Mr. Peggotty, gleefully holding out his hand towards it,
'I know wery well that arter she's married and gone, I shall put that
candle theer, just the same as now. I know wery well that when I'm
here o' nights (and where else should I live, bless your arts, whatever
fortun' I come into! ) and she ain't here or I ain't theer, I shall
put the candle in the winder, and sit afore the fire, pretending I'm
expecting of her, like I'm a doing now. THERE'S a babby for you,' said
Mr. Peggotty, with another roar, 'in the form of a Sea Porkypine! Why,
at the present minute, when I see the candle sparkle up, I says to
myself, "She's a looking at it! Em'ly's a coming! " THERE'S a babby
for you, in the form of a Sea Porkypine! Right for all that,' said Mr.
Peggotty, stopping in his roar, and smiting his hands together; 'fur
here she is! '
It was only Ham. The night should have turned more wet since I came in,
for he had a large sou'wester hat on, slouched over his face.
'Look at me! My wind may fail me at any moment, and it ain't
likely that, to my own knowledge, I'd be self-interested under such
circumstances. I say it ain't likely, in a man who knows his wind will
go, when it DOES go, as if a pair of bellows was cut open; and that man
a grandfather,' said Mr. Omer.
I said, 'Not at all. '
'It ain't that I complain of my line of business,' said Mr. Omer. 'It
ain't that. Some good and some bad goes, no doubt, to all callings. What
I wish is, that parties was brought up stronger-minded. '
Mr. Omer, with a very complacent and amiable face, took several puffs in
silence; and then said, resuming his first point:
'Accordingly we're obleeged, in ascertaining how Barkis goes on, to
limit ourselves to Em'ly. She knows what our real objects are, and she
don't have any more alarms or suspicions about us, than if we was so
many lambs. Minnie and Joram have just stepped down to the house, in
fact (she's there, after hours, helping her aunt a bit), to ask her how
he is tonight; and if you was to please to wait till they come back,
they'd give you full partic'lers. Will you take something? A glass of
srub and water, now? I smoke on srub and water, myself,' said Mr. Omer,
taking up his glass, 'because it's considered softening to the passages,
by which this troublesome breath of mine gets into action. But, Lord
bless you,' said Mr. Omer, huskily, 'it ain't the passages that's out of
order! "Give me breath enough," said I to my daughter Minnie, "and I'll
find passages, my dear. "'
He really had no breath to spare, and it was very alarming to see him
laugh. When he was again in a condition to be talked to, I thanked
him for the proffered refreshment, which I declined, as I had just had
dinner; and, observing that I would wait, since he was so good as to
invite me, until his daughter and his son-in-law came back, I inquired
how little Emily was?
'Well, sir,' said Mr. Omer, removing his pipe, that he might rub his
chin: 'I tell you truly, I shall be glad when her marriage has taken
place. '
'Why so? ' I inquired.
'Well, she's unsettled at present,' said Mr. Omer. 'It ain't that she's
not as pretty as ever, for she's prettier--I do assure you, she is
prettier. It ain't that she don't work as well as ever, for she does.
She WAS worth any six, and she IS worth any six. But somehow she wants
heart. If you understand,' said Mr. Omer, after rubbing his chin again,
and smoking a little, 'what I mean in a general way by the expression,
"A long pull, and a strong pull, and a pull altogether, my hearties,
hurrah! " I should say to you, that that was--in a general way--what I
miss in Em'ly. '
Mr. Omer's face and manner went for so much, that I could
conscientiously nod my head, as divining his meaning. My quickness of
apprehension seemed to please him, and he went on: 'Now I consider this
is principally on account of her being in an unsettled state, you
see. We have talked it over a good deal, her uncle and myself, and her
sweetheart and myself, after business; and I consider it is principally
on account of her being unsettled. You must always recollect of Em'ly,'
said Mr. Omer, shaking his head gently, 'that she's a most extraordinary
affectionate little thing. The proverb says, "You can't make a silk
purse out of a sow's ear. " Well, I don't know about that. I rather think
you may, if you begin early in life. She has made a home out of that old
boat, sir, that stone and marble couldn't beat. '
'I am sure she has! ' said I.
