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1 into their ownliands.
, peril, I :,believe, than to other people's;
, speaking, I am not at all afraid of going wherever I may
IDA 171D UOPPERFIELD. ' 299
I “.15 that all?” inquired Miss Dartle of me. I .
I indicated that I had nothing more to say. - " Except,”
I added, as I saw him moving off, “that I understand
this fellow's part in the wicked story, and that, as I
shall make it known to the honest man who has‘ been
herfatlier from her childhood, I would recommend him
toavoid going too much into public.” , .
wHe had stopped the moment I began, and had listened
with his usual repose of ‘manner.
.- “Thank you, sir. -But you'll excuse me if I say, sir,
that there are neither slaves nor slave-drivers in this
country, and that people are not allowed to take the law
If they do,’ it is more to their own
Consequently
wish, sir.”, .
VVith that, he made a polite bow ;'and, with another
to Miss Dartle, went away throughthe arch in the wall
of:holly by which he had come. Miss Dartle and I re-
gardedeacli other for a little while inisilence ; her man-
nerbeing exactly what it was,‘ when she had‘ produced
the man; " ‘
“He says besides,” she observed, with a slow curling
ofherplip; “ that his master, as he hears, is coasting
Spain; and this done, is away to gratify his seafaring
' tastes till he is weary. But that is of no interest to you.
. Between these two proud persons, mother and son, there
‘ is a wider breach than before, and little hope of its heal-
ing,-for they are one at heart, and time makes each more
obstinate andimperious. Neither is this of any interest
to you ; but it introduces what I wish to say. This
devil whom you make an angel of,‘I mean this low girl
whom he picked out of the tide-mud,” with her black
eyes full upon me, ‘and her passionate finger up, “ may
v be alive,-for I believe some common things are hard
to die. o ‘If she is, you will desire to have a pearl of such
price found‘ and taken care of. ‘Va desire that, too ;‘
that he may not by any chance be made her prey twain.
So far, we are united in one interest ; and that is why I,
who would do her any mischief that so coarse a vlretch
is capable of feeling, have sent for you to hear what you
have heard.’’' -
I saw, by the change in her face, that some one was
advancing behind me. It was Mrs. Steerforth, who gave
me her hand more coldly than of yore, and with an aug-
mentation of her former stateliness of manner ; but still,
I perceived-and I was touched by it-with an ineiIace-
able remembrance of my old love for her son. She. was
greatly altered. Her fine figure was far less upright,
. er liaiidsomefaco was deeply marked, and her hair was
almost white. But whenshe sat down on the seat, she
was a liandsoine lady still ; and well I knew the bright
eye with its lofty look, that had been a light in my
very dreams at school.
“Is Mr. Copperfield informed of everything, Rosa?”
“ Yes ”
.4‘ And has he heard Littimer himself ?”
“Yes ; I have told him why you wished it."
“‘You'are a good girl. I have had some slight corre-
spondence with your former friend, sir,” addressing me,
" but it has not restored his sense of duty or natural ob-
ligation. Therefore I have no other object in this, than
what Rosa has mentioned.‘ If, by the course which may
relieve the mind of the decent man’ you brought here
(for whom I am sorry-I can say no more), my son may
besaved from again falling into the snares of a design-
mg enemy, well!" ’ " ' .
.Slie drew herself up, and sat looking straight before
8!‘, far away. ‘ ‘ ’ ' ' ' ’
“Madam,” I said respectfully, “ I understand. I as-
sure you Iam in no danger of putting any strained‘ con-
struction on your motives. But I must say. 6W3 to 3'0“.
ll“-Ving known this injured family from childliood;‘ll151t
If you suppose the girl, so deeply wronged. hes not been
cruellyideluded,-and would not rather die a hundred
deaths than take a cup‘0f water from your son's hand
“OW. you cherish a terrible mistake." " " ’
. .1 Well, Rosa,‘ well I” said Mrs. Steerforth, as the other
‘VRS about to interpose, “it is no matter. Let it be- You
are married, sir, I am told?” ' , '
I answered that I had been some time married. =
W "" And are doing well? I. hear-little in the quiet life
I lead, but I understand you are beginning to be Iain.
