Great Expectations Charles Dickens (best novels to read for students .TXT) đ
- Author: Charles Dickens
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Much comforted by these considerations, I thanked Wemmick again and again, and begged him to proceed.
âWell, sir! Mr. Herbert threw himself into the business with a will, and by nine oâclock last night he housed Tom, Jack, or Richardâ âwhichever it may beâ âyou and I donât want to knowâ âquite successfully. At the old lodgings it was understood that he was summoned to Dover, and, in fact, he was taken down the Dover road and cornered out of it. Now, another great advantage of all this is, that it was done without you, and when, if anyone was concerning himself about your movements, you must be known to be ever so many miles off and quite otherwise engaged. This diverts suspicion and confuses it; and for the same reason I recommended that, even if you came back last night, you should not go home. It brings in more confusion, and you want confusion.â
Wemmick, having finished his breakfast, here looked at his watch, and began to get his coat on.
âAnd now, Mr. Pip,â said he, with his hands still in the sleeves, âI have probably done the most I can do; but if I can ever do moreâ âfrom a Walworth point of view, and in a strictly private and personal capacityâ âI shall be glad to do it. Hereâs the address. There can be no harm in your going here tonight, and seeing for yourself that all is well with Tom, Jack, or Richard, before you go homeâ âwhich is another reason for your not going home last night. But, after you have gone home, donât go back here. You are very welcome, I am sure, Mr. Pipâ; his hands were now out of his sleeves, and I was shaking them; âand let me finally impress one important point upon you.â He laid his hands upon my shoulders, and added in a solemn whisper: âAvail yourself of this evening to lay hold of his portable property. You donât know what may happen to him. Donât let anything happen to the portable property.â
Quite despairing of making my mind clear to Wemmick on this point, I forbore to try.
âTimeâs up,â said Wemmick, âand I must be off. If you had nothing more pressing to do than to keep here till dark, thatâs what I should advise. You look very much worried, and it would do you good to have a perfectly quiet day with the Agedâ âheâll be up presentlyâ âand a little bit ofâ âyou remember the pig?â
âOf course,â said I.
âWell; 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 only for old acquaintance sake. Goodbye, Aged Parent!â in a cheery shout.
âAll right, John; all right, my boy!â piped the old man from within.
I soon fell asleep before Wemmickâs fire, and the Aged and I enjoyed one anotherâs society by falling asleep before it more or less all day. We had loin of pork for dinner, and greens grown on the estate; and I nodded at the Aged with a good intention whenever I failed to do it drowsily. When it was quite dark, I left the Aged preparing the fire for toast; and I inferred from the number of teacups, as well as from his glances at the two little doors in the wall, that Miss Skiffins was expected.
XLVIEight oâclock had struck before I got into the air, that was scented, not disagreeably, by the chips and shavings of the long-shore boat-builders, and mast, oar, and block makers. All that waterside region of the upper and lower Pool below Bridge was unknown ground to me; and when I struck down by the river, I found that the spot I wanted was not where I had supposed it to be, and was anything but easy to find. It was called Mill Pond Bank, Chinksâs Basin; and I had no other guide to Chinksâs Basin than the Old Green Copper Rope-walk.
It matters not what stranded ships repairing in dry docks I lost myself among, what old hulls of ships in course of being knocked to pieces, what ooze and slime and other dregs of tide, what yards of shipbuilders and ship-breakers, what rusty anchors blindly biting into the ground, though for years off duty, what mountainous country of accumulated casks and timber, how many rope-walks that were not the Old Green Copper. After several times falling short of my destination and as often overshooting it, I came unexpectedly round a corner, upon Mill Pond Bank. It was a fresh kind of place, all circumstances considered, where the wind from the river had room 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 Old Green Copper Rope-walkâ âwhose long and narrow vista I could trace in the moonlight, along a series of wooden frames set in the ground, that looked like superannuated haymaking-rakes which had grown old and lost most of their teeth.
Selecting from the few queer houses upon Mill Pond Bank a house with a wooden front and three stories of bow-window (not bay-window, which is another thing), I looked at the plate upon the door, and read there, Mrs. Whimple. That being the name I wanted, I knocked, and an elderly woman of a pleasant and thriving appearance responded. She was immediately deposed, however, by Herbert, who silently led me into the parlor and shut the door. It was an odd sensation to see his very familiar face established quite at home in that very unfamiliar room and region; and I found myself looking at him, much as I looked at the corner cupboard with the glass and china, the shells upon the chimneypiece, and the
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