Much comforted by these considerations, I thanked Wemmick again andagain, and begged him to proceed.

"Well, sir! Mr. Herbert threw himself into the business with a will,and by nine o'clock last night he housed Tom, Jack, or Richard -whichever it may be - you and I don't want to know - quitesuccessfully. At the old lodgings it was understood that he wassummoned to Dover, and in fact he was taken down the Dover road andcornered out of it. Now, another great advantage of all this, is,that it was done without you, and when, if any one was concerninghimself about your movements, you must be known to be ever so manymiles off and quite otherwise engaged. This diverts suspicion andconfuses it; and for the same reason I recommended that even if youcame back last night, you should not go home. It brings in moreconfusion, and you want confusion."

Wemmick, having finished his breakfast, here looked at his watch,and began to get his coat on.

"And now, Mr. Pip," said he, with his hands still in the sleeves, "Ihave probably done the most I can do; but if I can ever do more -from a Walworth point of view, and in a strictly private andpersonal capacity - I shall be glad to do it. Here's the address.There can be no harm in your going here to-night and seeing foryourself that all is well with Tom, Jack, or Richard, before you gohome - which is another reason for your not going home last night.But after you have gone home, don't go back here. You are verywelcome, I am sure, Mr. Pip;" his hands were now out of his sleeves,and I was shaking them; "and let me finally impress one importantpoint upon you." He laid his hands upon my shoulders, and added ina solemn whisper: "Avail yourself of this evening to lay hold ofhis portable property. You don't know what may happen to him. Don'tlet anything happen to the portable property."

Quite despairing of making my mind clear to Wemmick on this point,I forbore to try.

"Time's up," said Wemmick, "and I must be off. If you had nothingmore pressing to do than to keep here till dark, that's what Ishould advise. You look very much worried, and it would do you goodto have a perfectly quiet day with the Aged - he'll be up presently- and a little bit of - you remember the pig?"

"Of course," said I.

"Well; and a little bit of him. That sausage you toasted was his,and he was in all respects a first-rater. Do try him, if it is onlyfor old acquaintance sake. Good-bye, Aged Parent!" in a cheeryshout.

"All right, John; all right, my boy!" piped the old man fromwithin.

I soon fell asleep before Wemmick's fire, and the Aged and Ienjoyed one another's society by falling asleep before it more orless all day. We had loin of pork for dinner, and greens grown onthe estate, and I nodded at the Aged with a good intention wheneverI failed to do it drowsily. When it was quite dark, I left the Agedpreparing the fire for toast; and I inferred from the number ofteacups, as well as from his glances at the two little doors in thewall, that Miss Skiffins was expected.

Chapter 46

Eight o'clock had struck before I got into the air that wasscented, not disagreeably, by the chips and shavings of thelong-shore boatbuilders, and mast oar and block makers. All thatwater-side region of the upper and lower Pool below Bridge, wasunknown ground to me, and when I struck down by the river, I foundthat the spot I wanted was not where I had supposed it to be, andwas anything but easy to find. It was called Mill Pond Bank,Chinks's Basin; and I had no other guide to Chinks's Basin than theOld Green Copper Rope-Walk.

It matters not what stranded ships repairing in dry docks I lostmyself among, what old hulls of ships in course of being knocked topieces, what ooze and slime and other dregs of tide, what yards ofship-builders and ship-breakers, what rusty anchors blindly bitinginto the ground though for years off duty, what mountainous countryof accumulated casks and timber, how many rope-walks that were notthe Old Green Copper. After several times falling short of mydestination and as often over-shooting it, I came unexpectedlyround a corner, upon Mill Pond Bank. It was a fresh kind of place,all circumstances considered, where the wind from the river hadroom to turn itself round; and there were two or three trees in it,and there was the stump of a ruined windmill, and there was the OldGreen Copper Rope-Walk - whose long and narrow vista I could tracein the moonlight, along a series of wooden frames set in theground, that looked like superannuated haymaking-rakes which hadgrown old and lost most of their teeth.