Ous :1 ; . ‘ .. I ' . ’
“I have been very fortunate,” I said, “and find my
name connected withsome praise." ‘ ’ '
“ You have no mother ‘I ”-in a. softened voice.
‘(N032 , > I
“ It is a pity,” she returned. “ She would'have been
proud of you. Good night I’' '
I took the hand she held out with a dignified, nnbend.
ing air, and it was as calm in mine as if her breast had
been in peace. Her pride could still its very pulses it
appeared, and draw the placid veil before her face,
through which she sat looking straight before her on the
far distance. -
As I moved away from them along the terrace, I could
not help observing how steadily they both sat gazing on
the prospect, and how it thickened and closed around
- inquired at len tli.
them. Here and there, some early lamps were seen to
twinkle in the distant city; and in the eastern quarter
of the sky the lurid light still hovered. But from the
greater part of the broad valley interposed, a mist was
rising like a sea, which, mingling with the darkness,
made it seem as if the gathering waters would encom-
pass them. I have reason to remember this, and think
of it with awe ; for before I looked upon those two again,
a stormy sea had risen to their feet. '
Reflecting-ion what had been thus told me, I felt it
.right that it should be communicated to Mr. Peggotty.
On the following evening [ went into London in quest of
him. He was always wandering about from place to
place, with his one object of recovering his niece before
him; but was more in London than elsewhere.’ Often
and often, now, had I seen him in the dead of night
passin along the streets, searching, among the few who
loitere out of doors at those untimely hours, for what
he dreaded to find.
He kept a lodging over the little cliiindler's shop in
Hungerfordhfnrliet, which I have had occasion to men-
tion more than once, and from which he first went forth
upon his errand of mercy. Hither I directed my walk.
On making inquiry for him, I learned from the people of
the house that he had not gone out yet, and I should find
him in his room up-stairs.
He was sittin reading by a window in which he kept
xi. few plants. " he room was very neat and orderly. I
saw in a moment that it was always kept prepared for
her reception, and that he never went out but he thought
it possible he might bring her home. He had not heard
my tap at the door, and only raised his eyes when I laid
my hand upon his ‘shoulder.
“ Mas’r Davy l Tliankee, sir l tliankee hearty, for this
visit l Sit ye down. You’re kindly welcome, sir.”
“ Mr. Peggotty, ” said 1, taking the chair he handed me,
“don’t expect much ! I have heard some news.”
“ Of Em’ly l ”
He put his hand, in a nervous manner, on his mouth,
and turned pale, as ho fixed his eyes on mine.
I I“ It gives no clue to where she” is ;-but she is not with
iim. ’ ‘ ‘
He sat down, looking intently at me, and listened in
profound silence to all I had to tell. I well remember
the sense of dignity, beauty even, with which the patient
gravity of his face impressed me, when, having gradu-
ally removed his eyes from mine, he sat looking down-
ward, l8ilI1ll]g'lllS forehead on his hand. He offered ‘no
interruption, but‘ remained throughout perfectly still.
Ile seemed-to pursue her figure through tho iiafrati"0.
and to let every other shape go by him. 35 ‘f 1‘ “ere
nothing.‘ ‘ ‘ ‘
. lVl1en Ihad done,‘ he shaded his face, and continued
silent. I looked out of the window for a. little while,
and occu ied in self with the hints.
“ Ilowpdo youy fare to feel about it. M355‘ D3‘? ? ".110
v “ I think thafiv she is living,” I replied.
“ I doen’t know. 'Mayb‘o the first shock was too rough,
and in the wildness of her art-l That there N110 l,‘ all?!‘
as sh'e used to speak otti. C"t‘(;l‘1i)e5]]1:3c:1llv:v[:vtd)?l'n'0‘ t mt
. ‘ ‘ ’ 1 ‘V115 a n .
S0I!I1:3n:)ztyl(let'lll.lS,bIlIl‘1;llSI‘?g, ii low, frightened voice ; nnd
walked across the little room
“And yet," he added, “ Mas’r Davy, I have felt so sure