Martin Chuzzlewit

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  HAS AN INFLUENCE ON THE FORTUNES OF SEVERAL PEOPLE. MR PECKSNIFF ISEXHIBITED IN THE PLENITUDE OF POWER; AND WIELDS THE SAME WITH FORTITUDEAND MAGNANIMITY

  On the night of the storm, Mrs Lupin, hostess of the Blue Dragon, sat byherself in her little bar. Her solitary condition, or the bad weather,or both united, made Mrs Lupin thoughtful, not to say sorrowful. As shesat with her chin upon her hand, looking out through a low back lattice,rendered dim in the brightest day-time by clustering vine-leaves, sheshook her head very often, and said, 'Dear me! Oh, dear, dear me!'

  It was a melancholy time, even in the snugness of the Dragon bar.The rich expanse of corn-field, pasture-land, green slope, and gentleundulation, with its sparkling brooks, its many hedgerows, and itsclumps of beautiful trees, was black and dreary, from the diamond panesof the lattice away to the far horizon, where the thunder seemed to rollalong the hills. The heavy rain beat down the tender branches of vineand jessamine, and trampled on them in its fury; and when the lightninggleamed it showed the tearful leaves shivering and cowering together atthe window, and tapping at it urgently, as if beseeching to be shelteredfrom the dismal night.

  As a mark of her respect for the lightning, Mrs Lupin had removed hercandle to the chimney-piece. Her basket of needle-work stood unheededat her elbow; her supper, spread on a round table not far off, wasuntasted; and the knives had been removed for fear of attraction. Shehad sat for a long time with her chin upon her hand, saying to herselfat intervals, 'Dear me! Ah, dear, dear me!'

  She was on the eve of saying so, once more, when the latch of thehouse-door (closed to keep the rain out), rattled on its well-worncatch, and a traveller came in, who, shutting it after him, and walkingstraight up to the half-door of the bar, said, rather gruffly:

  'A pint of the best old beer here.'

  He had some reason to be gruff, for if he had passed the day in awaterfall, he could scarcely have been wetter than he was. He waswrapped up to the eyes in a rough blue sailor's coat, and had anoil-skin hat on, from the capacious brim of which the rain felltrickling down upon his breast, and back, and shoulders. Judging from acertain liveliness of chin--he had so pulled down his hat, and pulled uphis collar, to defend himself from the weather, that she could onlysee his chin, and even across that he drew the wet sleeve of his shaggycoat, as she looked at him--Mrs Lupin set him down for a good-naturedfellow, too.

  'A bad night!' observed the hostess cheerfully.

  The traveller shook himself like a Newfoundland dog, and said it was,rather.

  'There's a fire in the kitchen,' said Mrs Lupin, 'and very good companythere. Hadn't you better go and dry yourself?'

  'No, thankee,' said the man, glancing towards the kitchen as he spoke;he seemed to know the way.

  'It's enough to give you your death of cold,' observed the hostess.

  'I don't take my death easy,' returned the traveller; 'or I should mostlikely have took it afore to-night. Your health, ma'am!'

  Mrs Lupin thanked him; but in the act of lifting the tankard to hismouth, he changed his mind, and put it down again. Throwing his bodyback, and looking about him stiffly, as a man does who is wrapped up,and has his hat low down over his eyes, he said:

  'What do you call this house? Not the Dragon, do you?'

  Mrs Lupin complacently made answer, 'Yes, the Dragon.'

  'Why, then, you've got a sort of a relation of mine here, ma'am,' saidthe traveller; 'a young man of the name of Tapley. What! Mark, my boy!'apostrophizing the premises, 'have I come upon you at last, old buck!'

  This was touching Mrs Lupin on a tender point. She turned to trimthe candle on the chimney-piece, and said, with her back towards thetraveller:

  'Nobody should be made more welcome at the Dragon, master, than any onewho brought me news of Mark. But it's many and many a long day and monthsince he left here and England. And whether he's alive or dead, poorfellow, Heaven above us only knows!'

  She shook her head, and her voice trembled; her hand must have done sotoo, for the light required a deal of trimming.

  'Where did he go, ma'am?' asked the traveller, in a gentler voice.

  'He went,' said Mrs Lupin, with increased distress, 'to America. He wasalways tender-hearted and kind, and perhaps at this moment may be lyingin prison under sentence of death, for taking pity on some miserableblack, and helping the poor runaway creetur to escape. How could he evergo to America! Why didn't he go to some of those countries where thesavages eat each other fairly, and give an equal chance to every one!'

  Quite subdued by this time, Mrs Lupin sobbed, and was retiring to achair to give her grief free vent, when the traveller caught her in hisarms, and she uttered a glad cry of recognition.

  'Yes, I will!' cried Mark, 'another--one more--twenty more! Youdidn't know me in that hat and coat? I thought you would have known meanywheres! Ten more!'

  'So I should have known you, if I could have seen you; but I couldn't,and you spoke so gruff. I didn't think you could speak gruff to me,Mark, at first coming back.'

  'Fifteen more!' said Mr Tapley. 'How handsome and how young you look!Six more! The last half-dozen warn't a fair one, and must be done overagain. Lord bless you, what a treat it is to see you! One more! Well, Inever was so jolly. Just a few more, on account of there not being anycredit in it!'

  When Mr Tapley stopped in these calculations in simple addition, he didit, not because he was at all tired of the exercise, but because he wasout of breath. The pause reminded him of other duties.

  'Mr Martin Chuzzlewit's outside,' he said. 'I left him under thecartshed, while I came on to see if there was anybody here. We want tokeep quiet to-night, till we know the news from you, and what it's bestfor us to do.'

