Chapter 20

The Old Curiosity Shop

by Charles Dickens

Day after day as he bent his steps homeward, returning from some
new effort to procure employment, Kit raised his eyes to the window
of the little room he had so much commended to the child, and hoped
to see some indication of her presence. His own earnest wish,
coupled with the assurance he had received from Quilp, filled him
with the belief that she would yet arrive to claim the humble shelter
he had offered, and from the death of each day's hope another hope
sprung up to live to-morrow.

'I think they must certainly come to-morrow, eh mother?' said
Kit, laying aside his hat with a weary air and sighing as he spoke.
'They have been gone a week. They surely couldn't stop away more
than a week, could they now?'

The mother shook her head, and reminded him how often he had
been disappointed already.

'For the matter of that,' said Kit, 'you speak true and sensible
enough, as you always do, mother. Still, I do consider that a week
is quite long enough for 'em to be rambling about; don't you say
so?'

'Quite long enough, Kit, longer than enough, but they may not
come back for all that.'

Kit was for a moment disposed to be vexed by this contradiction,
and not the less so from having anticipated it in his own mind and
knowing how just it was. But the impulse was only momentary, and the
vexed look became a kind one before it had crossed the room.

'Then what do you think, mother, has become of 'em? You don't
think they've gone to sea, anyhow?'

'Not gone for sailors, certainly,' returned the mother with a
smile. 'But I can't help thinking that they have gone to some
foreign country.'

'I say,' cried Kit with a rueful face, 'don't talk like that,
mother.'

'I am afraid they have, and that's the truth,' she said. 'It's
the talk of all the neighbours, and there are some even that know of
their having been seen on board ship, and can tell you the name of
the place they've gone to, which is more than I can, my dear, for
it's a very hard one.'

'I don't believe it,' said Kit. 'Not a word of it. A set of
idle chatterboxes, how should they know!'

'They may be wrong of course,' returned the mother, 'I can't
tell about that, though I don't think it's at all unlikely that
they're in the right, for the talk is that the old gentleman had put
by a little money that nobody knew of, not even that ugly little man
you talk to me about--what's his name--Quilp; and that he and Miss
Nell have gone to live abroad where it can't be taken from them, and
they will never be disturbed. That don't seem very far out of the
way now, do it?'

Kit scratched his head mournfully, in reluctant admission that
it did not, and clambering up to the old nail took down the cage and
set himself to clean it and to feed the bird. His thoughts reverting
from this occupation to the little old gentleman who had given him
the shilling, he suddenly recollected that that was the very
day--nay, nearly the very hour--at which the little old gentleman had
said he should be at the Notary's house again. He no sooner
remembered this, than he hung up the cage with great precipitation,
and hastily explaining the nature of his errand, went off at full
speed to the appointed place.

It was some two minutes after the time when he reached the spot,
which was a considerable distance from his home, but by great good
luck the little old gentleman had not yet arrived; at least there was
no pony-chaise to be seen, and it was not likely that he had come and
gone again in so short a space. Greatly relieved to find that he was
not too late, Kit leant against a lamp-post to take breath, and
waited the advent of the pony and his charge.

Sure enough, before long the pony came trotting round the corner
of the street, looking as obstinate as pony might, and picking his
steps as if he were spying about for the cleanest places, and would
by no means dirty his feet or hurry himself inconveniently. Behind
the pony sat the little old gentleman, and by the old gentleman's
side sat the little old lady, carrying just such a nosegay as she had
brought before.

The old gentleman, the old lady, the pony, and the chaise, came
up the street in perfect unanimity, until they arrived within some
half a dozen doors of the Notary's house, when the pony, deceived by
a brass-plate beneath a tailor's knocker, came to a halt, and
maintained by a sturdy silence, that that was the house they
wanted.

'Now, Sir, will you ha' the goodness to go on; this is not the
place,' said the old gentleman.

The pony looked with great attention into a fire-plug which was
near him, and appeared to be quite absorbed in contemplating it.

'Oh dear, such a naughty Whisker" cried the old lady. 'After
being so good too, and coming along so well! I am quite ashamed of
him. I don't know what we are to do with him, I really don't.'

The pony having thoroughly satisfied himself as to the nature
and properties of the fire-plug, looked into the air after his old
enemies the flies, and as there happened to be one of them tickling
his ear at that moment he shook his head and whisked his tail, after
which he appeared full of thought but quite comfortable and
collected. The old gentleman having exhausted his powers of
persuasion, alighted to lead him; whereupon the pony, perhaps because
he held this to be a sufficient concession, perhaps because he
happened to catch sight of the other brass-plate, or perhaps because
he was in a spiteful humour, darted off with the old lady and stopped
at the right house, leaving the old gentleman to come panting on
behind.

