Chapter 6

The Old Curiosity Shop

by Charles Dickens

Little Nell stood timidly by, with her eyes raised to the
countenance of Mr Quilp as he read the letter, plainly showing by her
looks that while she entertained some fear and distrust of the little
man, she was much inclined to laugh at his uncouth appearance and
grotesque attitude. And yet there was visible on the part of the
child a painful anxiety for his reply, and consciousness of his power
to render it disagreeable or distressing, which was strongly at
variance with this impulse and restrained it more effectually than
she could possibly have done by any efforts of her own.

That Mr Quilp was himself perplexed, and that in no small
degree, by the contents of the letter, was sufficiently obvious.
Before he had got through the first two or three lines he began to
open his eyes very wide and to frown most horribly, the next two or
three caused him to scratch his head in an uncommonly vicious manner,
and when he came to the conclusion he gave a long dismal whistle
indicative of surprise and dismay. After folding and laying it down
beside him, he bit the nails of all of his ten fingers with extreme
voracity; and taking it up sharply, read it again. The second perusal
was to all appearance as unsatisfactory as the first, and plunged him
into a profound reverie from which he awakened to another assault
upon his nails and a long stare at the child, who with her eyes
turned towards the ground awaited his further pleasure.

'Halloa here!' he said at length, in a voice, and with a
suddenness, which made the child start as though a gun had been fired
off at her ear. 'Nelly!'

'Yes, sir.'

'Do you know what's inside this letter, Nell?'

'No, sir!'

'Are you sure, quite sure, quite certain, upon your soul?'

'Quite sure, sir.'

'Do you wish you may die if you do know, hey?' said the
dwarf.

'Indeed I don't know,' returned the child.

'Well!' muttered Quilp as he marked her earnest look. 'I believe
you. Humph! Gone already? Gone in four-and-twenty hours! What the
devil has he done with it, that's the mystery!'

This reflection set him scratching his head and biting his nails
once more. While he was thus employed his features gradually relaxed
into what was with him a cheerful smile, but which in any other man
would have been a ghastly grin of pain, and when the child looked up
again she found that he was regarding her with extraordinary favour
and complacency.

'You look very pretty to-day, Nelly, charmingly pretty. Are you
tired, Nelly?'

'No, sir. I'm in a hurry to get back, for he will be anxious
while I am away.'

'There's no hurry, little Nell, no hurry at all,' said Quilp.
'How should you like to be my number two, Nelly?'

'To be what, sir?'

'My number two, Nelly, my second, my Mrs Quilp,' said the
dwarf.

The child looked frightened, but seemed not to understand him,
which Mr Quilp observing, hastened to make his meaning more
distinctly.

'To be Mrs Quilp the second, when Mrs Quilp the first is dead,
sweet Nell,' said Quilp, wrinkling up his eyes and luring her towards
him with his bent forefinger, 'to be my wife, my little
cherry-cheeked, red-lipped wife. Say that Mrs Quilp lives five year,
or only four, you'll be just the proper age for me. Ha ha! Be a good
girl, Nelly, a very good girl, and see if one of these days you don't
come to be Mrs Quilp of Tower Hill.'

So far from being sustained and stimulated by this delightful
prospect, the child shrank from him in great agitation, and trembled
violently. Mr Quilp, either because frightening anybody afforded him
a constitutional delight, or because it was pleasant to contemplate
the death of Mrs Quilp number one, and the elevation of Mrs Quilp
number two to her post and title, or because he was determined from
purposes of his own to be agreeable and good-humoured at that
particular time, only laughed and feigned to take no heed of her
alarm.

'You shall home with me to Tower Hill and see Mrs Quilp that is,
directly,' said the dwarf. 'She's very fond of you, Nell, though not
so fond as I am. You shall come home with me.'

'I must go back indeed,' said the child. 'He told me to return
directly I had the answer.'

'But you haven't it, Nelly,' retorted the dwarf, 'and won't have
it, and can't have it, until I have been home, so you see that to do
your errand, you must go with me. Reach me yonder hat, my dear, and
we'll go directly.' With that, Mr Quilp suffered himself to roll
gradually off the desk until his short legs touched the ground, when
he got upon them and led the way from the counting-house to the wharf
outside, when the first objects that presented themselves were the
boy who had stood on his head and another young gentleman of about
his own stature, rolling in the mud together, locked in a tight
embrace, and cuffing each other with mutual heartiness.