  'There's not a soul in the house, except the kitchen company,' returnedthe hostess. 'If they were to know you had come back, Mark, they'd havea bonfire in the street, late as it is.'

  'But they mustn't know it to-night, my precious soul,' said Mark; 'sohave the house shut, and the kitchen fire made up; and when it's allready, put a light in the winder, and we'll come in. One more! I longto hear about old friends. You'll tell me all about 'em, won't you; MrPinch, and the butcher's dog down the street, and the terrier over theway, and the wheelwright's, and every one of 'em. When I first caughtsight of the church to-night, I thought the steeple would have chokedme, I did. One more! Won't you? Not a very little one to finish offwith?'

  'You have had plenty, I am sure,' said the hostess. 'Go along with yourforeign manners!'

  'That ain't foreign, bless you!' cried Mark. 'Native as oysters, thatis! One more, because it's native! As a mark of respect for the land welive in! This don't count as between you and me, you understand,' saidMr Tapley. 'I ain't a-kissing you now, you'll observe. I have been amongthe patriots; I'm a-kissin' my country.'

  It would have been very unreasonable to complain of the exhibition ofhis patriotism with which he followed up this explanation, that it wasat all lukewarm or indifferent. When he had given full expression to hisnationality, he hurried off to Martin; while Mrs Lupin, in a state ofgreat agitation and excitement, prepared for their reception.

  The company soon came tumbling out; insisting to each other that theDragon clock was half an hour too fast, and that the thunder must haveaffected it. Impatient, wet, and weary though they were, Martin and Markwere overjoyed to see these old faces, and watched them with delightedinterest as they departed from the house, and passed close by them.

  'There's the old tailor, Mark!' whispered Martin.

  'There he goes, sir! A little bandier than he was, I think, sir, ain'the? His figure's so far altered, as it seems to me, that you might wheela rather larger barrow between his legs as he walks, than you could havedone conveniently when we know'd him. There's Sam a-coming out, sir.'

  'Ah, to be sure!' cried Martin; 'Sam, the hostler. I wonder whether thathorse of Pecksniff's is alive still?'

  'Not a doubt on it, sir,' returned Mark. 'That's a description ofanimal, sir, as will go o
n in a bony way peculiar to himself for a longtime, and get into the newspapers at last under the title of "Sing'larTenacity of Life in a Quadruped." As if he had ever been alive in allhis life, worth mentioning! There's the clerk, sir--wery drunk, asusual.'

  'I see him!' said Martin, laughing. 'But, my life, how wet you are,Mark!'

  'I am! What do you consider yourself, sir?'

  'Oh, not half as bad,' said his fellow-traveller, with an air of greatvexation. 'I told you not to keep on the windy side, Mark, but to let uschange and change about. The rain has been beating on you ever since itbegan.'

  'You don't know how it pleases me, sir,' said Mark, after a shortsilence, 'if I may make so bold as say so, to hear you a-going on inthat there uncommon considerate way of yours; which I don't mean toattend to, never, but which, ever since that time when I was floored inEden, you have showed.'

  'Ah, Mark!' sighed Martin, 'the less we say of that the better. Do I seethe light yonder?'

  'That's the light!' cried Mark. 'Lord bless her, what briskness shepossesses! Now for it, sir. Neat wines, good beds, and first-rateentertainment for man or beast.'

  The kitchen fire burnt clear and red, the table was spread out, thekettle boiled; the slippers were there, the boot-jack too, sheets ofham were there, cooking on the gridiron; half-a-dozen eggs were there,poaching in the frying-pan; a plethoric cherry-brandy bottle was there,winking at a foaming jug of beer upon the table; rare provisions werethere, dangling from the rafters as if you had only to open your mouth,and something exquisitely ripe and good would be glad of the excuse fortumbling into it. Mrs Lupin, who for their sakes had dislodged thevery cook, high priestess of the temple, with her own genial hands wasdressing their repast.

  It was impossible to help it--a ghost must have hugged her. The AtlanticOcean and the Red Sea being, in that respect, all one, Martin huggedher instantly. Mr Tapley (as if the idea were quite novel, and had neveroccurred to him before), followed, with much gravity, on the same side.

  'Little did I ever think,' said Mrs Lupin, adjusting her cap andlaughing heartily; yes, and blushing too; 'often as I have said that MrPecksniff's young gentlemen were the life and soul of the Dragon, andthat without them it would be too dull to live in--little did I everthink I am sure, that any one of them would ever make so free as you, MrMartin! And still less that I shouldn't be angry with him, but should beglad with all my heart to be the first to welcome him home from America,with Mark Tapley for his--'

  'For his friend, Mrs Lupin,' interposed Martin.

  'For his friend,' said the hostess, evidently gratified by thisdistinction, but at the same time admonishing Mr Tapley with a forkto remain at a respectful distance. 'Little did I ever think that! Butstill less, that I should ever have the changes to relate that I shallhave to tell you of, when you have done your supper!'

  'Good Heaven!' cried Martin, changing colour, 'what changes?'

  'SHE,' said the hostess, 'is quite well, and now at Mr Pecksniff's.Don't be at all alarmed about her. She is everything you could wish.It's of no use mincing matters, or making secrets, is it?' added MrsLupin. 'I know all about it, you see!'

  'My good creature,' returned Martin, 'you are exactly the person whoought to know all about it. I am delighted to think you DO know aboutthat! But what changes do you hint at? Has any death occurred?'

  'No, no!' said the hostess. 'Not as bad as that. But I declare now thatI will not be drawn into saying another word till you have had yoursupper. If you ask me fifty questions in the meantime, I won't answerone.'