Selecting from the few queer houses upon Mill Pond Bank, a housewith a wooden front and three stories of bow-window (notbay-window, which is another thing), I looked at the plate upon thedoor, and read there, Mrs. Whimple. That being the name I wanted, Iknocked, and an elderly woman of a pleasant and thriving appearanceresponded. She was immediately deposed, however, by Herbert, whosilently led me into the parlour and shut the door. It was an oddsensation to see his very familiar face established quite at homein that very unfamiliar room and region; and I found myself lookingat him, much as I looked at the corner-cupboard with the glass andchina, the shells upon the chimney-piece, and the colouredengravings on the wall, representing the death of Captain Cook, aship-launch, and his Majesty King George the Third in astate-coachman's wig, leather-breeches, and top-boots, on theterrace at Windsor.

"All is well, Handel," said Herbert, "and he is quite satisfied,though eager to see you. My dear girl is with her father; and ifyou'll wait till she comes down, I'll make you known to her, andthen we'll go up-stairs. - That's her father."

I had become aware of an alarming growling overhead, and hadprobably expressed the fact in my countenance.

"I am afraid he is a sad old rascal," said Herbert, smiling, "but Ihave never seen him. Don't you smell rum? He is always at it."

"At rum?" said I.

"Yes," returned Herbert, "and you may suppose how mild it makes hisgout. He persists, too, in keeping all the provisions upstairs inhis room, and serving them out. He keeps them on shelves over hishead, and will weigh them all. His room must be like a chandler'sshop."

While he thus spoke, the growling noise became a prolonged roar,and then died away.

"What else can be the consequence," said Herbert, in explanation,"if he will cut the cheese? A man with the gout in his right hand -and everywhere else - can't expect to get through a DoubleGloucester without hurting himself."

He seemed to have hurt himself very much, for he gave anotherfurious roar.

"To have Provis for an upper lodger is quite a godsend to Mrs.Whimple," said Herbert, "for of course people in general won'tstand that noise. A curious place, Handel; isn't it?"

It was a curious place, indeed; but remarkably well kept and clean.

"Mrs. Whimple," said Herbert, when I told him so, "is the best ofhousewives, and I really do not know what my Clara would do withouther motherly help. For, Clara has no mother of her own, Handel, andno relation in the world but old Gruffandgrim."

"Surely that's not his name, Herbert?"

"No, no," said Herbert, "that's my name for him. His name is Mr.Barley. But what a blessing it is for the son of my father andmother, to love a girl who has no relations, and who can neverbother herself, or anybody else, about her family!"

Herbert had told me on former occasions, and now reminded me, thathe first knew Miss Clara Barley when she was completing hereducation at an establishment at Hammersmith, and that on her beingrecalled home to nurse her father, he and she had confided theiraffection to the motherly Mrs. Whimple, by whom it had been fosteredand regulated with equal kindness and discretion, ever since. Itwas understood that nothing of a tender nature could possibly beconfided to old Barley, by reason of his being totally unequal tothe consideration of any subject more psychological than Gout, Rum,and Purser's stores.

As we were thus conversing in a low tone while Old Barley'ssustained growl vibrated in the beam that crossed the ceiling, theroom door opened, and a very pretty slight dark-eyed girl of twentyor so, came in with a basket in her hand: whom Herbert tenderlyrelieved of the basket, and presented blushing, as "Clara." Shereally was a most charming girl, and might have passed for acaptive fairy, whom that truculent Ogre, Old Barley, had pressedinto his service.

"Look here," said Herbert, showing me the basket, with acompassionate and tender smile after we had talked a little;"here's poor Clara's supper, served out every night. Here's herallowance of bread, and here's her slice of cheese, and here's herrum - which I drink. This is Mr. Barley's breakfast for to-morrow,served out to be cooked. Two mutton chops, three potatoes, somesplit peas, a little flour, two ounces of butter, a pinch of salt,and all this black pepper. It's stewed up together, and taken hot,and it's a nice thing for the gout, I should think!"

There was something so natural and winning in Clara's resigned wayof looking at these stores in detail, as Herbert pointed them out,- and something so confiding, loving, and innocent, in her modestmanner of yielding herself to Herbert's embracing arm - andsomething so gentle in her, so much needing protection on Mill PondBank, by Chinks's Basin, and the Old Green Copper Rope-Walk, withOld Barley growling in the beam - that I would not have undone theengagement between her and Herbert, for all the money in thepocket-book I had never opened.