'To see the clinging of that pretty little thing to her uncle,' said
Mr. Omer; 'to see the way she holds on to him, tighter and tighter, and
closer and closer, every day, is to see a sight. Now, you know, there's
a struggle going on when that's the case. Why should it be made a longer
one than is needful? '
I listened attentively to the good old fellow, and acquiesced, with all
my heart, in what he said.
'Therefore, I mentioned to them,' said Mr. Omer, in a comfortable,
easy-going tone, 'this. I said, "Now, don't consider Em'ly nailed down
in point of time, at all. Make it your own time. Her services have been
more valuable than was supposed; her learning has been quicker than was
supposed; Omer and Joram can run their pen through what remains; and
she's free when you wish. If she likes to make any little arrangement,
afterwards, in the way of doing any little thing for us at home,
very well. If she don't, very well still. We're no losers, anyhow. "
For--don't you see,' said Mr. Omer, touching me with his pipe, 'it ain't
likely that a man so short of breath as myself, and a grandfather too,
would go and strain points with a little bit of a blue-eyed blossom,
like her? '
'Not at all, I am certain,' said I.
'Not at all! You're right! ' said Mr. Omer. 'Well, sir, her cousin--you
know it's a cousin she's going to be married to? '
'Oh yes,' I replied. 'I know him well. '
'Of course you do,' said Mr. Omer. 'Well, sir! Her cousin being, as it
appears, in good work, and well to do, thanked me in a very manly sort
of manner for this (conducting himself altogether, I must say, in a way
that gives me a high opinion of him), and went and took as comfortable
a little house as you or I could wish to clap eyes on. That little
house is now furnished right through, as neat and complete as a doll's
parlour; and but for Barkis's illness having taken this bad turn, poor
fellow, they would have been man and wife--I dare say, by this time. As
it is, there's a postponement. '
'And Emily, Mr. Omer? ' I inquired. 'Has she become more settled? '
'Why that, you know,' he returned, rubbing his double chin again, 'can't
naturally be expected. The prospect of the change and separation, and
all that, is, as one may say, close to her and far away from her, both
at once. Barkis's death needn't put it off much, but his lingering
might. Anyway, it's an uncertain state of matters, you see. '
'I see,' said I.
'Consequently,' pursued Mr. Omer, 'Em'ly's still a little down, and a
little fluttered; perhaps, upon the whole, she's more so than she was.
Every day she seems to get fonder and fonder of her uncle, and more loth
to part from all of us. A kind word from me brings the tears into her
eyes; and if you was to see her with my daughter Minnie's little girl,
you'd never forget it. Bless my heart alive! ' said Mr. Omer, pondering,
'how she loves that child! '
Having so favourable an opportunity, it occurred to me to ask Mr. Omer,
before our conversation should be interrupted by the return of his
daughter and her husband, whether he knew anything of Martha.
'Ah! ' he rejoined, shaking his head, and looking very much dejected.
'No good. A sad story, sir, however you come to know it. I never thought
there was harm in the girl. I wouldn't wish to mention it before my
daughter Minnie--for she'd take me up directly--but I never did. None of
us ever did. '
Mr. Omer, hearing his daughter's footstep before I heard it, touched me
with his pipe, and shut up one eye, as a caution. She and her husband
came in immediately afterwards.
Their report was, that Mr. Barkis was 'as bad as bad could be'; that he
was quite unconscious; and that Mr. Chillip had mournfully said in the
kitchen, on going away just now, that the College of Physicians, the
College of Surgeons, and Apothecaries' Hall, if they were all called
in together, couldn't help him. He was past both Colleges, Mr. Chillip
said, and the Hall could only poison him.
Hearing this, and learning that Mr. Peggotty was there, I determined to
go to the house at once. I bade good night to Mr. Omer, and to Mr. and
Mrs. Joram; and directed my steps thither, with a solemn feeling, which
made Mr. Barkis quite a new and different creature.
My low tap at the door was answered by Mr. Peggotty. He was not so much
surprised to see me as I had expected. I remarked this in Peggotty,
too, when she came down; and I have seen it since; and I think, in the
expectation of that dread surprise, all other changes and surprises
dwindle into nothing.
I shook hands with Mr. Peggotty, and passed into the kitchen, while he
softly closed the door. Little Emily was sitting by the fire, with her
hands before her face. Ham was standing near her.
We spoke in whispers; listening, between whiles, for any sound in the
room above. I had not thought of it on the occasion of my last visit,
but how strange it was to me, now, to miss Mr. Barkis out of the
kitchen!