  She was so positive, that there was nothing for it but to get the supperover as quickly as possible; and as they had been walking a great manymiles, and had fasted since the middle of the day, they did no greatviolence to their own inclinations in falling on it tooth and nail. Ittook rather longer to get through than might have been expected; for,half-a-dozen times, when they thought they had finished, Mrs Lupinexposed the fallacy of that impression triumphantly. But at last, inthe course of time and nature, they gave in. Then, sitting withtheir slippered feet stretched out upon the kitchen hearth (which waswonderfully comforting, for the night had grown by this time raw andchilly), and looking with involuntary admiration at their dimpled,buxom, blooming hostess, as the firelight sparkled in her eyes andglimmered in her raven hair, they composed themselves to listen to hernews.

  Many were the exclamations of surprise which interrupted her, when shetold them of the separation between Mr Pecksniff and his daughters, andbetween the same good gentleman and Mr Pinch. But these were nothing tothe indignant demonstrations of Martin, when she related, as the commontalk of the neighbourhood, what entire possession he had obtainedover the mind and person of old Mr Chuzzlewit, and what high honour hedesigned for Mary. On receipt of this intelligence, Martin's slippersflew off in a twinkling, and he began pulling on his wet boots with thatindefinite intention of going somewhere instantly, and doing somethingto somebody, which is the first safety-valve of a hot temper.

  'He!' said Martin, 'smooth-tongued villain that he is! He! Give me thatother boot, Mark?'

  'Where was you a-thinking of going to, sir?' inquired Mr Tapley dryingthe sole at the fire, and looking coolly at it as he spoke, as if itwere a slice of toast.

  'Where!' repeated Martin. 'You don't suppose I am going to remain here,do you?'

  The imperturbable Mark confessed that he did.

  You do!' retorted Martin angrily. 'I am much obliged to you. What do youtake me for?'

  'I take you for what you are, sir,' said Mark; 'and, consequently, amquite sure that whatever you do will be right and sensible. The boot,sir.'

  Martin darted an impatient look at him, without taking it, and walkedrapidly up and down the kitchen several times, with one boot and astocking on. But, mindful of his Eden resolution, he had already gainedmany victories over himself when Mark was in the case, and he resolvedto conquer now. So he came back to the book-jack, laid his hand onMark's shoulder to steady himself, pulled the boot off, picked up hisslippers, put them on, and sat down again. He could not help thrustinghis hands to the very bottom of his pockets, and muttering at intervals,'Pecksniff too! That fellow! Upon my soul! In-deed! What next?' and soforth; nor could he help occasionally shaking his fist at the chimney,with a very threatening countenance; but this did not last long; and heheard Mrs Lupin out, if not with composure, at all events in silence.

  'As to Mr Pecksniff himself,' observed the hostess in conclusion,spreading out the skirts of her gown with both hands, and noddingher head a great many times as she did so, 'I don't know what tosay. Somebody must have poisoned his mind, or influenced him in someextraordinary way. I cannot believe that such a noble-spoken gentlemanwould go and do wrong of his own accord!'

  A noble-spoken gentleman! How many people are there in the world, who,for no better reason, uphold their Pecksniffs to the last and abandonvirtuous men, when Pecksniffs breathe upon them!

  'As to Mr Pinch,' pursued the landlady, 'if ever there was a dear, good,pleasant, worthy soul alive, Pinch, and no other, is his name. Buthow do we know that old Mr Chuzzlewit himself was not the cause ofdifference arising between him and Mr Pecksniff? No one but themselvescan tell; for Mr Pinch has a proud spirit, though he has such a quietway; and when he left us, and was so sorry to go, he scorned to make hisstory good, even to me.'

  'Poor old Tom!' said Martin, in a tone that sounded like remorse.

  'It's a comfort to know,' resumed the landlady, 'that he has his sisterliving with him, and is doing well. Only yesterday he sent me back, bypost, a little'--here the colour came into her cheeks--'a little trifleI was bold enough to lend him when he went away; saying, with manythanks, that he had good employment, and didn't want it. It was the samenote; he hadn't broken it. I never thought I could have been so littlepleased to see a bank-note come back to me as I was to see that.'

  'Kindly said, and heartily!' said Martin. 'Is it not, Mark?'

  'She can't say anything as does not possess them qualities,' returnedMr Tapley; 'which a
s much belongs to the Dragon as its licence. And nowthat we have got quite cool and fresh, to the subject again, sir;what will you do? If you're not proud, and can make up your mind to gothrough with what you spoke of, coming along, that's the course foryou to take. If you started wrong with your grandfather (which, you'llexcuse my taking the liberty of saying, appears to have been the case),up with you, sir, and tell him so, and make an appeal to his affections.Don't stand out. He's a great deal older than you, and if he was hasty,you was hasty too. Give way, sir, give way.'

  The eloquence of Mr Tapley was not without its effect on Martin but hestill hesitated, and expressed his reason thus:

  'That's all very true, and perfectly correct, Mark; and if it were amere question of humbling myself before HIM, I would not consider ittwice. But don't you see, that being wholly under this hypocrite'sgovernment, and having (if what we hear be true) no mind or will of hisown, I throw myself, in fact, not at his feet, but at the feet ofMr Pecksniff? And when I am rejected and spurned away,' said Martin,turning crimson at the thought, 'it is not by him; my own blood stirredagainst me; but by Pecksniff--Pecksniff, Mark!'

  'Well, but we know beforehand,' returned the politic Mr Tapley, 'thatPecksniff is a wagabond, a scoundrel, and a willain.'

  'A most pernicious villain!' said Martin.

