Great Expectations by Charles Dickens - Chapter 52

going straight to Clerker's and bringing Clerker to me. I had the great satisfaction of concluding that arrangement. It was the only good thing I had done, and the only completed thing I had done since I was first apprized

of my Great Expectations. Clerker informing me on that occasion that the affairs of the house were steadily progressing, that he would now be able to establish a small branch house in the east, which was much wanted for the extension of the business, and that Herbert, in his new partnership capacity, would go out and take charge of it.

I found that I must have prepared for a separation from my friend, even though my own affairs had been more settled, and now indeed I felt as if my last anchor were loosening its hold, and I should soon

be driving with the winds and waves. But there was recompense in the joy with which Herbert would come home of a night and tell me of these changes, little imagining that he told me no news, and would sketch airy pictures of himself conducting Clara Barley to the land of the Arabian Nights, and of me going out to join them with a caravan of camels, I believe, and of our all going up the nile and seeing wonders.

Without being sanguine as to my own part in these bright plans, I felt that Herbert's way was clearing fast, and that old Bill Barley had but to stick to his pepper and rum, and his daughter would soon be happily provided for. We had now got into the month of March. My left arm, though it presented no bad symptoms, took in the natural course so long to heal that I was still unable to get a coat on. My

right arm was tolerably restored, disfigured, but fairly serviceable. On a Monday morning, when Herbert and I were at breakfast, I received the following letter from Wemmick by the post Whalworth. Burn this as soon as read early in the week, or say Wednesday. You might do what you know of

if you felt disposed to try it now burn. When I had shown this to Herbert and had put it in the fire, but not before we had both got it by heart, we considered what to do, for of course my being disabled could now be no longer kept out of it. I have thought it over again and again, said Herbert, and I think I know a better course than taking a Thames waterman. Take Startop, a good fellow, a skilled hand, fond of us, and enthusiastic and honorable. I had thought of him more than once. But how

much would you tell him, Herbert? It is necessary to tell him very little. Let him suppose it a mere freak, but a secret one until the morning comes. Then let him know that there is urgent reason for your getting provis aboard. In a way, you go with him, no doubt. Where it had seemed to me in the many anxious considerations, I had given the point almost indifferent what port we made for Hamburg, rotterdam Antwerp, The place signified little, so

that he was out of England. Any foreign steamer that fell on our way and would take us up would do. I had always proposed myself to getting well down the river in the boat, certainly well beyond Gravesend, which was a critical place for search or inquiry if suspicion were afoot. As foreign steamers would leave London about the time of high water, our plan would be to get down the river by a previous ebb tide and lie by in some quiet spot until we could pull off to one

the time when one would be due. Where we lay wherever that might be, could be calculated pretty nearly if we made inquiries beforehand. Herbert assented to all this, and we went out immediately after breakfast to pursue our investigations. We found that a steamer for Hamburg was likely to suit our purpose best, and we directed our thoughts chiefly

to that vessel. But we noted down what other foreign steamers would leave London with the same tide, and we satisfied ourselves that we knew the build and color of each. We then separated for a few hours. I to get at once such passports as were necessary. Herbert de seized star Top at his lodgings. We both did what we had to do without any hindrance, and when we met again at one o'clock reported it done. I, for my part, was prepared with passports. Herbert had seen star Top and

he was more than ready to join. Those two should pull a pair of oars. We settled, and I would steer. Our charge would be sitter and keep quiet. As speed was not our object, we should make way enough. We arranged that Herbert should not come home to dinner before going to mill Pond Bank that evening, that he should not go there at all tomorrow evening Tuesday. That he should prepare provis to come down to some stairs hard by the house on Wednesday when he saw us approach,

and not sooner. That all the arrangements with him should be concluded that Monday night, and he should be commune udicated with no more in any way until we took him on board. These precautions well understood by both of us. I went home. On opening the outer door of our chambers with my key, I found a letter in the box directed to me, A very dirty letter. Though not

ill written. It had been delivered by hand, of course, since I left home, and its contents were these, If you are not afraid to come to the old marshes to night or tomorrow night at nine, and to come to the little sluice house by the lime kiln, you had better come. If you want information regarding your uncle provis you had much better come and tell no one and lose no time. You must come alone bring this with you. I had had load enough upon my mind

before the receipt of this strange letter. What to do now I could not tell, And the worst was that I must decide quickly or I should I missed the afternoon coach which would take me down in time for tonight tomorrow night. I could not think of going, for it would be too close upon the time of the flight. And again for anything, I knew the proffered information might have some important bearing on the flight itself. If I had had ample time for consideration, I believe I should

still have gone. Having hardly any time for consideration, my watch showing me that the coach started within half an hour, I resolved to go. I should certainly not have gone, but for the reference to my uncle provis that coming on Wemmick's letter and the morning's busy preparation turned the scale.