It was then that Kit presented himself at the pony's head, and
touched his hat with a smile.

'Why, bless me,' cried the old gentleman, 'the lad is here! My
dear, do you see?'

'I said I'd be here, Sir,' said Kit, patting Whisker's neck. 'I
hope you've had a pleasant ride, sir. He's a very nice little
pony.'

'My dear,' said the old gentleman. 'This is an uncommon lad; a
good lad, I'm sure.'

'I'm sure he is,' rejoined the old lady. 'A very good lad, and
I am sure he is a good son.'

Kit acknowledged these expressions of confidence by touching his
hat again and blushing very much. The old gentleman then handed the
old lady out, and after looking at him with an approving smile, they
went into the house--talking about him as they went, Kit could not
help feeling. Presently Mr Witherden, smelling very hard at the
nosegay, came to the window and looked at him, and after that Mr Abel
came and looked at him, and after that the old gentleman and lady
came and looked at him again, and after that they all came and looked
at him together, which Kit, feeling very much embarrassed by, made a
pretence of not observing. Therefore he patted the pony more and
more; and this liberty the pony most handsomely permitted.

The faces had not disappeared from the window many moments, when
Mr Chuckster in his official coat, and with his hat hanging on his
head just as it happened to fall from its peg, appeared upon the
pavement, and telling him he was wanted inside, bade him go in and he
would mind the chaise the while. In giving him this direction Mr
Chuckster remarked that he wished that he might be blessed if he
could make out whether he (Kit) was 'precious raw' or 'precious
deep,' but intimated by a distrustful shake of the head, that he
inclined to the latter opinion.

Kit entered the office in a great tremor, for he was not used to
going among strange ladies and gentlemen, and the tin boxes and
bundles of dusty papers had in his eyes an awful and venerable air.
Mr Witherden too was a bustling gentleman who talked loud and fast,
and all eyes were upon him, and he was very shabby.

'Well, boy,' said Mr Witherden, 'you came to work out that
shilling;--not to get another, hey?'

'No indeed, sir,' replied Kit, taking courage to look up. 'I
never thought of such a thing.'

'Father alive?' said the Notary.

'Dead, sir.'

'Mother?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Married again--eh?'

Kit made answer, not without some indignation, that she was a
widow with three children, and that as to her marrying again, if the
gentleman knew her he wouldn't think of such a thing. At this reply
Mr Witherden buried his nose in the flowers again, and whispered
behind the nosegay to the old gentleman that he believed the lad was
as honest a lad as need be.

'Now,' said Mr Garland when they had made some further inquiries
of him, 'I am not going to give you anything--'

'Thank you, sir,' Kit replied; and quite seriously too, for this
announcement seemed to free him from the suspicion which the Notary
had hinted.

'--But,' resumed the old gentleman, 'perhaps I may want to know
something more about you, so tell me where you live, and I'll put it
down in my pocket-book.'

Kit told him, and the old gentleman wrote down the address with
his pencil. He had scarcely done so, when there was a great uproar
in the street, and the old lady hurrying to the window cried that
Whisker had run away, upon which Kit darted out to the rescue, and
the others followed.

It seemed that Mr Chuckster had been standing with his hands in
his pockets looking carelessly at the pony, and occasionally
insulting him with such admonitions as 'Stand still,'--'Be quiet,'--
'Wo-a-a,' and the like, which by a pony of spirit cannot be borne.
Consequently, the pony being deterred by no considerations of duty or
obedience, and not having before him the slightest fear of the human
eye, had at length started off, and was at that moment rattling down
the street--Mr Chuckster, with his hat off and a pen behind his ear,
hanging on in the rear of the chaise and making futile attempts to
draw it the other way, to the unspeakable admiration of all
beholders. Even in running away, however, Whisker was perverse, for
he had not gone very far when he suddenly stopped, and before
assistance could be rendered, commenced backing at nearly as quick a
pace as he had gone forward. By these means Mr Chuckster was pushed
and hustled to the office again, in a most inglorious manner, and
arrived in a state of great exhaustion and discomfiture.

The old lady then stepped into her seat, and Mr Abel (whom they
had come to fetch) into his. The old gentleman, after reasoning with
the pony on the extreme impropriety of his conduct, and making the
best amends in his power to Mr Chuckster, took his place also, and
they drove away, waving a farewell to the Notary and his clerk, and
more than once turning to nod kindly to Kit as he watched them from
the road.