  'A most pernicious willain. We know that beforehand, sir; and,consequently, it's no shame to be defeated by Pecksniff. BlowPecksniff!' cried Mr Tapley, in the fervour of his eloquence. 'Who's he!It's not in the natur of Pecksniff to shame US, unless he agreed withus, or done us a service; and, in case he offered any audacity of thatdescription, we could express our sentiments in the English language,I hope. Pecksniff!' repeated Mr Tapley, with ineffable disdain. 'What'sPecksniff, who's Pecksniff, where's Pecksniff, that he's to be so muchconsidered? We're not a-calculating for ourselves;' he laid uncommonemphasis on the last syllable of that word, and looked full in Martin'sface; 'we're making a effort for a young lady likewise as has undergoneher share; and whatever little hope we have, this here Pecksniff is notto stand in its way, I expect. I never heard of any act of Parliament,as was made by Pecksniff. Pecksniff! Why, I wouldn't see the man myself;I wouldn't hear him; I wouldn't choose to know he was in company. I'dscrape my shoes on the scraper of the door, and call that Pecksniff, ifyou liked; but I wouldn't condescend no further.'

  The amazement of Mrs Lupin, and indeed of Mr Tapley himself for thatmatter, at this impassioned flow of language, was immense. But Martin,after looking thoughtfully at the fire for a short time, said:

  'You are right, Mark. Right or wrong, it shall be done. I'll do it.'

  'One word more, sir,' returned Mark. 'Only think of him so far as not togive him a handle against you. Don't you do anything secret that hecan report before you get there. Don't you even see Miss Mary in themorning, but let this here dear friend of ours'--Mr Tapley bestowed asmile upon the hostess--'prepare her for what's a-going to happen, andcarry any little message as may be agreeable. She knows how. Don't you?'Mrs Lupin laughed and tossed her head. 'Then you go in, bold and free asa gentleman should. "I haven't done nothing under-handed," says you. "Ihaven't been skulking about the premises, here I am, for-give me, I askyour pardon, God Bless You!"'

  Martin smiled, but felt that it was good advice notwithstanding, andresolved to act upon it. When they had ascertained from Mrs Lupin thatPecksniff had already returned from the great ceremonial at which theyhad beheld him in his glory; and when they had fully arranged the orderof their proceedings; they went to bed, intent upon the morrow.

  In pursuance of their project as agreed upon at this discussion, MrTapley issued forth next morning, after breakfast, charged with a letterfrom Martin to his grandfather, requesting leave to wait upon him for afew minutes. And postponing as he went along the congratulations of hisnumerous friends until a more convenient season, he soon arrived at MrPecksniff's house. At that gentleman's door; with a face so immovablethat it would have been next to an impossibility for the most acutephysiognomist to determine what he was thinking about, or whether he wasthinking at all; he straightway knocked.

  A person of Mr Tapley's observation could not long remain insensibleto the fact that Mr Pecksniff was making the end of his nose veryblunt against the glass of the parlour window, in an angular attempt todiscover who had knocked at the door. Nor was Mr Tapley slow to bafflethis movement on the part of the enemy, by perching himself on thetop step, and presenting the crown of his hat in that direction. Butpossibly Mr Pecksniff had already seen him, for Mark soon heard hisshoes creaking, as he advanced to open the door with his own hands.

  Mr Pecksniff was as cheerful as ever, and sang a little song in thepassage.

  'How d'ye do, sir?' said Mark.

  'Oh!' cried Mr Pecksniff. 'Tapley, I believe? The Prodigal returned! Wedon't want any beer, my friend.'

  'Thankee, sir,' said Mark. 'I couldn't accommodate you if you did. Aletter, sir. Wait for an answer.'

  'For me?' cried Mr Pecksniff. 'And an answer, eh?'

  'Not for you, I think, sir,' said Mark, pointing out the direction.'Chuzzlewit, I believe the name is, sir.'

  'Oh!' returned Mr Pecksniff. 'Thank you. Yes. Who's it from, my goodyoung man?'

  'The gentleman it comes from wrote his name inside, sir,' returned MrTapley with extreme politeness. 'I see him a-signing of it at the end,while I was a-waitin'.'

  'And he said he wanted an answer, did he?' asked Mr Pecksniff in hismost persuasive manner.

  Mark replied in the affirmative.

  'He shall have an answer. Certainly,' said Mr Pecksniff, tearing theletter into small pieces, as mildly as if that were the most flatteringattention a correspondent could receive. 'Have the goodness to give himthat, with my compliments, if you please. Good morning!' Whereupon hehanded Mark the scraps; retired, and shut the door.

  Mark thought it prudent to subdue his personal emotions, and return toMartin at the Dragon. They were not unprepared for such a reception,and suffered an hour or so to elapse before making another attempt.When this interval had gone by, they returned to Mr Pecksniff's house incompany. Martin knocked this time, while Mr Tapley prepared himself tokeep the door open with his foot and shoulder, when anybody came, and bythat means secure an enforced parley. But this precaution was needless,for the servant-girl appeared almost immediately. Brushing quickly pasther as he had resolved in such a case to do, Martin (closely followedby his faithful ally) opened the door of that parlour in which he knewa visitor was most likely to be found; passed at once into the room; andstood, without a word of notice or announcement, in the presence of hisgrandfather.

  Mr Pecksniff also was in the room; and Mary. In the swift instant oftheir mutual recognition, Martin saw the old man droop his grey head,and hide his face in his hands.

  It smote him to the heart. In his most selfish and most careless day,this lingering remnant of the old man's ancient love, this buttress of aruined tower he had built up in the time gone by, with so much pride andhope, would have caused a pang in Martin's heart. But now, changed forthe better in his worst respect; looking through an altered medium onhis former friend, the guardian of his childhood, so broken and boweddown; resentment, sullenness, self-confidence, and pride, were all sweptaway, before the starting tears upon the withered cheeks. He could notbear to see them. He could not bear to think they fell at sight ofhim. He could not bear to view reflected in them, the reproachful andirrevocable Past.

