الفصل الفصل 5 · 第5章

Whether Mr Quilp took any sleep by snatches of a few winks at a time,

or whether he sat with his eyes wide open all night long, certain it is

that he kept his cigar alight, and kindled every fresh one from the

ashes of that which was nearly consumed, without requiring the

assistance of a candle. Nor did the striking of the clocks, hour after

hour, appear to inspire him with any sense of drowsiness or any natural

desire to go to rest, but rather to increase his wakefulness, which he

showed, at every such indication of the progress of the night, by a

suppressed cackling in his throat, and a motion of his shoulders, like

one who laughs heartily but the same time slyly and by stealth.

At length the day broke, and poor Mrs Quilp, shivering with cold of

early morning and harassed by fatigue and want of sleep, was discovered

sitting patiently on her chair, raising her eyes at intervals in mute

appeal to the compassion and clemency of her lord, and gently reminding

him by an occasion cough that she was still unpardoned and that her

penance had been of long duration. But her dwarfish spouse still smoked

his cigar and drank his rum without heeding her; and it was not until

the sun had some time risen, and the activity and noise of city day

were rife in the street, that he deigned to recognize her presence by

any word or sign. He might not have done so even then, but for certain

impatient tapping at the door he seemed to denote that some pretty hard

knuckles were actively engaged upon the other side.

‘Why dear me!’ he said looking round with a malicious grin, ‘it’s day.

Open the door, sweet Mrs Quilp!’

His obedient wife withdrew the bolt, and her lady mother entered.

Now, Mrs Jiniwin bounced into the room with great impetuosity; for,

supposing her son-in-law to be still a-bed, she had come to relieve her

feelings by pronouncing a strong opinion upon his general conduct and

character. Seeing that he was up and dressed, and that the room

appeared to have been occupied ever since she quitted it on the

previous evening, she stopped short, in some embarrassment.

Nothing escaped the hawk’s eye of the ugly little man, who, perfectly

understanding what passed in the old lady’s mind, turned uglier still

in the fulness of his satisfaction, and bade her good morning, with a

leer or triumph.

‘Why, Betsy,’ said the old woman, ‘you haven’t been--you don’t mean to

say you’ve been a--’

‘Sitting up all night?’ said Quilp, supplying the conclusion of the

sentence. ‘Yes she has!’

‘All night?’ cried Mrs Jiniwin.

‘Ay, all night. Is the dear old lady deaf?’ said Quilp, with a smile of

which a frown was part. ‘Who says man and wife are bad company? Ha ha!

The time has flown.’

‘You’re a brute!’ exclaimed Mrs Jiniwin.

‘Come come,’ said Quilp, wilfully misunderstanding her, of course, ‘you

mustn’t call her names. She’s married now, you know. And though she did

beguile the time and keep me from my bed, you must not be so tenderly

careful of me as to be out of humour with her. Bless you for a dear

old lady. Here’s to your health!’

‘I am much obliged to you,’ returned the old woman, testifying by a

certain restlessness in her hands a vehement desire to shake her

matronly fist at her son-in-law. ‘Oh! I’m very much obliged to you!’

‘Grateful soul!’ cried the dwarf. ‘Mrs Quilp.’

‘Yes, Quilp,’ said the timid sufferer.

‘Help your mother to get breakfast, Mrs Quilp. I am going to the wharf

this morning--the earlier the better, so be quick.’

Mrs Jiniwin made a faint demonstration of rebellion by sitting down in

a chair near the door and folding her arms as if in a resolute

determination to do nothing. But a few whispered words from her

daughter, and a kind inquiry from her son-in-law whether she felt

faint, with a hint that there was abundance of cold water in the next

apartment, routed these symptoms effectually, and she applied herself

to the prescribed preparations with sullen diligence.