'It's Kit!' cried Nelly, clasping her hand, 'poor Kit who came
with me! Oh, pray stop them, Mr Quilp!'

'I'll stop 'em,' cried Quilp, diving into the little
counting-house and returning with a thick stick, 'I'll stop 'em. Now,
my boys, fight away. I'll fight you both. I'll take bot of you, both
together, both together!'

With which defiances the dwarf flourished his cudgel, and
dancing round the combatants and treading upon them and skipping over
them, in a kind of frenzy, laid about him, now on one and now on the
other, in a most desperate manner, always aiming at their heads and
dealing such blows as none but the veriest little savage would have
inflicted. This being warmer work than they had calculated upon,
speedily cooled the courage of the belligerents, who scrambled to
their feet and called for quarter.

'I'll beat you to a pulp, you dogs,' said Quilp, vainly
endeavoring to get near either of them for a parting blow. 'I'll
bruise you until you're copper-coloured, I'll break your faces till
you haven't a profile between you, I will.'

'Come, you drop that stick or it'll be worse for you,' said his
boy, dodging round him and watching an opportunity to rush in; 'you
drop that stick.'

'Come a little nearer, and I'll drop it on your skull, you dog,'
said Quilp, with gleaming eyes; 'a little nearer--nearer yet.'

But the boy declined the invitation until his master was
apparently a little off his guard, when he darted in and seizing the
weapon tried to wrest it from his grasp. Quilp, who was as strong as
a lion, easily kept his hold until the boy was tugging at it with his
utmost power, when he suddenly let it go and sent him reeling
backwards, so that he fell violently upon his head. the success of
this manoeuvre tickled Mr Quilp beyond description, and he laughed
and stamped upon the ground as at a most irresistible jest.

'Never mind,' said the boy, nodding his head and rubbing it at
the same time; 'you see if ever I offer to strike anybody again
because they say you're an uglier dwarf than can be seen anywheres
for a penny, that's all.'

'Do you mean to say, I'm not, you dog?' returned Quilp.

'No!' retorted the boy.

'Then what do you fight on my wharf for, you villain?' said
Quilp.

'Because he said so,' replied to boy, pointing to Kit, 'not
because you an't.'

'Then why did he say,' bawled Kit, 'that Miss Nelly was ugly,
and that she and my master was obliged to do whatever his master
liked? Why did he say that?'

'He said what he did because he's a fool, and you said what you
did because you're very wise and clever--almost too clever to live,
unless you're very careful of yourself, Kit.' said Quilp, with great
suavity in his manner, but still more of quiet malice about his eyes
and mouth. 'Here's sixpence for you, Kit. Always speak the truth. At
all times, Kit, speak the truth. Lock the counting-house, you dog,
and bring me the key.'

The other boy, to whom this order was addresed, did as he was
told, and was rewarded for his partizanship in behalf of his master,
by a dexterous rap on the nose with the key, which brought the water
into his eyes. Then Mr Quilp departed with the child and Kit in a
boat, and the boy revenged himself by dancing on his head at
intervals on the extreme verge of the wharf, during the whole time
they crossed the river.

There was only Mrs Quilp at home, and she, little expecting the
return of her lord, was just composing herself for a refreshing
slumber when the sound of his footsteps roused her. She had barely
time to seem to be occupied in some needle-work, when he entered,
accompanied by the child; having left Kit downstairs.

'Here's Nelly Trent, dear Mrs Quilp,' said her husband. 'A glass
of wine, my dear, and a biscuit, for she has had a long walk. She'll
sit with you, my soul, while I write a letter.'

Mrs Quilp looked tremblingly in her spouse's face to know what
this unusual courtesy might portend, and obedient to the summons she
saw in his gesture, followed him into the next room.

'Mind what I say to you,' whispered Quilp. 'See if you can get
out of her anything about her grandfather, or what they do, or how
they live, or what he tells her. I've my reasons for knowing, if I
can. You women talk more freely to one another than you do to us, and
you have a soft, mild way with you that'll win upon her. Do you
hear?'

