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V “ I might :1. took warning by Arthur, but I didn't ; and
I won't pretend I was partick’lei'-for where ’ud be the
good on it, dear boy and comrade? So I begun wi’ Coni-
peysoii, and a poor tool iwas in his hands. Arthur lived
at the top of Couipeyson’s house (over nigh Brentford it
was), and Qompeyson kept a careful account ngen him
for board and lodging, incase he should ever get better
to work it out. But Arthur soon settled the account.
The second or third time as ever I see him, he came a
tearing down into Compeyson’s parlour late at night, in
only a flannel gown, with his hair all in a sweat, and he
says to Compeyson’s wife, ‘ Sally, she really is up-stairs
alonger me, now, and I can't get rid of her. She's all in
white,’ he says, ‘ wi’ white flowers in her hair, and slie’s
awful mad, and she’s got a shroud hanging over her arm,
and she says she’ll put it on me at five in the morning.’
“ Says Compeyson : ‘ Why, you fool, don't you know
she's got a living body? And how should she be up
there, without coming through the door, or in at the
window, and up the stairs?’
“ ‘ I don't know how she's there,’ says Arthur, shiver-
ing dreadful with the horrors, ‘ but she's standing in the
corner at the foot of the bed, awful mad. And over
where her heart’s broke-you broke it ls-i.IlCI‘(!’S drops of
blood.”
v “ Compeyson spoke hardy, but he was always a coward.
‘ Go up alonger this drivelling sick man,’ he says to his
wife, ‘ and Magwitch, lend her a. hand, will you?’ But
he never come nigh himself.
" Compeyson’s wife and me took him up to bed agen,
and he raved most dreadful. ‘iVliy look at her i’ he
cries out. She's a shaking the shroud at me i Don’t
you see her‘? Look at her eyes? Ain’t it awful to see
her so mad?’ Next, he cries, ' She'll put it on me, and
then I'm done for i Take it away from her, take it
away i’ And then he catelied hold of us, and kept on a
talking to her, and answering of her, till I half believed
I see her myself.
“ Compeyson’s wife being used to him, give him some
liquor to get the horrors off, and by>and-by he quieted.
‘ Oh, she's gone‘! Has her keeper been for her ! ’ he
says. ‘ Yes,‘ says Compeyson’s wife. ‘ Did you tell
him to lock and bar her in ‘Z’ ‘ Yes.’ ‘ And to take that
ugly thing away from her?’ ‘ Yes, yes, all right.’
‘You're a good creetur,' he says, don't leave me, what-
ever you do, and thank you I ’
" He rested pretty quiet till it might want a few
minutes of five, and then he starts up with a. scream, and
screams out, ‘ Here she is l She's got the shroud again.
She’s unfolding it. Slie’s coming out of the corner. She’s
coming to the ed. Hold me, both on you--one of each
side-don't let her touch me with it. Huh I She missed
me that time. Don't let her throw it over my shoulders.
Don't let her lift me up to get it round me. She's lift-
ing me up. Keep me down!’ Then he lifted himself
up hard, and was dead.
“ Compeyson took it easy as a good riddance for both
sides. Him and me were soon busy, and first he swore
me (being ever artful) on my own book-this here little
black book, dear boy, what I swore your comrade on.
.“ Not to go into the things that Compeyson planned,
and I done--which ’ud take a weeks-l'l1.siinply say to
you, dear boy, and Pip’s comrade, that that man got me
into such nets as made me his black slave. I was always
in debt to him, always under his thumb, always a. work-
ing, always a getting into danger. He was younger than
me, but lie’d got craft, and lie’d got learning, and he
overmatclied me five hundred times told and no mercy.
My Missis as I had the hard time wi’-Stop though ! I
ain't brought her in--”
He looked about him in a confused way, as if he had
lost his place in the book of his remembrance ; and he
turned his face to the fire, and spread his hands broader
on his knees. and lifted them off and put them on again.
“There ain’t no need to go into it,” he said, looking
round once more. “ The time wi’ Compeyson was a’inost
as hard it time as ever I had ; that said, all’s said. Did
I tell you a3'I was tried, alone, for misdemcanour, while
with Compeyson ?” - V -
I answered, No.
