Chapter 13

The Old Curiosity Shop

by Charles Dickens

Daniel Quilp of Tower Hill, and Sampson Brass of Bevis Marks in
the city of London, Gentleman, one of her Majesty's attornies of the
Courts of the King's Bench and Common Pleas at Westminster and a
solicitor of the High Court of Chancery, slumbered on, unconscious
and unsuspicious of any mischance, until a knocking on the street
door, often repeated and gradually mounting up from a modest single
rap to a perfect battery of knocks, fired in long discharges with a
very short interval between, caused the said Daniel Quilp to struggle
into a horizontal position, and to stare at the ceiling with a drowsy
indifference, betokening that he heard the noise and rather wondered
at the same, and couldn't be at the trouble of bestowing any further
thought upon the subject.

As the knocking, however, instead of accommodating itself to his
lazy state, increased in vigour and became more importunate, as if in
earnest remonstrance against his falling asleep again, now that he
had once opened his eyes, Daniel Quilp began by degrees to comprehend
the possibility of there being somebody at the door; and thus he
gradually came to recollect that it was Friday morning, and he had
ordered Mrs Quilp to be in waiting upon him at an early hour.

Mr Brass, after writhing about, in a great many strange
attitudes, and often twisting his face and eyes into an expression
like that which is usually produced by eating gooseberries very early
in the season, was by this time awake also. Seeing that Mr Quilp
invested himself in his every-day garments, he hastened to do the
like, putting on his shoes before his stockings, and thrusting his
legs into his coat sleeves, and making such other small mistakes in
his toilet as are not uncommon to those who dress in a hurry, and
labour under the agitation of having been suddenly roused. While the
attorney was thus engaged, the dwarf was groping under the table,
muttering desperate imprecations on himself, and mankind in general,
and all inanimate objects to boot, which suggested to Mr Brass the
question, 'what's the matter?'

'The key,' said the dwarf, looking viciously about him, 'the
door-key--that's the matter. D'ye know anything of it?'

'How should I know anything of it, sir?' returned Mr Brass.

'How should you?' repeated Quilp with a sneer. 'You're a nice
lawyer, an't you? Ugh, you idiot!'

Not caring to represent to the dwarf in his present humour, that
the loss of a key by another person could scarcely be said to affect
his (Brass's) legal knowledge in any material degree, Mr Brass humbly
suggested that it must have been forgotten over night, and was,
doubtless, at that moment in its native key-hole. Notwithstanding
that Mr Quilp had a strong conviction to the contrary, founded on his
recollection of having carefully taken it out, he was fain to admit
that this was possible, and therefore went grumbling to the door
where, sure enough, he found it.

Now, just as Mr Quilp laid his hand upon the lock, and saw with
great astonishment that the fastenings were undone, the knocking came
again with the most irritating violence, and the daylight which had
been shining through the key-hole was intercepted on the outside by a
human eye. The dwarf was very much exasperated, and wanting somebody
to wreak his ill-humour upon, determined to dart out suddenly, and
favour Mrs Quilp with a gentle acknowledgment of her attention in
making that hideous uproar.

With this view, he drew back the lock very silently and softly,
and opening the door all at once, pounced out upon the person on the
other side, who had at that moment raised the knocker for another
application, and at whom the dwarf ran head first: throwing out his
hands and feet together, and biting the air in the fulness of his
malice.

So far, however, from rushing upon somebody who offered no
resistance and implored his mercy, Mr Quilp was no sooner in the arms
of the individual whom he had taken for his wife than he found
himself complimented with two staggering blows on the head, and two
more, of the same quality, in the chest; and closing with his
assailant, such a shower of buffets rained down upon his person as
sufficed to convince him that he was in skilful and experienced
hands. Nothing daunted by this reception, he clung tight to his
opponent, and bit and hammered away with such good-will and
heartiness, that it was at least a couple of minutes before he was
dislodged. Then, and not until then, Daniel Quilp found himself, all
flushed and dishevelled, in the middle of the street, with Mr Richard
Swiveller performing a kind of dance round him and requiring to know
'whether he wanted any more?'

'There's plenty more of it at the same shop,' said Mr Swiveller,
by turns advancing and retreating in a threatening attitude, 'a large
and extensive assortment always on hand--country orders executed with
promptitude and despatch--will you have a little more, Sir-- don't
say no, if you'd rather not.'