'Yes, Quilp.'

'Go then. What's the matter now?'

'Dear Quilp,' faltered his wife. 'I love the child--if you could
do without making me deceive her--'

The dwarf muttering a terrible oath looked round as if for some
weapon with which to inflict condign punishment upon his disobedient
wife. the submissive little woman hurriedly entreated him not to be
angry, and promised to do as he bade her.

'Do you hear me,' whispered Quilp, nipping and pinching her arm;
'worm yourself into her secrets; I know you can. I'm listening,
recollect. If you're not sharp enough, I'll creak the door, and woe
betide you if I have to creak it much. Go!'

Mrs Quilp departed according to order, and her amiable husband,
ensconcing himself behind the partly opened door, and applying his
ear close to it, began to listen with a face of great craftiness and
attention.

Poor Mrs Quilp was thinking, however, in what manner to begin or
what kind of inquiries she could make; and it was not until the door,
creaking in a very urgent manner, warned her to proceed without
further consideration, that the sound of her voice was heard.

'How very often you have come backwards and forwards lately to
Mr Quilp, my dear.'

'I have said so to grandfather, a hundred times,' returned Nell
innocently.

'And what has he said to that?'

'Only sighed, and dropped his head, and seemed so sad and
wretched that if you could have seen him I am sure you must have
cried; you could not have helped it more than I, I know. How that
door creaks!'

'It often does.' returned Mrs Quilp, with an uneasy glance
towards it. 'But your grandfather--he used not to be so wretched?'

'Oh, no!' said the child eagerly, 'so different! We were once so
happy and he so cheerful and contented! You cannot think what a sad
change has fallen on us since.'

'I am very, very sorry, to hear you speak like this, my dear!'
said Mrs Quilp. And she spoke the truth.

'Thank you,' returned the child, kissing her cheek, 'you are
always kind to me, and it is a pleasure to talk to you. I can speak
to no one else about him, but poor Kit. I am very happy still, I
ought to feel happier perhaps than I do, but you cannot think how it
grieves me sometimes to see him alter so.'

'He'll alter again, Nelly,' said Mrs Quilp, 'and be what he was
before.'

'Oh, if God would only let that come about!' said the child with
streaming eyes; 'but it is a long time now, since he first began
to--I thought I saw that door moving!'

'It's the wind,' said Mrs Quilp, fainly. 'Began to ---'

'To be so thoughtful and dejected, and to forget our old way ot
spending the time in the long evenings,' said the child. 'I used to
read to him by the fireside, and he sat listening, and when I stopped
and we began to talk, he told me about my mother, and how she once
looked and spoke just like me when she was a little child. Then he
used to take me on his knee, and try to make me understand that she
was not lying in her grave, but had flown to a beautiful country
beyond the sky where nothing died or ever grew old--we were very
happy once!'

'Nelly, Nelly!' said the poor woman, 'I can't bear to see one as
young as you so sorrowful. Pray don't cry.'

'I do so very seldom,' said Nell,' but I have kept this to
myself a long time, and I am not quite well, I think, for the tears
come into my eyes and I cannot keep them back. I don't mind telling
you my grief, for I know you will not tell it to any one again.'

Mrs Quilp turned away her head and made no answer.

'Then,' said the child, 'we often walked in the fields and among
the green trees, and when we came home at night, we liked it better
for being tired, and said what a happy place it was. And if it was
dark and rather dull, we used to say, what did it matter to us, for
it only made us remember our last walk with greater pleasure, and
look forward to our next one. But now we never have these walks, and
though it is the same house it is darker and much more gloomy than it
used to be, indeed!'

She paused here, but though the door creaked more than once, Mrs
Quilp said nothing.

'Mind you don't suppose,' said the child earnestly, 'that
grandfather is less kind to me than he was. I think he loves me
better every day, and is kinder and more afectionate than he was the
day before. You do not know how fond he is of me!'

'I am sure he loves you dearly,' said Mrs Quilp.

'Indeed, indeed he does!' cried Nell, 'as dearly as I love him.
But I have not told you the greatest change of all, and this you must
never breathe again to any one. He has no sleep or rest, but that
which he takes by day in his easy chair; for every night and neary
all night long he is away from home.'