While they were in progress, Mr Quilp withdrew to the adjoining room,

and, turning back his coat-collar, proceeded to smear his countenance

with a damp towel of very unwholesome appearance, which made his

complexion rather more cloudy than it was before. But, while he was

thus engaged, his caution and inquisitiveness did not forsake him, for

with a face as sharp and cunning as ever, he often stopped, even in

this short process, and stood listening for any conversation in the

next room, of which he might be the theme.

‘Ah!’ he said after a short effort of attention, ‘it was not the towel

over my ears, I thought it wasn’t. I’m a little hunchy villain and a

monster, am I, Mrs Jiniwin? Oh!’

The pleasure of this discovery called up the old doglike smile in full

force. When he had quite done with it, he shook himself in a very

doglike manner, and rejoined the ladies.

Mr Quilp now walked up to front of a looking-glass, and was standing

there putting on his neckerchief, when Mrs Jiniwin happening to be

behind him, could not resist the inclination she felt to shake her fist

at her tyrant son-in-law. It was the gesture of an instant, but as she

did so and accompanied the action with a menacing look, she met his eye

in the glass, catching her in the very act. The same glance at the

mirror conveyed to her the reflection of a horribly grotesque and

distorted face with the tongue lolling out; and the next instant the

dwarf, turning about with a perfectly bland and placid look, inquired

in a tone of great affection.

‘How are you now, my dear old darling?’

Slight and ridiculous as the incident was, it made him appear such a

little fiend, and withal such a keen and knowing one, that the old

woman felt too much afraid of him to utter a single word, and suffered

herself to be led with extraordinary politeness to the breakfast-table.

Here he by no means diminished the impression he had just produced, for

he ate hard eggs, shell and all, devoured gigantic prawns with the

heads and tails on, chewed tobacco and water-cresses at the same time

and with extraordinary greediness, drank boiling tea without winking,

bit his fork and spoon till they bent again, and in short performed so

many horrifying and uncommon acts that the women were nearly frightened

out of their wits, and began to doubt if he were really a human

creature. At last, having gone through these proceedings and many

others which were equally a part of his system, Mr Quilp left them,

reduced to a very obedient and humbled state, and betook himself to the

river-side, where he took boat for the wharf on which he had bestowed

his name.

It was flood tide when Daniel Quilp sat himself down in the ferry to

cross to the opposite shore. A fleet of barges were coming lazily on,

some sideways, some head first, some stern first; all in a

wrong-headed, dogged, obstinate way, bumping up against the larger

craft, running under the bows of steamboats, getting into every kind of

nook and corner where they had no business, and being crunched on all

sides like so many walnut-shells; while each with its pair of long

sweeps struggling and splashing in the water looked like some lumbering

fish in pain. In some of the vessels at anchor all hands were busily

engaged in coiling ropes, spreading out sails to dry, taking in or

discharging their cargoes; in others no life was visible but two or

three tarry boys, and perhaps a barking dog running to and fro upon the

deck or scrambling up to look over the side and bark the louder for the

view. Coming slowly on through the forests of masts was a great

steamship, beating the water in short impatient strokes with her heavy

paddles as though she wanted room to breathe, and advancing in her huge

bulk like a sea monster among the minnows of the Thames. On either hand

were long black tiers of colliers; between them vessels slowly working

out of harbour with sails glistening in the sun, and creaking noise on

board, re-echoed from a hundred quarters. The water and all upon it was

in active motion, dancing and buoyant and bubbling up; while the old

grey Tower and piles of building on the shore, with many a church-spire

shooting up between, looked coldly on, and seemed to disdain their

chafing, restless neighbour.

Daniel Quilp, who was not much affected by a bright morning save in so

far as it spared him the trouble of carrying an umbrella, caused

himself to be put ashore hard by the wharf, and proceeded thither

through a narrow lane which, partaking of the amphibious character of

its frequenters, had as much water as mud in its composition, and a

very liberal supply of both. Arrived at his destination, the first

object that presented itself to his view was a pair of very imperfectly

shod feet elevated in the air with the soles upwards, which remarkable

appearance was referable to the boy, who being of an eccentric spirit

and having a natural taste for tumbling, was now standing on his head

and contemplating the aspect of the river under these uncommon

circumstances. He was speedily brought on his heels by the sound of his

master’s voice, and as soon as his head was in its right position, Mr

Quilp, to speak expressively in the absence of a better verb, ‘punched

it’ for him.