'I thought it was somebody else,' said Quilp, rubbing his
shoulders, 'why didn't you say who you were?'

'Why didn't you say who you were?' returned Dick, 'instead of
flying out of the house like a Bedlamite ?'

'It was you that--that knocked,' said the dwarf, getting up with
a short groan, 'was it?'

'Yes, I am the man,' replied Dick. 'That lady had begun when I
came, but she knocked too soft, so I relieved her.' As he said this,
he pointed towards Mrs Quilp, who stood trembling at a little
distance.

'Humph!' muttered the dwarf, darting an angry look at his wife,
'I thought it was your fault! And you, sir--don't you know there has
been somebody ill here, that you knock as if you'd beat the door
down?'

'Damme!' answered Dick, 'that's why I did it. I thought there
was somebody dead here.'

'You came for some purpose, I suppose,' said Quilp. 'What is it
you want?'

'I want to know how the old gentleman is,' rejoined Mr
Swiveller, 'and to hear from Nell herself, with whom I should like to
have a little talk. I'm a friend of the family, sir--at least I'm
the friend of one of the family, and that's the same thing.'

'You'd better walk in then,' said the dwarf. 'Go on, sir, go
on. Now, Mrs Quilp--after you, ma'am.'

Mrs Quilp hesitated, but Mr Quilp insisted. And it was not a
contest of politeness, or by any means a matter of form, for she knew
very well that her husband wished to enter the house in this order,
that he might have a favourable opportunity of inflicting a few
pinches on her arms, which were seldom free from impressions of his
fingers in black and blue colours. Mr Swiveller, who was not in the
secret, was a little surprised to hear a suppressed scream, and,
looking round, to see Mrs Quilp following him with a sudden jerk; but
he did not remark on these appearances, and soon forgot them.

'Now, Mrs Quilp,' said the dwarf when they had entered the shop,
'go you up stairs, if you please, to Nelly's room, and tell her that
she's wanted.'

'You seem to make yourself at home here,' said Dick, who was
unacquainted with Mr Quilp's authority.

'I am at home, young gentleman,' returned the dwarf.

Dick was pondering what these words might mean, and still more
what the presence of Mr Brass might mean, when Mrs Quilp came
hurrying down stairs, declaring that the rooms above were empty.

'Empty, you fool!' said the dwarf.

'I give you my word, Quilp,' answered his trembling wife, 'that
I have been into every room and there's not a soul in any of
them.'

'And that,' said Mr Brass, clapping his hands once, with an
emphasis, 'explains the mystery of the key!'

Quilp looked frowningly at him, and frowningly at his wife, and
frowningly at Richard Swiveller; but, receiving no enlightenment from
any of them, hurried up stairs, whence he soon hurried down again,
confirming the report which had already been made.

'It's a strange way of going,' he said, glancing at Swiveller,
'very strange not to communicate with me who am such a close and
intimate friend of his! Ah! he'll write to me no doubt, or he'll bid
Nelly write--yes, yes, that's what he'll do. Nelly's very fond of
me. Pretty Nell!'

Mr Swiveller looked, as he was, all open-mouthed astonishment.
Still glancing furtively at him, Quilp turned to Mr Brass and
observed, with assumed carelessness, that this need not interfere
with the removal of the goods.

'For indeed,' he added, 'we knew that they'd go away to-day, but
not that they'd go so early, or so quietly. But they have their
reasons, they have their reasons.'

'Where in the devil's name are they gone?' said the wondering
Dick.

Quilp shook his head, and pursed up his lips, in a manner which
implied that he knew very well, but was not at liberty to say.

'And what,' said Dick, looking at the confusion about him, 'what
do you mean by moving the goods?'

'That I have bought 'em, Sir,' rejoined Quilp. 'Eh? What
then?'

'Has the sly old fox made his fortune then, and gone to live in
a tranquil cot in a pleasant spot with a distant view of the changing
sea?' said Dick, in great bewilderment.

'Keeping his place of retirement very close, that he may not be
visited too often by affectionate grandsons and their devoted
friends, eh?' added the dwarf, rubbing his hands hard; 'I say
nothing, but is that your meaning?'