'This is very kind of you, Mas'r Davy,' said Mr. Peggotty.
'It's oncommon kind,' said Ham.
'Em'ly, my dear,' cried Mr. Peggotty. 'See here! Here's Mas'r Davy come!
What, cheer up, pretty! Not a wured to Mas'r Davy? '
There was a trembling upon her, that I can see now. The coldness of her
hand when I touched it, I can feel yet. Its only sign of animation was
to shrink from mine; and then she glided from the chair, and creeping
to the other side of her uncle, bowed herself, silently and trembling
still, upon his breast.
'It's such a loving art,' said Mr. Peggotty, smoothing her rich hair
with his great hard hand, 'that it can't abear the sorrer of this.
It's nat'ral in young folk, Mas'r Davy, when they're new to these here
trials, and timid, like my little bird,--it's nat'ral. '
She clung the closer to him, but neither lifted up her face, nor spoke a
word.
'It's getting late, my dear,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'and here's Ham come
fur to take you home. Theer! Go along with t'other loving art! What'
Em'ly? Eh, my pretty? '
The sound of her voice had not reached me, but he bent his head as if he
listened to her, and then said:
'Let you stay with your uncle? Why, you doen't mean to ask me that! Stay
with your uncle, Moppet? When your husband that'll be so soon, is here
fur to take you home? Now a person wouldn't think it, fur to see this
little thing alongside a rough-weather chap like me,' said Mr. Peggotty,
looking round at both of us, with infinite pride; 'but the sea ain't
more salt in it than she has fondness in her for her uncle--a foolish
little Em'ly! '
'Em'ly's in the right in that, Mas'r Davy! ' said Ham. 'Lookee here! As
Em'ly wishes of it, and as she's hurried and frightened, like, besides,
I'll leave her till morning. Let me stay too! '
'No, no,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'You doen't ought--a married man like
you--or what's as good--to take and hull away a day's work. And you
doen't ought to watch and work both. That won't do. You go home and turn
in. You ain't afeerd of Em'ly not being took good care on, I know. '
Ham yielded to this persuasion, and took his hat to go. Even when he
kissed her--and I never saw him approach her, but I felt that nature
had given him the soul of a gentleman--she seemed to cling closer to
her uncle, even to the avoidance of her chosen husband. I shut the
door after him, that it might cause no disturbance of the quiet that
prevailed; and when I turned back, I found Mr. Peggotty still talking to
her.
'Now, I'm a going upstairs to tell your aunt as Mas'r Davy's here, and
that'll cheer her up a bit,' he said. 'Sit ye down by the fire, the
while, my dear, and warm those mortal cold hands. You doen't need to be
so fearsome, and take on so much. What? You'll go along with me? --Well!
come along with me--come! If her uncle was turned out of house and home,
and forced to lay down in a dyke, Mas'r Davy,' said Mr. Peggotty, with
no less pride than before, 'it's my belief she'd go along with him, now!
But there'll be someone else, soon,--someone else, soon, Em'ly! '
Afterwards, when I went upstairs, as I passed the door of my little
chamber, which was dark, I had an indistinct impression of her being
within it, cast down upon the floor. But, whether it was really she, or
whether it was a confusion of the shadows in the room, I don't know now.
I had leisure to think, before the kitchen fire, of pretty little
Emily's dread of death--which, added to what Mr. Omer had told me, I
took to be the cause of her being so unlike herself--and I had leisure,
before Peggotty came down, even to think more leniently of the weakness
of it: as I sat counting the ticking of the clock, and deepening my
sense of the solemn hush around me. Peggotty took me in her arms, and
blessed and thanked me over and over again for being such a comfort to
her (that was what she said) in her distress. She then entreated me to
come upstairs, sobbing that Mr. Barkis had always liked me and admired
me; that he had often talked of me, before he fell into a stupor; and
that she believed, in case of his coming to himself again, he would
brighten up at sight of me, if he could brighten up at any earthly
thing.