  He hurriedly advanced to seize the old man's hand in his, when MrPecksniff interposed himself between them.

  'No, young man!' said Mr Pecksniff, striking himself upon the breast,and stretching out his other arm towards his guest as if it were a wingto shelter him. 'No, sir. None of that. Strike here, sir, here! Launchyour arrows at me, sir, if you'll have the goodness; not at Him!'

  'Grandfather!' cried Martin. 'Hear me! I implore you, let me speak!'

  'Would you, sir? Would you?' said Mr Pecksniff, dodging about, so as tokeep himself always between them. 'Is it not e
nough, sir, that you comeinto my house like a thief in the night, or I should rather say, for wecan never be too particular on the subject of Truth, like a thief inthe day-time; bringing your dissolute companions with you, to plantthemselves with their backs against the insides of parlour doors, andprevent the entrance or issuing forth of any of my household'--Mark hadtaken up this position, and held it quite unmoved--'but would you alsostrike at venerable Virtue? Would you? Know that it is not defenceless.I will be its shield, young man. Assail me. Come on, sir. Fire away!'

  'Pecksniff,' said the old man, in a feeble voice. 'Calm yourself. Bequiet.'

  'I can't be calm,' cried Mr Pecksniff, 'and I won't be quiet. Mybenefactor and my friend! Shall even my house be no refuge for yourhoary pillow!'

  'Stand aside!' said the old man, stretching out his hand; 'and let mesee what it is I used to love so dearly.'

  'It is right that you should see it, my friend,' said Mr Pecksniff. 'Itis well that you should see it, my noble sir. It is desirable that youshould contemplate it in its true proportions. Behold it! There it is,sir. There it is!'

  Martin could hardly be a mortal man, and not express in his facesomething of the anger and disdain with which Mr Pecksniff inspired him.But beyond this he evinced no knowledge whatever of that gentleman'spresence or existence. True, he had once, and that at first, glanced athim involuntarily, and with supreme contempt; but for any other heed hetook of him, there might have been nothing in his place save empty air.

  As Mr Pecksniff withdrew from between them, agreeably to the wish justnow expressed (which he did during the delivery of the observationslast recorded), old Martin, who had taken Mary Graham's hand in his, andwhispered kindly to her, as telling her she had no cause to be alarmed,gently pushed her from him, behind his chair; and looked steadily at hisgrandson.

  'And that,' he said, 'is he. Ah! that is he! Say what you wish to say.But come no nearer,'

  'His sense of justice is so fine,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'that he willhear even him, although he knows beforehand that nothing can come of it.Ingenuous mind!' Mr Pecksniff did not address himself immediately toany person in saying this, but assuming the position of the Chorus in aGreek Tragedy, delivered his opinion as a commentary on the proceedings.

  'Grandfather!' said Martin, with great earnestness. 'From a painfuljourney, from a hard life, from a sick-bed, from privation and distress,from gloom and disappointment, from almost hopelessness and despair, Ihave come back to you.'

  'Rovers of this sort,' observed Mr Pecksniff, as Chorus, 'very commonlycome back when they find they don't meet with the success they expectedin their marauding ravages.'

  'But for this faithful man,' said Martin, turning towards Mark, 'whomI first knew in this place, and who went away with me voluntarily, asa servant, but has been, throughout, my zealous and devoted friend; butfor him, I must have died abroad. Far from home, far from any help orconsolation; far from the probability even of my wretched fate beingever known to any one who cared to hear it--oh, that you would let mesay, of being known to you!'

  The old man looked at Mr Pecksniff. Mr Pecksniff looked at him. 'Didyou speak, my worthy sir?' said Mr Pecksniff, with a smile. The old mananswered in the negative. 'I know what you thought,' said Mr Pecksniff,with another smile. 'Let him go on my friend. The development ofself-interest in the human mind is always a curious study. Let him goon, sir.'

  'Go on!' observed the old man; in a mechanical obedience, it appeared,to Mr Pecksniff's suggestion.

  'I have been so wretched and so poor,' said Martin, 'that I am indebtedto the charitable help of a stranger, in a land of strangers, for themeans of returning here. All this tells against me in your mind, I know.I have given you cause to think I have been driven here wholly by want,and have not been led on, in any degree, by affection or regret. WhenI parted from you, Grandfather, I deserved that suspicion, but I do notnow. I do not now.'

  The Chorus put its hand in its waistcoat, and smiled. 'Let him go on,my worthy sir,' it said. 'I know what you are thinking of, but don'texpress it prematurely.'

  Old Martin raised his eyes to Mr Pecksniff's face, and appearing toderive renewed instruction from his looks and words, said, once again:

  'Go on!'

  'I have little more to say,' returned Martin. 'And as I say it now, withlittle or no hope, Grandfather; whatever dawn of hope I had on enteringthe room; believe it to be true. At least, believe it to be true.'

  'Beautiful Truth!' exclaimed the Chorus, looking upward. 'How is yourname profaned by vicious persons! You don't live in a well, my holyprinciple, but on the lips of false mankind. It is hard to bear withmankind, dear sir'--addressing the elder Mr Chuzzlewit; 'but let us doso meekly. It is our duty so to do. Let us be among the Few who do theirduty. If,' pursued the Chorus, soaring up into a lofty flight, 'as thepoet informs us, England expects Every man to do his duty, England isthe most sanguine country on the face of the earth, and will find itselfcontinually disappointed.'