Richard Swiveller was utterly aghast at this unexpected
alteration of circumstances, which threatened the complete overthrow
of the project in which he bore so conspicuous a part, and seemed to
nip his prospects in the bud. Having only received from Frederick
Trent, late on the previous night, information of the old man's
illness, he had come upon a visit of condolence and inquiry to Nell,
prepared with the first instalment of that long train of fascinations
which was to fire her heart at last. And here, when he had been
thinking of all kinds of graceful and insinuating approaches, and
meditating on the fearful retaliation which was slowly working
against Sophy Wackles--here were Nell, the old man, and all the money
gone, melted away, decamped he knew not whither, as if with a
fore-knowledge of the scheme and a resolution to defeat it in the
very outset, before a step was taken.

In his secret heart, Daniel Quilp was both surprised and
troubled by the flight which had been made. It had not escaped his
keen eye that some indispensable articles of clothing were gone with
the fugitives, and knowing the old man's weak state of mind, he
marvelled what that course of proceeding might be in which he had so
readily procured the concurrence of the child. It must not be
supposed (or it would be a gross injustice to Mr Quilp) that he was
tortured by any disinterested anxiety on behalf of either. His
uneasiness arose from a misgiving that the old man had some secret
store of money which he had not suspected; and the idea of its
escaping his clutches, overwhelmed him with mortification and
self-reproach.

In this frame of mind, it was some consolation to him to find
that Richard Swiveller was, for different reasons, evidently
irritated and disappointed by the same cause. It was plain, thought
the dwarf, that he had come there, on behalf of his friend, to cajole
or frighten the old man out of some small fraction of that wealth of
which they supposed him to have an abundance. Therefore, it was a
relief to vex his heart with a picture of the riches the old man
hoarded, and to expatiate on his cunning in removing himself even
beyond the reach of importunity.

'Well,' said Dick, with a blank look, 'I suppose it's of no use
my staying here.'

'Not the least in the world,' rejoined the dwarf.

'You'll mention that I called, perhaps?' said Dick.

Mr Quilp nodded, and said he certainly would, the very first
time he saw them.

'And say,' added Mr Swiveller, 'say, sir, that I was wafted here
upon the pinions of concord; that I came to remove, with the rake of
friendship, the seeds of mutual violence and heart-burning, and to
sow in their place, the germs of social harmony. Will you have the
goodness to charge yourself with that commission, Sir?'

'Certainly!' rejoined Quilp.

'Will you be kind enough to add to it, Sir,' said Dick,
producing a very small limp card, 'that that is my address, and that
I am to be found at home every morning. Two distinct knocks, sir,
will produce the slavey at any time. My particular friends, Sir, are
accustomed to sneeze when the door is opened, to give her to
understand that they are my friends and have no interested motives in
asking if I'm at home. I beg your pardon; will you allow me to look
at that card again?'

'Oh! by all means,' rejoined Quilp.

'By a slight and not unnatural mistake, sir,' said Dick,
substituting another in its stead, 'I had handed you the pass- ticket
of a select convivial circle called the Glorious Apollers of which I
have the honour to be Perpetual Grand. That is the proper document,
Sir. Good morning.'

Quilp bade him good day; the perpetual Grand Master of the
Glorious Apollers, elevating his hat in honour of Mrs Quilp, dropped
it carelessly on the side of his head again, and disappeared with a
flourish.

By this time, certain vans had arrived for the conveyance of the
goods, and divers strong men in caps were balancing chests of drawers
and other trifles of that nature upon their heads, and performing
muscular feats which heightened their complexions considerably. Not
to be behind-hand in the bustle, Mr Quilp went to work with
surprising vigour; hustling and driving the people about, like an
evil spirit; setting Mrs Quilp upon all kinds of arduous and
impracticable tasks; carrying great weights up and down, with no
apparent effort; kicking the boy from the wharf, whenever he could
get near him; and inflicting, with his loads, a great many sly bumps
and blows on the shoulders of Mr Brass, as he stood upon the
door-steps to answer all the inquiries of curious neighbours, which
was his department. His presence and example diffused such alacrity
among the persons employed, that, in a few hours, the house was
emptied of everything, but pieces of matting, empty porter-pots, and
scattered fragments of straw.

Seated, like an African chief, on one of these pieces of
matting, the dwarf was regaling himself in the parlour, with bread
and cheese and beer, when he observed without appearing to do so,
that a boy was prying in at the outer door. Assured that it was Kit,
though he saw little more than his nose, Mr Quilp hailed him by his
name; whereupon Kit came in and demanded what he wanted.