The probability of his ever doing so, appeared to me, when I saw him, to
be very small. He was lying with his head and shoulders out of bed, in
an uncomfortable attitude, half resting on the box which had cost him so
much pain and trouble. I learned, that, when he was past creeping out of
bed to open it, and past assuring himself of its safety by means of the
divining rod I had seen him use, he had required to have it placed on
the chair at the bed-side, where he had ever since embraced it, night
and day. His arm lay on it now. Time and the world were slipping from
beneath him, but the box was there; and the last words he had uttered
were (in an explanatory tone) 'Old clothes! '
'Barkis, my dear! ' said Peggotty, almost cheerfully: bending over him,
while her brother and I stood at the bed's foot. 'Here's my dear boy--my
dear boy, Master Davy, who brought us together, Barkis! That you sent
messages by, you know! Won't you speak to Master Davy?
'
He was as mute and senseless as the box, from which his form derived the
only expression it had.
'He's a going out with the tide,' said Mr. Peggotty to me, behind his
hand.
My eyes were dim and so were Mr. Peggotty's; but I repeated in a
whisper, 'With the tide? '
'People can't die, along the coast,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'except when
the tide's pretty nigh out. They can't be born, unless it's pretty nigh
in--not properly born, till flood. He's a going out with the tide. It's
ebb at half-arter three, slack water half an hour. If he lives till it
turns, he'll hold his own till past the flood, and go out with the next
tide. '
We remained there, watching him, a long time--hours. What mysterious
influence my presence had upon him in that state of his senses, I shall
not pretend to say; but when he at last began to wander feebly, it is
certain he was muttering about driving me to school.
'He's coming to himself,' said Peggotty.
Mr. Peggotty touched me, and whispered with much awe and reverence.
'They are both a-going out fast. '
'Barkis, my dear! ' said Peggotty.
'C. P. Barkis,' he cried faintly. 'No better woman anywhere! '
'Look! Here's Master Davy! ' said Peggotty. For he now opened his eyes.
I was on the point of asking him if he knew me, when he tried to stretch
out his arm, and said to me, distinctly, with a pleasant smile:
'Barkis is willin'! '
And, it being low water, he went out with the tide.
CHAPTER 31. A GREATER LOSS
It was not difficult for me, on Peggotty's solicitation, to resolve to
stay where I was, until after the remains of the poor carrier should
have made their last journey to Blunderstone. She had long ago bought,
out of her own savings, a little piece of ground in our old churchyard
near the grave of 'her sweet girl', as she always called my mother; and
there they were to rest.
In keeping Peggotty company, and doing all I could for her (little
enough at the utmost), I was as grateful, I rejoice to think, as even
now I could wish myself to have been. But I am afraid I had a supreme
satisfaction, of a personal and professional nature, in taking charge of
Mr. Barkis's will, and expounding its contents.
I may claim the merit of having originated the suggestion that the will
should be looked for in the box. After some search, it was found in the
box, at the bottom of a horse's nose-bag; wherein (besides hay) there
was discovered an old gold watch, with chain and seals, which Mr. Barkis
had worn on his wedding-day, and which had never been seen before or
since; a silver tobacco-stopper, in the form of a leg; an imitation
lemon, full of minute cups and saucers, which I have some idea Mr.
Barkis must have purchased to present to me when I was a child, and
afterwards found himself unable to part with; eighty-seven guineas and
a half, in guineas and half-guineas; two hundred and ten pounds, in
perfectly clean Bank notes; certain receipts for Bank of England
stock; an old horseshoe, a bad shilling, a piece of camphor, and an
oyster-shell. From the circumstance of the latter article having
been much polished, and displaying prismatic colours on the inside,
I conclude that Mr. Barkis had some general ideas about pearls, which
never resolved themselves into anything definite.
For years and years, Mr. Barkis had carried this box, on all his
journeys, every day. That it might the better escape notice, he had
invented a fiction that it belonged to 'Mr. Blackboy', and was 'to be
left with Barkis till called for'; a fable he had elaborately written on
the lid, in characters now scarcely legible.
He had hoarded, all these years, I found, to good purpose. His property
in money amounted to nearly three thousand pounds. Of this he bequeathed
the interest of one thousand to Mr. Peggotty for his life; on his
decease, the principal to be equally divided between Peggotty, little
Emily, and me, or the survivor or survivors of us, share and share
alike. All the rest he died possessed of, he bequeathed to Peggotty;
whom he left residuary legatee, and sole executrix of that his last will
and testament.