'Nelly!'

'Hush!' said the child, laying her finger on her lip and looking
round. 'When he comes home in the morning, which is generally just
before day, I let him in. Last night he was very late, and it was
quite light. I saw that his face was deadly pale, that his eyes were
bloodshot, and that his legs trembled as he walked. When I had gone
to bed again, I heard him groan. I got up and ran back to him, and
heard him say, before he knew that I was there, that he could not
bear his life much longer, and if it was not for the child, would
wish to die. What shall I do! Oh! What shall I do!'

The fountains of her heart were opened; the child, overpowered
by the weight of her sorrows and anxieties, by the first confidence
she had ever shown, and the sympathy with which her little tale had
been received, hid her face in the arms of her helpless friend, and
burst into a passion of tears.

In a few minutes Mr Quilp returned, and expressed the utmost
surprise to find her in this condtiion, which he did very naturally
and with admirable effect, for that kind of acting had been rendered
familiar to him by long practice, and he was quite at home in it.

'She's tired you see, Mrs Quilp,' said the dwarf, squinting in a
hideous manner to imply that his wife was to follow his lead. 'It's a
long way from her home to the wharf, and then she was alrmed to see a
couple of young scoundrels fighting, and was timorous on the water
besides. All this together has been too much for her. Poor Nell!'

Mr Quilp unintentionally adopted the very best means he could
have devised for the recovery of his young visitor, by patting her on
the head. Such an application from any other hand might not have
produced a remarkable effect, but the child shrank so quickly from
his touch and felt such an instinctive desire to get out of his
reach, that she rose directly and declared herself ready to
return.

'But you'd better wait, and dine with Mrs Quilp and me.' said
the dwarf.

'I have been away too long, sir, already,' returned Nell, drying
her eyes.

'Well,' said Mr Quilp, 'if you will go, you will, Nelly. Here's
the note. It's only to say that I shall see him to-morrow or maybe
next day, and that I couldn't do that little business for him this
morning. Good-bye, Nelly. Here, you sir; take care of her, d'ye
hear?'

Kit, who appeared at the summons, deigned to make no reply to so
needless an injunction, and after staring at Quilp in a threatening
manner, as if he doubted whether he might not have been the cause of
Nelly shedding tears, and felt more than half disposed to revenge the
fact upon him on the mere suspicion, turned about and followed his
young mistress, who had by this time taken her leave of Mrs Quilp and
departed.

'You're a keen questioner, an't you, Mrs Quilp?' said the dwarf,
turning upon her as soon as they were left alone.

'What more could I do?' returned his wife mildly?

'What more could you do!' sneered Quilp, 'couldn't you have done
something less? Couldn't you have done what you had to do, without
appearing in your favourite part of the crocodile, you minx?'

'I am very sorry for the child, Quilp,' said his wife. 'Surely
I've done enough. I've led her on to tell her secret she supposed we
were alone; and you were by, God forgive me.'

'You led her on! You did a great deal truly!' said Quilp. 'What
did I tell you about making me creak the door? It's lucky for you
that from what she let fall, I've got the clue I want, for if I
hadn't, I'd have visited the failure upon you, I can tell you.'

Mrs Quilp being fully persuaded of this, made no reply. Her
husband added with some exultation,

'But you may thank your fortunate stars--the same stars that
made you Mrs Quilp--you may thank them that I'm upon the old
gentleman's track, and have got a new light. So let me hear no more
about this matter now or at any other time, and don't get anything
too nice for dinner, for I shan't be home to it.'

So saying, Mr Quilp put his hat on and took himself off, and Mrs
Quilp, who was afflicted beyond measure by the recollection of the
part she had just acted, shut herself up in her chamber, and
smothering her head in the bed-clothes bemoaned her fault more
bitterly than many less tender-hearted persons would have mourned a
much greater offence; for, in the majority of cases, conscience is an
elastic and very flexible article, which will bear a deal of
stretching and adapt itself to a great variety of circumstances. Some
people by prudent management and leaving it off piece by piece like a
flannel waistcoat in warm weather, even contrive, in time, to
dispense with it altogether; but there be others who can assume the
garment and throw it off at pleasure; and this, being the greatest
and most convenient improvement, is the one most in vogue.