'Come here, you sir,' said the dwarf. 'Well, so your old master
and young mistress have gone?'

'Where?' rejoined Kit, looking round.

'Do you mean to say you don't know where?' answered Quilp
sharply. 'Where have they gone, eh?'

'I don't know,' said Kit.

'Come,' retorted Quilp, 'let's have no more of this! Do you
mean to say that you don't know they went away by stealth, as soon as
it was light this morning?'

'No,' said the boy, in evident surprise.

'You don't know that?' cried Quilp. 'Don't I know that you were
hanging about the house the other night, like a thief, eh? Weren't
you told then?'

'No,' replied the boy.

'You were not?' said Quilp. 'What were you told then; what were
you talking about?'

Kit, who knew no particular reason why he should keep the matter
secret now, related the purpose for which he had come on that
occasion, and the proposal he had made.

'Oh!' said the dwarf after a little consideration. 'Then, I
think they'll come to you yet.'

'Do you think they will?' cried Kit eagerly.

'Aye, I think they will,' returned the dwarf. 'Now, when they
do, let me know; d'ye hear? Let me know, and I'll give you
something. I want to do 'em a kindness, and I can't do 'em a kindness
unless I know where they are. You hear what I say?'

Kit might have returned some answer which would not have been
agreeable to his irascible questioner, if the boy from the wharf, who
had been skulking about the room in search of anything that might
have been left about by accident, had not happened to cry, 'Here's a
bird! What's to be done with this?'

'Wring its neck,' rejoined Quilp.

'Oh no, don't do that,' said Kit, stepping forward. 'Give it to
me.'

'Oh yes, I dare say,' cried the other boy. 'Come! You let the
cage alone, and let me wring its neck will you? He said I was to do
it. You let the cage alone will you.'

'Give it here, give it to me, you dogs,' roared Quilp. 'Fight
for it, you dogs, or I'll wring its neck myself!'

Without further persuasion, the two boys fell upon each other,
tooth and nail, while Quilp, holding up the cage in one hand, and
chopping the ground with his knife in an ecstasy, urged them on by
his taunts and cries to fight more fiercely. They were a pretty
equal match, and rolled about together, exchanging blows which were
by no means child's play, until at length Kit, planting a
well-directed hit in his adversary's chest, disengaged himself,
sprung nimbly up, and snatching the cage from Quilp's hands made off
with his prize.

He did not stop once until he reached home, where his bleeding
face occasioned great consternation, and caused the elder child to
howl dreadfully.

'Goodness gracious, Kit, what is the matter, what have you been
doing?' cried Mrs Nubbles.

'Never you mind, mother,' answered her son, wiping his face on
the jack-towel behind the door. 'I'm not hurt, don't you be afraid
for me. I've been a fightin' for a bird and won him, that's all.
Hold your noise, little Jacob. I never see such a naughty boy in all
my days!'

'You have been fighting for a bird!' exclaimed his mother.

'Ah! Fightin' for a bird!' replied Kit, 'and here he is--Miss
Nelly's bird, mother, that they was agoin' to wring the neck of! I
stopped that though--ha ha ha! They wouldn't wring his neck and me
by, no, no. It wouldn't do, mother, it wouldn't do at all. Ha ha
ha!'

Kit laughing so heartily, with his swoln and bruised face
looking out of the towel, made little Jacob laugh, and then his
mother laughed. and then the baby crowed and kicked with great glee,
and then they all laughed in concert: partly because of Kit's
triumph, and partly because they were very fond of each other. When
this fit was over, Kit exhibited the bird to both children, as a
great and precious rarity--it was only a poor linnet--and looking
about the wall for an old nail, made a scaffolding of a chair and
table and twisted it out with great exultation.

'Let me see,' said the boy, 'I think I'll hang him in the
winder, because it's more light and cheerful, and he can see the sky
there, if he looks up very much. He's such a one to sing, I can tell
you!'

So, the scaffolding was made again, and Kit, climbing up with
the poker for a hammer, knocked in the nail and hung up the cage, to
the immeasurable delight of the whole family. When it had been
adjusted and straightened a great many times, and he had walked
backwards into the fire-place in his admiration of it, the
arrangement was pronounced to be perfect.

'And now, mother,' said the boy, 'before I rest any more, I'll
go out and see if I can find a horse to hold, and then I can buy some
birdseed, and a bit of something nice for you, into the bargain.'