Chapter 4: Mrs Flintwinch has a Dream

Little Dorrit

by Charles Dickens

When Mrs Flintwinch dreamed, she usually dreamed, unlike the son
of her old mistress, with her eyes shut. She had a curiously vivid
dream that night, and before she had left the son of her old mistress
many hours. In fact it was not at all like a dream; it was so very
real in every respect. It happened in this wise.

The bed-chamber occupied by Mr and Mrs Flintwinch was within a
few paces of that to which Mrs Clennam had been so long confined. It
was not on the same floor, for it was a room at the side of the
house, which was approached by a steep descent of a few odd steps,
diverging from the main staircase nearly opposite to Mrs Clennam's
door. It could scarcely be said to be within call, the walls, doors,
and panelling of the old place were so cumbrous; but it was within
easy reach, in any undress, at any hour of the night, in any
temperature. At the head of the bed and within a foot of Mrs
Flintwinch's ear, was a bell, the line of which hung ready to Mrs
Clennam's hand. Whenever this bell rang, up started Affery, and was
in the sick room before she was awake.

Having got her mistress into bed, lighted her lamp, and given
her good night, Mrs Flintwinch went to roost as usual, saving that
her lord had not yet appeared. It was her lord himself who became--
unlike the last theme in the mind, according to the observation of
most philosophers--the subject of Mrs Flintwinch's dream. It seemed
to her that she awoke after sleeping some hours, and found Jeremiah
not yet abed. That she looked at the candle she had left burning,
and, measuring the time like King Alfred the Great, was confirmed by
its wasted state in her belief that she had been asleep for some
considerable period. That she arose thereupon, muffled herself up in
a wrapper, put on her shoes, and went out on the staircase, much
surprised, to look for Jeremiah.

The staircase was as wooden and solid as need be, and Affery
went straight down it without any of those deviations peculiar to
dreams. She did not skim over it, but walked down it, and guided
herself by the banisters on account of her candle having died out.
In one corner of the hall, behind the house-door, there was a little
waiting-room, like a well-shaft, with a long narrow window in it as
if it had been ripped up. In this room, which was never used, a
light was burning.

Mrs Flintwinch crossed the hall, feeling its pavement cold to
her stockingless feet, and peeped in between the rusty hinges on the
door, which stood a little open. She expected to see Jeremiah fast
asleep or in a fit, but he was calmly seated in a chair, awake, and
in his usual health. But what--hey?--Lord forgive us!--Mrs
Flintwinch muttered some ejaculation to this effect, and turned
giddy.

For, Mr Flintwinch awake, was watching Mr Flintwinch asleep. He
sat on one side of the small table, looking keenly at himself on the
other side with his chin sunk on his breast, snoring. The waking
Flintwinch had his full front face presented to his wife; the
sleeping Flintwinch was in profile. The waking Flintwinch was the
old original; the sleeping Flintwinch was the double. just as she
might have distinguished between a tangible object and its reflection
in a glass, Affery made out this difference with her head going round
and round.

If she had had any doubt which was her own Jeremiah, it would
have been resolved by his impatience. He looked about him for an
offensive weapon, caught up the snuffers, and, before applying them
to the cabbage-headed candle, lunged at the sleeper as though he
would have run him through the body.

'Who's that? What's the matter?' cried the sleeper,
starting.

Mr Flintwinch made a movement with the snuffers, as if he would
have enforced silence on his companion by putting them down his
throat; the companion, coming to himself, said, rubbing his eyes, 'I
forgot where I was.'

'You have been asleep,' snarled Jeremiah, referring to his
watch, 'two hours. You said you would be rested enough if you had a
short nap.'

'I have had a short nap,' said Double.

'Half-past two o'clock in the morning,' muttered Jeremiah.
'Where's your hat? Where's your coat? Where's the box?'

'All here,' said Double, tying up his throat with sleepy
carefulness in a shawl. 'Stop a minute. Now give me the sleeve--
not that sleeve, the other one. Ha! I'm not as young as I was.' Mr
Flintwinch had pulled him into his coat with vehement energy. 'You
promised me a second glass after I was rested.'

'Drink it!' returned Jeremiah, 'and--choke yourself, I was going
to say--but go, I mean.'At the same time he produced the identical
port-wine bottle, and filled a wine-glass.

'Her port-wine, I believe?' said Double, tasting it as if he
were in the Docks, with hours to spare. 'Her health.'

He took a sip.

'Your health!'

He took another sip.

'His health!'

He took another sip.

'And all friends round St Paul's.' He emptied and put down the
wine-glass half-way through this ancient civic toast, and took up the
box. It was an iron box some two feet square, which he carried under
his arms pretty easily. Jeremiah watched his manner of adjusting it,
with jealous eyes; tried it with his hands, to be sure that he had a
firm hold of it; bade him for his life be careful what he was about;
and then stole out on tiptoe to open the door for him. Affery,
anticipating the last movement, was on the staircase. The sequence
of things was so ordinary and natural, that, standing there, she
could hear the door open, feel the night air, and see the stars
outside.

But now came the most remarkable part of the dream. She felt so
afraid of her husband, that being on the staircase, she had not the
power to retreat to her room (which she might easily have done before
he had fastened the door), but stood there staring. Consequently
when he came up the staircase to bed, candle in hand, he came full
upon her. He looked astonished, but said not a word. He kept his
eyes upon her, and kept advancing; and she, completely under his
influence, kept retiring before him. Thus, she walking backward and
he walking forward, they came into their own room. They were no
sooner shut in there, than Mr Flintwinch took her by the throat, and
shook her until she was black in the face.

'Why, Affery, woman--Affery!' said Mr Flintwinch. 'What have
you been dreaming of? Wake up, wake up! What's the matter?'

'The--the matter, Jeremiah?' gasped Mrs Flintwinch, rolling her
eyes.

'Why, Affery, woman--Affery! You have been getting out of bed
in your sleep, my dear! I come up, after having fallen asleep
myself, below, and find you in your wrapper here, with the nightmare.
Affery, woman,' said Mr Flintwinch, with a friendly grin on his
expressive countenance, 'if you ever have a dream of this sort again,
it'll be a sign of your being in want of physic. And I'll give you
such a dose, old woman--such a dose!'

Mrs Flintwinch thanked him and crept into bed.