I felt myself quite a proctor when I read this document aloud with all
possible ceremony, and set forth its provisions, any number of times,
to those whom they concerned. I began to think there was more in the
Commons than I had supposed. I examined the will with the deepest
attention, pronounced it perfectly formal in all respects, made a
pencil-mark or so in the margin, and thought it rather extraordinary
that I knew so much.
In this abstruse pursuit; in making an account for Peggotty, of all the
property into which she had come; in arranging all the affairs in an
orderly manner; and in being her referee and adviser on every point, to
our joint delight; I passed the week before the funeral. I did not see
little Emily in that interval, but they told me she was to be quietly
married in a fortnight.
I did not attend the funeral in character, if I may venture to say so.
I mean I was not dressed up in a black coat and a streamer, to frighten
the birds; but I walked over to Blunderstone early in the morning, and
was in the churchyard when it came, attended only by Peggotty and her
brother. The mad gentleman looked on, out of my little window; Mr.
Chillip's baby wagged its heavy head, and rolled its goggle eyes, at
the clergyman, over its nurse's shoulder; Mr. Omer breathed short in
the background; no one else was there; and it was very quiet. We walked
about the churchyard for an hour, after all was over; and pulled some
young leaves from the tree above my mother's grave.
A dread falls on me here. A cloud is lowering on the distant town,
towards which I retraced my solitary steps. I fear to approach it. I
cannot bear to think of what did come, upon that memorable night; of
what must come again, if I go on.
It is no worse, because I write of it. It would be no better, if I
stopped my most unwilling hand. It is done. Nothing can undo it; nothing
can make it otherwise than as it was.
My old nurse was to go to London with me next day, on the business of
the will. Little Emily was passing that day at Mr. Omer's. We were all
to meet in the old boathouse that night. Ham would bring Emily at the
usual hour. I would walk back at my leisure. The brother and sister
would return as they had come, and be expecting us, when the day closed
in, at the fireside.
I parted from them at the wicket-gate, where visionary Strap had rested
with Roderick Random's knapsack in the days of yore; and, instead of
going straight back, walked a little distance on the road to Lowestoft.
Then I turned, and walked back towards Yarmouth. I stayed to dine at
a decent alehouse, some mile or two from the Ferry I have mentioned
before; and thus the day wore away, and it was evening when I reached
it. Rain was falling heavily by that time, and it was a wild night; but
there was a moon behind the clouds, and it was not dark.
I was soon within sight of Mr. Peggotty's house, and of the light within
it shining through the window. A little floundering across the sand,
which was heavy, brought me to the door, and I went in.
It looked very comfortable indeed. Mr. Peggotty had smoked his evening
pipe and there were preparations for some supper by and by. The fire was
bright, the ashes were thrown up, the locker was ready for little Emily
in her old place. In her own old place sat Peggotty, once more, looking
(but for her dress) as if she had never left it. She had fallen back,
already, on the society of the work-box with St. Paul's upon the lid,
the yard-measure in the cottage, and the bit of wax-candle; and there
they all were, just as if they had never been disturbed. Mrs. Gummidge
appeared to be fretting a little, in her old corner; and consequently
looked quite natural, too.
'You're first of the lot, Mas'r Davy! ' said Mr. Peggotty with a happy
face. 'Doen't keep in that coat, sir, if it's wet. '
'Thank you, Mr. Peggotty,' said I, giving him my outer coat to hang up.
'It's quite dry. '
'So 'tis! ' said Mr. Peggotty, feeling my shoulders. 'As a chip! Sit ye
down, sir. It ain't o' no use saying welcome to you, but you're welcome,
kind and hearty. '
'Thank you, Mr. Peggotty, I am sure of that. Well, Peggotty! ' said I,
giving her a kiss. 'And how are you, old woman? '
'Ha, ha! ' laughed Mr. Peggotty, sitting down beside us, and rubbing his
hands in his sense of relief from recent trouble, and in the genuine
heartiness of his nature; 'there's not a woman in the wureld, sir--as I
tell her--that need to feel more easy in her mind than her! She done her
dooty by the departed, and the departed know'd it; and the departed
done what was right by her, as she done what was right by the
departed;--and--and--and it's all right! '
Mrs. Gummidge groaned.