  'Upon that subject,' said Martin, looking calmly at the old man ashe spoke, but glancing once at Mary, whose face was now buried in herhands, upon the back of his easy-chair; 'upon that subject which firstoccasioned a division between us, my mind and heart are incapable ofchange. Whatever influence they have undergone, since that unhappy time,has not been one to weaken but to strengthen me. I cannot profess sorrowfor that, nor irresolution in that, nor shame in that. Nor would youwish me, I know. But that I might have trusted to your love, if I hadthrown myself manfully upon it; that I might have won you over withease, if I had been more yielding and more considerate; that I shouldhave best remembered myself in forgetting myself, and recollecting you;reflection, solitude, and misery, have taught me. I came resolved to saythis, and to ask your forgiveness; not so much in hope for the future,as in regret for the past; for all that I would ask of you is, that youwould aid me to live. Help me to get honest work to do, and I would doit. My condition places me at the disadvantage of seeming to have onlymy selfish ends to serve, but try if that be so or not. Try if I beself-willed, obdurate, and haughty, as I was; or have been disciplinedin a rough school. Let the voice of nature and association plead betweenus, Grandfather; and do not, for one fault, however thankless, quitereject me!'

  As he ceased, the grey head of the old man drooped again; and heconcealed his face behind his outspread fingers.

  'My dear sir,' cried Mr Pecksniff, bending over him, 'you must not giveway to this. It is very natural, and very amiable, but you must notallow the shameless conduct of one whom you long ago cast off, to moveyou so far. Rouse yourself. Think,' said Pecksniff, 'think of Me, myfriend.'

  'I will,' returned old Martin, looking up into his face. 'You recall meto myself. I will.'

  'Why, what,' said Mr Pecksniff, sitting down beside him in a chair whichhe drew up for the purpose, and tapping him playfully on the arm, 'whatis the matter with my strong-minded compatriot, if I may venture to takethe liberty of calling him by that endearing expression? Shall I haveto scold my coadjutor, or to reason with an intellect like this? I thinknot.'

  'No, no. There is no occasion,' said the old man. 'A momentary feeling.Nothing more.'

  'Indignation,' observed Mr Pecksniff, 'WILL bring the scalding tearinto the honest eye, I know'--he wiped his own elaborately. 'But wehave highest duties to perform than that. Rouse yourself, Mr Chuzzlewit.Shall I give expression to your thoughts, my friend?'

  'Yes,' said old Martin, leaning back in his chair, and looking at him,half in vacancy and half in admiration, as if he were fascinated bythe man. 'Speak for me, Pecksniff, Thank you. You are true to me. Thankyou!'

  'Do not unman me, sir,' said Mr Pecksniff, shaking his hand vigorously,'or I shall be unequal to the task. It is not agreeable to my feelings,my good sir, to address the person who is now before us, for when Iejected him from this house, after hearing of his unnatural conduct fromyour lips, I renounced communication with him for ever. But you desireit; and that is sufficient. Young man! The door is immediately behindthe companion of you
r infamy. Blush if you can; begone without a blush,if you can't.'

  Martin looked as steadily at his grandfather as if there had been adead silence all this time. The old man looked no less steadily at MrPecksniff.

  'When I ordered you to leave this house upon the last occasion of yourbeing dismissed from it with disgrace,' said Mr Pecksniff; 'when,stung and stimulated beyond endurance by your shameless conduct to thisextraordinarily noble-minded individual, I exclaimed "Go forth!" I toldyou that I wept for your depravity. Do not suppose that the tear whichstands in my eye at this moment, is shed for you. It is shed for him,sir. It is shed for him.'

  Here Mr Pecksniff, accidentally dropping the tear in question on abald part of Mr Chuzzlewit's head, wiped the place with hispocket-handkerchief, and begged pardon.

  'It is shed for him, sir, whom you seek to make the victim of yourarts,' said Mr Pecksniff; 'whom you seek to plunder, to deceive, and tomislead. It is shed in sympathy with him, and admiration of him; not inpity for him, for happily he knows what you are. You shall not wronghim further, sir, in any way,' said Mr Pecksniff, quite transported withenthusiasm, 'while I have life. You may bestride my senseless corse,sir. That is very likely. I can imagine a mind like yours deriving greatsatisfaction from any measure of that kind. But while I continue to becalled upon to exist, sir, you must strike at him through me. Awe!' saidMr Pecksniff, shaking his head at Martin with indignant jocularity; 'andin such a cause you will find me, my young sir, an Ugly Customer!'

  Still Martin looked steadily and mildly at his grandfather. 'Will yougive me no answer,' he said, at length, 'not a word?'

  'You hear what has been said,' replied the old man, without averting hiseyes from the face of Mr Pecksniff; who nodded encouragingly.

  'I have not heard your voice. I have not heard your spirit,' returnedMartin.

  'Tell him again,' said the old man, still gazing up in Mr Pecksniff'sface.

  'I only hear,' replied Martin, strong in his purpose from the first, andstronger in it as he felt how Pecksniff winced and shrunk beneath hiscontempt; 'I only hear what you say to me, grandfather.'

  Perhaps it was well for Mr Pecksniff that his venerable friend foundin his (Mr Pecksniff's) features an exclusive and engrossing objectof contemplation, for if his eyes had gone astray, and he had comparedyoung Martin's bearing with that of his zealous defender, the latterdisinterested gentleman would scarcely have shown to greater advantagethan on the memorable afternoon when he took Tom Pinch's last receiptin full of all demands. One really might have thought there was somequality in Mr Pecksniff--an emanation from the brightness and puritywithin him perhaps--which set off and adorned his foes; they looked sogallant and so manly beside him.

  'Not a word?' said Martin, for the second time.

  'I remember that I have a word to say, Pecksniff,' observed the old man.'But a word. You spoke of being indebted to the charitable help of somestranger for the means of returning to England. Who is he? And what helpin money did he render you?'