It is so difficult to become clearly possessed of the contents of almost any letter in a violent hurry, that I had to read this mysterious epistle again twice before its injunction to me to be secret got mechanically into my mind, Yielding to it the same mechanical kind of way, I left a note in pencil for Herbert, telling him that as I should be so soon going away, I knew not for how long I had decided to hurry down and back to ascertain for myself how Miss Havisham

was faring. I had then barely time to get my greatcoat, lock up the chambers, and make for the coach office by the short byways. If I had taken a hackney chariot and gone by the streets, I should have missed my aim. Going as I did, I caught the coach just as it came out of the yard. I was the only inside passenger, jolding away, knee deep in straw, when I came to myself, For I really had not been myself since the receipt of the letter. It had so bewildered me ensuing on the hurry of the morning.

The morning hurry and flutter had been great for long and anxiously as I had waited for Wemmick. His hint

had come like a surprise at last. And now I began to wonder at myself for being in the coach, and to doubt whether I had sufficient reason for being there, and to consider whether I should get out presently and go back, and to argue against ever heating an anonymous communication, and in short, to pass through all those phases of contradiction and indecision, to which I suppose very few hurried

people are strangers. Still, the reference to provis by name mastered everything I reasoned, as I had reasoned already without knowing it. If that be reasoning in case any harm should befall him through my not going, how could I ever forgive myself. It was dark before we got down, and the journey seemed long and dreary to me, who could see little of it inside, and who could not go outside in my disabled state. Avoiding the blue boar, I put up at an inn of minor reputation down

the town and ordered some dinner. While it was I was preparing, I went to set his house and inquired for miss Havisham. She was still very ill, though considered something better. My inn had once been a part of an ancient ecclesiastical house, and I dined in a little octagonal common room like a font. As I was not able to cut my dinner, the old landlord, with a shining bald head, did it for me, this bringing us

into conversation. He was so good as to entertain me with my own story, of course, with a popular feature that Pumblechuk was my earliest benefactor and the founder of my fortunes. Do you know the young man, said? I know him, repeated the landlord. Ever since he was and no height at all? Does he ever come back to this neighborhood? Ay, he comes back, said the landlord, to his great friends now and again, and gives the cold

shoulder to the man that made him. What man is that him that I speak of, said the landlord, Mister Pumblechuk. Is he ungrateful to no one else? No doubt he would be if he could returned the Landlord. But he can't. And why because Pumblechuk done everything for him? Does Pumblechuk say so? Say so? Replied the Landlord. He hain't no call to say so. But does he say so? It would turn a man's blood to white wine vinigar to hear him tell of it, Sir, said the landlord. I thought, Yet, Joe,

dear Joe, you never tell of it. Long suffering and loving Joe, you never complain, nor you sweet tempered biddy. Your appetite's been touched like by your accident, said the Landlord, glancing at the bandage arm under my coat. Try a tenderer beat. No thank you, I replied, turning from the table to brood over the fire. I can eat no more.

Please take it away. I had never been struck at so keenly for my thanklessness to Joe as through the brazen impostor Pumblechook, the falser He, the truer Joe, the meaner he, the nobler Joe. My heart was deeply and most deservedly humbled. As I mused over the fire for an hour or more, the striking of the clock aroused me, but not from my dejection or remorse, and I got up and had my coat fastened round my neck, and

went out. I had previously sought in my pockets for the letter, that I might refer to it again, but I could not find it, and was uneasy to think that it must have been dropped in the straw of the coach. I knew very well, however, that the appointed place was the little sluice house by the lime kiln on the marshes. And the hour nine towards the marshes. I now went straight, having no time to spare. End of chapter