LITMIR.BIZ

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home, Joe vaguely acknowledging the occasion as an impressive and ceremonious one, went on ahead to open the front door. Our conference was held in the state parlor, which was feebly lighted by one candle.

      It began with the strange gentleman’s sitting down at the table, drawing the candle to him, and looking over some entries in his pocket-book. He then put up the pocket-book and set the candle a little aside, after peering round it into the darkness at Joe and me, to ascertain which was which.

      “My name,” he said, “is Jaggers,[77] and I am a lawyer in London. I am pretty well known. I have unusual business with you. If my advice had been asked, I should not have been here.”

      Finding that he could not see us very well from where he sat, he got up, and threw one leg over the back of a chair and leaned upon it.

      “Now, Joseph Gargery, I am ready to relieve you of this young fellow. You would not object to cancel his indentures at his request and for his good? You want nothing for so doing?”

      “Lord forbid that I should want anything for not standing in Pip’s way,” said Joe, staring.

      “Lord forbidding is pious, but the question is, Would you want anything? Do you want anything?” returned Mr. Jaggers.

      “The answer is,” returned Joe, sternly, “No.”

      I thought Mr. Jaggers glanced at Joe, as if he considered him a fool.

      “Very well,” said Mr. Jaggers. “Now, I return to this young fellow. He has Great Expectations.”

      Joe and I gasped, and looked at one another.

      “I am instructed to communicate to him,” said Mr. Jaggers, throwing his finger at me sideways, “that he will come into a handsome property.[78] Further, that it is the desire of the present possessor of that property,[79] that he be immediately removed from this place, and be brought up as a gentleman – in a word, as a young fellow of great expectations.”

      My dream came true; Miss Havisham was going to make my fortune on a grand scale.[80]

      “Now, Mr. Pip,” pursued the lawyer, “You are to understand, first, that it is the request of the person from whom I take my instructions that you always bear the name of Pip. But if you have any objection, this is the time to mention it.”

      My heart was beating very fast, I could scarcely stammer I had no objection.

      “Good. Now you are to understand, Mr. Pip, that the name of the person who is your liberal benefactor remains a profound secret, until the person chooses to reveal it. I am empowered to mention[81] that it is the intention of the person to reveal it at first hand by word of mouth to yourself. When or where that intention may be carried out, I cannot say; no one can say. It may be years hence. But if you have any objection to it, this is the time to mention it. Speak out.”

      Once more, I stammered with difficulty that I had no objection.

      “I should think not! Now, Mr. Pip, we come next, to mere details of arrangement. We have to choose your tutor. Have you ever heard of any tutor whom you would prefer to another?”

      I replied in the negative.

      “There is a certain tutor, of whom I have some knowledge,” said Mr. Jaggers. “I don’t recommend him; because I never recommend anybody. The gentleman I speak of is one Mr. Matthew Pocket.[82]”

      Ah! I caught at the name directly. Miss Havisham’s relation. The Matthew whose place was to be at Miss Havisham’s head, when she lay dead, in her bride’s dress on the bride’s table.

      “You know the name?” said Mr. Jaggers, looking at me, and then shutting up his eyes while he waited for my answer.

      My answer was, that I had heard of the name.

      “Oh!” said he. “You have heard of the name. You had better try him in his own house. The way shall be prepared for you, and you can see his son first, who is in London. When will you come to London?”

      I said (glancing at Joe, who stood looking on, motionless), that I could come directly.

      “First,” said Mr. Jaggers, “you should have some new clothes, and they should not be working-clothes. Say in a week. You’ll want some money. Shall I leave you twenty guineas?”

      He took out a long purse, and counted them out on the table and pushed them over to me.

      “Well, Joseph Gargery? You look astonished?”

      “I am!” said Joe, in a very decided manner.

      “But what,” said Mr. Jaggers, swinging his purse – “what if it was in my instructions to make you a present, as compensation?”

      “As compensation what for?” Joe demanded.

      “For the loss of his services.”

      Joe laid his hand upon my shoulder with the touch of a woman. “Pip is hearty welcome,” said Joe, “to go free with his services, to honor and fortune, as no words can tell him. But if you think as Money can make compensation to me for the loss of the little child – what come to the forge – and ever the best of friends! – ”

      Mr. Jaggers had looked at him, as one who recognized in Joe the village idiot,[83] and in me his keeper. When it was over, he said, weighing in his hand the purse he had ceased to swing:

      “Now, Joseph Gargery, I warn you this is your last chance. If you mean to take a present that I have, speak out, and you shall have it. If on the contrary you mean to say – ” Here, to his great amazement, he was stopped by Joe’s words.

      “I mean,” cried Joe, “that if you come into my place badgering me, come out! If you’re a man, come on! Stand or fall by!”

      I drew Joe away. Mr. Jaggers delivered his remarks. They were these.

      “Well, Mr. Pip, I think the sooner you leave here – as you are to be a gentleman – the better. Let it stand for this day week,[84] and you shall receive my printed address in the meantime.”

      He went out, I thanked him and ran home again, and there I found that Joe had already locked the front, and was seated by the kitchen fire with a hand on each knee, gazing intently at the burning coals. I too sat down before the fire and gazed at the coals, and nothing was said for a long time.

      My sister was in her chair in her corner, and Biddy sat at her needle-work before the fire, and Joe sat next Biddy, and I sat next Joe in the corner opposite my sister.

      “Joe, have you told Biddy?” asked I.

      “No, Pip,” returned Joe, still looking at the fire, and holding his knees tight, “ I left it to yourself, Pip.”

      “I would rather you told, Joe.”

      “Pip’s a gentleman of fortune then,” said Joe, “and God bless him in it!”

      Biddy dropped her work, and looked at me. Joe held his knees and looked

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