  Although he asked this question of Martin, he did not look towards him,but kept his eyes on Mr Pecksniff as before. It appeared to have becomea habit with him, both in a literal and figurative sense, to look to MrPecksniff alone.

  Martin took out his pencil, tore a leaf from his pocket-book, andhastily wrote down the particulars of his debt to Mr Bevan. The old manstretched out his hand for the paper, and took it; but his eyes did notwander from Mr Pecksniff's face.

  'It would be a poor pride and a false humility,' said Martin, in alow voice, 'to say, I do not wish that to be paid, or that I have anypresent hope of being able to pay it. But I never felt my poverty sodeeply as I feel it now.'

  'Read it to me, Pecksniff,' said the old man.

  Mr Pecksniff, after approaching the perusal of the paper as if it were amanuscript confession of a murder, complied.

  'I think, Pecksniff,' said old Martin, 'I could wish that to bedischarged. I should not like the lender, who was abroad, who hadno opportunity of making inquiry, and who did (as he thought) a kindaction, to suffer.'

  'An honourable sentiment, my dear sir. Your own entirely. But adangerous precedent,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'permit me to suggest.'

  'It shall not be a precedent,' returned the old man. 'It is the onlyrecognition of him. But we will talk of it again. You shall advise me.There is nothing else?'

  'Nothing else,' said Mr Pecksniff buoyantly, 'but for you to recoverthis intrusion--this cowardly and indefensible outrage on yourfeelings--with all possible dispatch, and smile again.'

  'You have nothing more to say?' inquired the old man, laying his handwith unusual earnestness on Mr Pecksniff's sleeve.

  Mr Pecksniff would not say what rose to his lips. For reproaches heobserved, were useless.

  'You have nothing at all to urge? You are sure of that! If you have, nomatter what it is, speak freely. I will oppose nothing that you ask ofme,' said the old man.

  The tears rose in such abundance to Mr Pecksniff's eyes at this proofof unlimited confidence on the part of his friend, that he was fain toclasp the bridge of his nose convulsively before he could at all composehimself. When he had the power of utterance again, he said with greatemotion, that he hoped he should live to deserve this; and added, thathe had no other observation whatever to make.

  For a few moments the old man sat looking at him, with that blank andmotionless expression which is not uncommon in the faces of those whosefaculties are on the wane, in age. But he rose up firmly too, and walkedtowards the door, from which Mark withdrew to make way for him.

  The obsequious Mr Pecksniff proffered his arm. The old man took it.Turning at the door, he said to Martin, waving him off with his hand,

  'You have heard him. Go away. It is all over. Go!'

  Mr Pecksniff murmured certain cheering expressions of sympathy andencouragement as they retired; and Martin, awakening from the stuporinto which the closing portion of this scene had plunged him, to theopportunity afforded by their departure, caught the innocent cause ofall in his embrace, and pressed her to his heart.

  'Dear girl!' said Martin. 'He has not changed you. Why, what an impotentand harmless knave the fellow is!'

  'You have restrained yourself so nobly! You have borne so much!'

  'Restrained myself!' cried Martin, cheerfully. 'You were by, and wereunchanged, I knew. What more advantage did I want? The sight of me wassuch a bitterness to the dog, that I had my triumph in his being forcedto endure it. But tell me, love--for the few hasty words we can exchangenow are precious--what is this which has been rumoured to me? Is it truethat you are persecuted by this knave's addresses?'

  'I was, dear Martin, and to some extent am now; but my chief sourceof unhappiness has been anxiety for you. Why did you leave us in suchterrible suspense?'

  'Sickness, distance; the dread of hinting at our real condition, theimpossibility of concealing it except in perfect silence; the knowledgethat the truth would have pained you infinitely more than uncertaintyand doubt,' said Martin, hurriedly; as indeed everything else was doneand said, in those few hurried moments, 'were the causes of my writingonly once. But Pecksniff? You needn't fear to tell me the whole tale;for you saw me with him face to face, hearing him speak, and not takinghim by the throat; what is the history of his pursuit of you? Is itknown to my grandfather?'

  'Yes.'

  'And he assists him in it?'

  'No,' she answered eagerly.

  'Thank Heaven!' cried Martin, 'that it leaves his mind unclouded in thatone respect!'

  'I do not think,' said Mary, 'it was known to him at first. Whenthis man had sufficiently prepared his mind, he revealed it to him bydegrees. I think so, but I only know it from my own impression: now fromanything they told me. Then he spoke to me alone.'

  'My grandfather did?' said Martin.

  'Yes--spoke to me alone, and told me--'

  'What the hound had said,' cried Martin. 'Don't repeat it.'

  'And said I knew well what qualities he possessed; that he wasmoderately rich;
in good repute; and high in his favour and confidence.But seeing me very much distressed, he said that he would not controlor force my inclinations, but would content himself with telling me thefact. He would not pain me by dwelling on it, or reverting to it; norhas he ever done so since, but has truly kept his word.'

  'The man himself?--' asked Martin.

  'He has had few opportunities of pursuing his suit. I have never walkedout alone, or remained alone an instant in his presence. Dear Martin, Imust tell you,' she continued, 'that the kindness of your grandfatherto me remains unchanged. I am his companion still. An indescribabletenderness and compassion seem to have mingled themselves with his oldregard; and if I were his only child, I could not have a gentler father.What former fancy or old habit survives in this, when his heart hasturned so cold to you, is a mystery I cannot penetrate; but it has been,and it is, a happiness to me, that I remained true to him; that if heshould wake from his delusion, even at the point of death, I am here,love, to recall you to his thoughts.'