'Cheer up, my pritty mawther! ' said Mr. Peggotty. (But he shook his head
aside at us, evidently sensible of the tendency of the late occurrences
to recall the memory of the old one. ) 'Doen't be down! Cheer up, for
your own self, on'y a little bit, and see if a good deal more doen't
come nat'ral! '
'Not to me, Dan'l,' returned Mrs. Gummidge. 'Nothink's nat'ral to me but
to be lone and lorn. '
'No, no,' said Mr. Peggotty, soothing her sorrows.
'Yes, yes, Dan'l! ' said Mrs. Gummidge. 'I ain't a person to live with
them as has had money left. Thinks go too contrary with me. I had better
be a riddance. '
'Why, how should I ever spend it without you? ' said Mr. Peggotty, with
an air of serious remonstrance. 'What are you a talking on? Doen't I
want you more now, than ever I did? '
'I know'd I was never wanted before! ' cried Mrs. Gummidge, with a
pitiable whimper, 'and now I'm told so! How could I expect to be wanted,
being so lone and lorn, and so contrary! '
Mr. Peggotty seemed very much shocked at himself for having made a
speech capable of this unfeeling construction, but was prevented from
replying, by Peggotty's pulling his sleeve, and shaking her head. After
looking at Mrs. Gummidge for some moments, in sore distress of mind, he
glanced at the Dutch clock, rose, snuffed the candle, and put it in the
window.
'Theer! 'said Mr. Peggotty, cheerily. 'Theer we are, Missis Gummidge! '
Mrs. Gummidge slightly groaned. 'Lighted up, accordin' to custom! You're
a wonderin' what that's fur, sir! Well, it's fur our little Em'ly. You
see, the path ain't over light or cheerful arter dark; and when I'm
here at the hour as she's a comin' home, I puts the light in the winder.
That, you see,' said Mr. Peggotty, bending over me with great glee,
'meets two objects. She says, says Em'ly, "Theer's home! " she says. And
likewise, says Em'ly, "My uncle's theer! " Fur if I ain't theer, I never
have no light showed. '
'You're a baby! ' said Peggotty; very fond of him for it, if she thought
so.
'Well,' returned Mr. Peggotty, standing with his legs pretty wide apart,
and rubbing his hands up and down them in his comfortable satisfaction,
as he looked alternately at us and at the fire. 'I doen't know but I am.
Not, you see, to look at. '
'Not azackly,' observed Peggotty.
'No,' laughed Mr. Peggotty, 'not to look at, but to--to consider on, you
know. I doen't care, bless you! Now I tell you. When I go a looking and
looking about that theer pritty house of our Em'ly's, I'm--I'm Gormed,'
said Mr. Peggotty, with sudden emphasis--'theer! I can't say more--if
I doen't feel as if the littlest things was her, a'most. I takes 'em up
and I put 'em down, and I touches of 'em as delicate as if they was our
Em'ly. So 'tis with her little bonnets and that. I couldn't see one on
'em rough used a purpose--not fur the whole wureld. There's a babby fur
you, in the form of a great Sea Porkypine! ' said Mr. Peggotty, relieving
his earnestness with a roar of laughter.
Peggotty and I both laughed, but not so loud.
'It's my opinion, you see,' said Mr. Peggotty, with a delighted face,
after some further rubbing of his legs, 'as this is along of my havin'
played with her so much, and made believe as we was Turks, and French,
and sharks, and every wariety of forinners--bless you, yes; and lions
and whales, and I doen't know what all! --when she warn't no higher than
my knee. I've got into the way on it, you know. Why, this here candle,
now! ' said Mr. Peggotty, gleefully holding out his hand towards it,
'I know wery well that arter she's married and gone, I shall put that
candle theer, just the same as now. I know wery well that when I'm
here o' nights (and where else should I live, bless your arts, whatever
fortun' I come into! ) and she ain't here or I ain't theer, I shall
put the candle in the winder, and sit afore the fire, pretending I'm
expecting of her, like I'm a doing now. THERE'S a babby for you,' said
Mr. Peggotty, with another roar, 'in the form of a Sea Porkypine! Why,
at the present minute, when I see the candle sparkle up, I says to
myself, "She's a looking at it! Em'ly's a coming! " THERE'S a babby
for you, in the form of a Sea Porkypine! Right for all that,' said Mr.
Peggotty, stopping in his roar, and smiting his hands together; 'fur
here she is! '
It was only Ham. The night should have turned more wet since I came in,
for he had a large sou'wester hat on, slouched over his face.
