LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

repeated,

      “He tried to murder me!”

      “He lies!” said my convict, with fierce energy. “He’s a liar, and he’ll die a liar. Look at his face. Do you see him? Do you see what a villain he is?”

      “Enough,” said the sergeant. “Light those torches. All right. March.”

      My convict never looked at me, except that once. He turned to the sergeant, and remarked,

      “I wish to say something.”

      “You can say what you like,” returned the sergeant, “but you’ll have opportunity enough to say about it, and hear about it, you know.”

      “A man can’t starve; at least I can’t. I took some food, at the village over there[15].”

      “You mean stole,” said the sergeant.

      “And I’ll tell you where from. From the blacksmith’s.”

      “Halloa!” said the sergeant, staring at Joe.

      “Halloa, Pip!” said Joe, staring at me.

      “It was some food – that’s what it was – and liquor, and a pie.”

      “Do you miss a pie, blacksmith?” asked the sergeant, confidentially.

      “My wife does, at the very moment when you came in. Don’t you know, Pip?”

      “So,” said my convict, without the least glance at me, “so you’re the blacksmith, are you? I’m sorry. I ate your pie.”

      “You’re welcome,” returned Joe, “we don’t know what you did before, but you must not starve, poor miserable fellow. Right, Pip?”

      Something clicked in the man’s throat, and he turned his back.

      I did not want to lose Joe’s confidence. I was staring drearily at my companion and friend. I was too cowardly to tell Joe the truth. As I was sleepy, Joe took me on his back again and carried me home.

      Chapter 6

      When I was old enough, I was to be apprenticed to Joe.

      “Didn’t you ever go to school, Joe, when you were as little as me?” asked I one day.

      “No, Pip.”

      “Why didn’t you ever go to school?”

      “Well, Pip,” said Joe; “I’ll tell you. My father, Pip, liked to drink much. So my mother and me we ran away from my father several times. Sometimes my mother said, ‘Joe, you must go to school, child.’ And she put me to school. But my father couldn’t live without us. So he came with a crowd and took us from the houses where we were. He took us home and hammered us.”

      “Certainly, poor Joe!”

      “My father said I must work. So I went to work. In time I was able to keep him, and I kept him till he went off.”

      Joe’s blue eyes turned a little watery. He rubbed first one of them, and then the other, in a most uncongenial and uncomfortable manner, with the round knob on the top of the poker.

      “I met your sister,” said Joe, “she was living here alone. Now, Pip,”Joe looked firmly at me; “your sister is very nice and clever.”

      “I am glad you think so, Joe.”

      “Yes,” returned Joe. “That’s it. You’re right, old chap! When I met your sister, she was bringing you. Very kind of her too, all the folks said, and I said, along with all the folks. When your sister was willing and ready to come to the forge, I said to her, ‘And bring the poor little child. God bless the poor little child,’ I said to your sister, ‘there’s room for him at the forge!’”

      I hugged Joe round the neck. He dropped the poker to hug me and said,

      “We are the best friends; aren’t we, Pip? Don’t cry, old chap!”

      When this little interruption was over, Joe resumed:

      “Well, you see; here we are! Your sister a master-mind.[16] A master-mind. However, here comes the mare!”

      Mrs. Joe and Uncle Pumblechook were soon near. Then we were soon all in the kitchen.

      “Now,” said Mrs. Joe, with haste and excitement, “if this boy isn’t grateful this night, he never will be! Miss Havisham wants this boy to go and play in her house. And of course he’ll go.”

      I heard of Miss Havisham – everybody heard of her – as an immensely rich and grim lady. She lived in a large and dismal house and led a life of seclusion[17].

      “But how did she know Pip?” said Joe, astounded.

      “Who said she knew him?” cried my sister. “She just asked Uncle Pumblechook if he knew of a boy to go and play there. Uncle Pumblechook thinks that that is the boy’s fortune. So he offered to take him into town tonight in his own chaise-cart, and to take him with his own hands to Miss Havisham’s tomorrow morning.”

      I was then delivered over to Mr. Pumblechook. He said:

      “Boy, be forever grateful!”

      “Good-bye, Joe!”

      “God bless you, Pip, old chap!”

      I never parted from him before. I did not understand why I was going to play at Miss Havisham’s, and what to play at.

      Chapter 7

      Mr. Pumblechook and I breakfasted at eight o’clock in the parlor behind the shop. I didn’t like Mr. Pumblechook. He said, pompously,

      “Seven times nine, boy?[18]”

      I was very hungry, but the math lesson lasted all through the breakfast.

      “Seven?” “And four?” “And eight?” “And six?” “And two?” “And ten?” And so on.

      For such reasons, I was very glad when ten o’clock came and we started for Miss Havisham’s. Miss Havisham’s house was of old brick, and dismal, and had many iron bars. While we waited at the gate, Mr. Pumblechook said, “And fourteen?” but I did not answer.

      A window was raised, and a clear voice demanded,

      “What name?”

      My conductor replied,

      “Pumblechook.”

      The voice returned, “Quite right,” and the window was shut again. Then a young lady came across the courtyard, with keys in her hand.

      “This,” said Mr. Pumblechook, “is Pip.”

      “This is Pip, is it?” returned the young lady, who was very pretty and seemed very proud; “come in, Pip.”

      Mr. Pumblechook was coming in also, when she stopped him.

      “Oh!” she said. “Did you wish to see Miss Havisham?”

      “If Miss Havisham wished to see me,” returned Mr. Pumblechook, discomfited.

      “Ah!” said the girl; “but you see she didn’t.”

      Mr. Pumblechook did not protest. My young conductress locked the gate, and we went across the courtyard. It was paved and clean, but grass was growing in every crevice. The cold wind seemed to blow colder there than outside the gate.

      “Now, boy, you are at the Manor House,” said the girl.

      “Is that the name of this house, miss?”

      “One of its names, boy.”

      She called me “boy” very often, but she was of about my own age. Anyway, she seemed much older than I, of course.

      We went into the house by a side door. The great front entrance had two chains across it outside. The passages were all dark. At last we came to

Скачать книгу