  Martin looked with admiration on her glowing face, and pressed his lipsto hers.

  'I have sometimes heard, and read,' she said, 'that those whose powershad been enfeebled long ago, and whose lives had faded, as it were, intoa dream, have been known to rouse themselves before death, and inquirefor familiar faces once very dear to them; but forgotten, unrecognized,hated even, in the meantime. Think, if with his old impressions of thisman, he should suddenly resume his former self, and find in him his onlyfriend!'

  'I would not urge you to abandon him, dearest,' said Martin, 'though Icould count the years we are to wear out asunder. But the influence thisfellow exercises over him has steadily increased, I fear.'

  She could not help admitting that. Steadily, imperceptibly, and surely,until it was paramount and supreme. She herself had none; and yethe treated her with more affection than at any previous time. Martinthought the inconsistency a part of his weakness and decay.

  'Does the influence extend to fear?' said Martin. 'Is he timid ofasserting his own opinion in the presence of this infatuation? I fanciedso just now.'

  'I have thought so, often. Often when we are sitting alone, almost aswe used to do, and I have been reading a favourite book to him or he hasbeen talking quite cheerfully, I have observed that the entrance ofMr Pecksniff has changed his whole demeanour. He has broken offimmediately, and become what you have seen to-day. When we first camehere he had his impetuous outbreaks, in which it was not easy for MrPecksniff with his utmost plausibility to appease him. But these havelong since dwindled away. He defers to him in everything, and has noopinion upon any question, but that which is forced upon him by thistreacherous man.'

  Such was the account, rapidly furnished in whispers, and interrupted,brief as it was, by many false alarms of Mr Pecksniff's return;which Martin received of his grandfather's decline, and of that goodgentleman's ascendancy. He heard of Tom Pinch too, and Jonas too, withnot a little about himself into the bargain; for though lovers areremarkable for leaving a great deal unsaid on all occasions, and veryproperly desiring to come back and say it, they are remarkable also fora wonderful power of condensation, and can, in one way or other, giveutterance to more language--eloquent language--in any given short spaceof time, than all the six hundred and fifty-eight members in the CommonsHouse of Parliament of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland;who are strong lovers no doubt, but of their country only, which makesall the difference; for in a passion of that kind (which is not alwaysreturned), it is the custom to use as many words as possible, andexpress nothing whatever.

  A caution from Mr Tapley; a hasty interchange of farewells, and ofsomething else which the proverb says must not be told of afterwards;a white hand held out to Mr Tapley himself, which he kissed with thedevotion of a knight-errant; more farewells, more something else's; aparting word from Martin that he would write from London and would dogreat things there yet (Heaven knows what, but he quite believed it);and Mark and he stood on the outside of the Pecksniffian halls.

  'A short interview after such an absence!' said Martin, sorrowfully.'But we are well out of the house. We might have placed ourselves in afalse position by remaining there, even so long, Mark.'

  'I don't know about ourselves, sir,' he returned; 'but somebody elsewould have got into a false position, if he had happened to come backagain, while we was there. I had the door all ready, sir. If Pecksniffhad showed his head, or had only so much as listened behind it, I wouldhave caught him like a walnut. He's the sort of man,' added Mr Tapley,musing, 'as would squeeze soft, I know.'

  A person who was evidently going to Mr Pecksniff's house, passed them atthis moment. He raised his eyes at the mention of the architect's name;and when he had gone on a few yards, stopped and gazed at them. MrTapley, also, looked over his shoulder, and so did Martin; for thestranger, as he passed, had looked very sharply at them.

  'Who may that be, I wonder!' said Martin. 'The face seems familiar tome, but I don't know the man.'

  'He seems to have a amiable desire that his face should be tolerablefamiliar to us,' said Mr Tapley, 'for he's a-staring pretty hard. He'dbetter not waste his beauty, for he ain't got much to spare.'

  Coming in sight of the Dragon, they saw a travelling carriage at thedoor.

  'And a Salisbury carriage, eh?' said Mr Tapley. 'That's what he came independ upon it. What's in the wind now? A new pupil, I shouldn't wonder.P'raps it's a order for another grammar-school, of the same pattern asthe last.'

  Before they could enter at the door, Mrs Lupin came running out; andbeckoning them to the carriage showed them a portmanteau with the nameof CHUZZLEWIT upon it.

  'Miss Pecksniff's husband that was,' said the good woman to Martin. 'Ididn't know what terms you might be on, and was quite in a worry tillyou came back.'

  'He and I have never interchanged a word yet,' observed Martin; 'and asI have no wish to be better or worse acquainted with him, I will not putmyself in his way. We passed him on the road, I have no doubt. I am gladhe timed his coming as he did. Upon my word! Miss Pecksniff's husbandtravels gayly!'

  'A very fine-looking gentleman with him--in the best room now,'whispered Mrs Lupin, glancing up at the window as they went into thehouse. 'He has ordered everything that can be got for dinner; and hasthe glossiest moustaches and whiskers ever you saw.'

  'Has he?' cried Martin, 'why then we'll endeavour to avoid him too, inthe hope that our self-denial may be strong enough for the sacrifice.It is only for a few hours,' said Martin, dropping wearily into a chairbehind the little screen in the bar. 'Our visit has met with no success,my dear Mrs Lupin, and I must go to London.'

  'Dear, dear!' cried the hostess.

  'Yes, one foul wind no more makes a winter, than one swallow makes asummer. I'll try it again. Tom Pinch has succeeded. With his advice toguide me, I may do the same. I took Tom under my protection once, Godsave the mark!' said Martin, with a melancholy smile; 'and promised Iwould make his fortune. Perhaps Tom will take me under HIS protectionnow, and teach me how to earn my bread.'