I was looking at her with pleasure and admiration, when suddenlythe growl swelled into a roar again, and a frightful bumping noisewas heard above, as if a giant with a wooden leg were trying tobore it through the ceiling to come to us. Upon this Clara said toHerbert, "Papa wants me, darling!" and ran away.

"There is an unconscionable old shark for you!" said Herbert. "Whatdo you suppose he wants now, Handel?"

"I don't know," said I. "Something to drink?"

"That's it!" cried Herbert, as if I had made a guess ofextraordinary merit. "He keeps his grog ready-mixed in a little tubon the table. Wait a moment, and you'll hear Clara lift him up totake some. - There he goes!" Another roar, with a prolonged shakeat the end. "Now," said Herbert, as it was succeeded by silence,"he's drinking. Now," said Herbert, as the growl resounded in thebeam once more, "he's down again on his back!"

Clara returned soon afterwards, and Herbert accompanied meup-stairs to see our charge. As we passed Mr. Barley's door, he washeard hoarsely muttering within, in a strain that rose and felllike wind, the following Refrain; in which I substitute good wishesfor something quite the reverse.

"Ahoy! Bless your eyes, here's old Bill Barley. Here's old BillBarley, bless your eyes. Here's old Bill Barley on the flat of hisback, by the Lord. Lying on the flat of his back, like a driftingold dead flounder, here's your old Bill Barley, bless your eyes.Ahoy! Bless you."

In this strain of consolation, Herbert informed me the invisibleBarley would commune with himself by the day and night together;often while it was light, having, at the same time, one eye at atelescope which was fitted on his bed for the convenience ofsweeping the river.

In his two cabin rooms at the top of the house, which were freshand airy, and in which Mr. Barley was less audible than below, Ifound Provis comfortably settled. He expressed no alarm, and seemedto feel none that was worth mentioning; but it struck me that hewas softened - indefinably, for I could not have said how, and couldnever afterwards recall how when I tried; but certainly.

The opportunity that the day's rest had given me for reflection,had resulted in my fully determining to say nothing to himrespecting Compeyson. For anything I knew, his animosity towardsthe man might otherwise lead to his seeking him out and rushing onhis own destruction. Therefore, when Herbert and I sat down withhim by his fire, I asked him first of all whether he relied onWemmick's judgment and sources of information?

"Ay, ay, dear boy!" he answered, with a grave nod, "Jaggers knows."

"Then, I have talked with Wemmick," said I, "and have come to tellyou what caution he gave me and what advice."

This I did accurately, with the reservation just mentioned; and Itold him how Wemmick had heard, in Newgate prison (whether fromofficers or prisoners I could not say), that he was under somesuspicion, and that my chambers had been watched; how Wemmick hadrecommended his keeping close for a time, and my keeping away fromhim; and what Wemmick had said about getting him abroad. I added,that of course, when the time came, I should go with him, or shouldfollow close upon him, as might be safest in Wemmick's judgment.What was to follow that, I did not touch upon; neither indeed was Iat all clear or comfortable about it in my own mind, now that I sawhim in that softer condition, and in declared peril for my sake. Asto altering my way of living, by enlarging my expenses, I put it tohim whether in our present unsettled and difficult circumstances,it would not be simply ridiculous, if it were no worse?

He could not deny this, and indeed was very reasonable throughout.His coming back was a venture, he said, and he had always known itto be a venture. He would do nothing to make it a desperateventure, and he had very little fear of his safety with such goodhelp.

Herbert, who had been looking at the fire and pondering, here saidthat something had come into his thoughts arising out of Wemmick'ssuggestion, which it might be worth while to pursue. "We are bothgood watermen, Handel, and could take him down the river ourselveswhen the right time comes. No boat would then be hired for thepurpose, and no boatmen; that would save at least a chance ofsuspicion, and any chance is worth saving. Never mind the season;don't you think it might be a good thing if you began at once tokeep a boat at the Temple stairs, and were in the habit of rowingup and down the river? You fall into that habit, and then whonotices or minds? Do it twenty or fifty times, and there is nothingspecial in your doing it the twenty-first or fifty-first."

Title: Great Expectations
Author: Charles Dickens
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