“Well i” he said, “I was, and got convicted. As to
took up on suspicion, that was twice or three times in
CHARLES DICKENS’ WORKS-
t1m'fo‘u1- or" five year that it lasted; but evidence was
wanting. At last, me and Comhey 5911 Was both com.
mitted for felony-on a charge of putting stolen notes in
clrculationsand there was other charges behind. Com,
pcyson says to mg’ 1 separate defences, no C01I1II1l1I1lca.
tion,’ and that was all. And ll was so miserable poor,
that I sold all the clothes I had, except what hung on
my back, afore I could get Joggers. - . I i v: ‘
“ When we was put in the dock, I noticed first 'of‘a11
what a gentleman Compeyson looked, wi’ his early hm’;
and his black clothes and his white pocket-linndkeicliief,
and what a common sort of a wretch I looked. 'Whe,,
the prosecution opened and the eyidencewas “[mt'Sll0Ii,
aforcliand, I noticed how heavy it all bore on ‘me, and
how light on him. When the evidence was giv‘in the
box, I noticed how it was always me that had comefoy.
’ard, and could be swore to’, how it was always me that
the money had been paid to,’ how it was always me that
had seemed to work the thing and get the profit.’ But
when the defence come on, then I see the plan plainei-;
for, says the counsellor for Compeyscn, ‘ My lord and gen.
tlenieii, here you has afore you, ‘side by side, two per.
sons as your eyes can separate wide; one, the younger,
well brought up, who will be spoke.to as such; one, the
elder, ill brought up, who will be spoke to as such; one, ,
the younger, seldom if ever seen in tl1CSO'Ilt9FE tmnsac.
tions, and only suspected ; t’other, the elder, always
seen in ’em and always wi’ his guilt brought home, Ciu
you doubt, if there is but one in it, which is the one,
and if there is two in it, which is much the worst one?’
And such-like. And when it come to character, warm’:
it Conipeyson as had been to school, and warn’t it his
selioolfellows as was in this position and in that, and
warn’t it him as had been know’d by witnesses in such
clubs and societies, and nowt to his disadvanta e?: And
warn’t it me as had been tried afore, and as ad been
know’d up hill and down dale in Bridewells and Lock-
Ups? And when it come to speech-niaking,‘warii’t it
Compeyson as could speak to ’em wi’ his face dropping
every now and then into .liis -white pocket-liandkercliei
-ahl and wi’ verses in his speech, too-and wam’t it
me as could only say, ‘ Gentlemen, this man at my sideis
a most precious rascal’? Andiwhen the verdict come.
warn’t it Compeyson as was recommended to-mercy on
account of good character and=bad company, and giving’
up all the information he could agen me and warii't it
me as get never a word but Guilty? And when I says
to Compeyson, ‘ Once out.of this court, I’1I smash that
face 0’ yourn i’ ain't it Compeyson as‘ prays the judge to h
be protected, and gets twovturiikeys stood betwixt us?
And when we're sentenced, ain’t it him as gets seven year,
and me fourteen, and ain't it him as the Judge is sorry
for, because he might a done so well, and ain’t it me is
the J ridge perceives to be an old offender of wioleiit
passion, likely to come to worse?” v
He had worked himself into a state of rent excite-
ment, but be checked it, took two are three s ort breaths,
swallowed as often, and stretching out his hand towards
me said, in a reassuring manner, “I ain’t a going tobe
low, dear boy!” . - 2 . v "
He had so heated himself that he took out his hand-
kerchief and wiped his face and head and neck and
hands, before he could go on. V
“ I had said to Compeyson that I‘d smash that face of
his, and I swore Lord smash mine i to do it. We was in
the same prison-ship, but I couldn’t get at him for long,
though I tried. At last I come behind him and liitliim
on the cheek to turn him round and get a smashing one
at him, when I was seen and seized. The black-liole of
that ship warii’t a strong one, to a judge of black-holes
that could swim and dive. I escaped to the shore, and
I was hiding among the I graves there, envying them as
was in ’em and all over, when I first seen my boy 1"
He regarded me with a look of: affection that made
him almost abliorrenttoume again, though I had fell
great pity for him. ‘ I - n v - V ‘
“ By my bo , I was giv to understand as C0l'IlpE)'S0l1
was out on 1. cm ‘marshes too. Upon my soul, I 1131
believe he escaped in his terror, to get quit of me.“
knowing it was me as had got ashore. ? Ihiuited him
down. I smashed his face. ‘ And now,’ says I, ‘vs the
worst thing I can do, caring nothing for myself, I’ll (W!
.. I ‘ ‘ ‘ ;:f4-n.
'4‘-nit
x..,<;a-awe
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