‘Come, you let me alone,’ said the boy, parrying Quilp’s hand with both

his elbows alternatively. ‘You’ll get something you won’t like if you

don’t and so I tell you.’

‘You dog,’ snarled Quilp, ‘I’ll beat you with an iron rod, I’ll scratch

you with a rusty nail, I’ll pinch your eyes, if you talk to me--I will.’

With these threats he clenched his hand again, and dexterously diving

in between the elbows and catching the boy’s head as it dodged from

side to side, gave it three or four good hard knocks. Having now

carried his point and insisted on it, he left off.

‘You won’t do it agin,’ said the boy, nodding his head and drawing

back, with the elbows ready in case of the worst; ‘now--’

‘Stand still, you dog,’ said Quilp. ‘I won’t do it again, because I’ve

done it as often as I want. Here. Take the key.’

‘Why don’t you hit one of your size?’ said the boy approaching very

slowly.

‘Where is there one of my size, you dog?’ returned Quilp. ‘Take the

key, or I’ll brain you with it’--indeed he gave him a smart tap with

the handle as he spoke. ‘Now, open the counting-house.’

The boy sulkily complied, muttering at first, but desisting when he

looked round and saw that Quilp was following him with a steady look.

And here it may be remarked, that between this boy and the dwarf there

existed a strange kind of mutual liking. How born or bred, and or

nourished upon blows and threats on one side, and retorts and defiances

on the other, is not to the purpose. Quilp would certainly suffer

nobody to contract him but the boy, and the boy would assuredly not

have submitted to be so knocked about by anybody but Quilp, when he had

the power to run away at any time he chose.

‘Now,’ said Quilp, passing into the wooden counting-house, ‘you mind

the wharf. Stand upon your head agin, and I’ll cut one of your feet

off.’

The boy made no answer, but directly Quilp had shut himself in, stood

on his head before the door, then walked on his hands to the back and

stood on his head there, and then to the opposite side and repeated the

performance. There were indeed four sides to the counting-house, but he

avoided that one where the window was, deeming it probable that Quilp

would be looking out of it. This was prudent, for in point of fact, the

dwarf, knowing his disposition, was lying in wait at a little distance

from the sash armed with a large piece of wood, which, being rough and

jagged and studded in many parts with broken nails, might possibly have

hurt him.

It was a dirty little box, this counting-house, with nothing in it but

an old ricketty desk and two stools, a hat-peg, an ancient almanack, an

inkstand with no ink, and the stump of one pen, and an eight-day clock

which hadn’t gone for eighteen years at least, and of which the

minute-hand had been twisted off for a tooth-pick. Daniel Quilp pulled

his hat over his brows, climbed on to the desk (which had a flat top)

and stretching his short length upon it went to sleep with ease of an

old practitioner; intending, no doubt, to compensate himself for the

deprivation of last night’s rest, by a long and sound nap.

Sound it might have been, but long it was not, for he had not been

asleep a quarter of an hour when the boy opened the door and thrust in

his head, which was like a bundle of badly-picked oakum. Quilp was a

light sleeper and started up directly.

‘Here’s somebody for you,’ said the boy.

‘Who?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Ask!’ said Quilp, seizing the trifle of wood before mentioned and

throwing it at him with such dexterity that it was well the boy

disappeared before it reached the spot on which he had stood. ‘Ask, you

dog.’

Not caring to venture within range of such missles again, the boy

discreetly sent in his stead the first cause of the interruption, who

now presented herself at the door.

‘What, Nelly!’ cried Quilp.

‘Yes,’ said the child, hesitating whether to enter or retreat, for the

dwarf just roused, with his dishevelled hair hanging all about him and

a yellow handkerchief over his head, was something fearful to behold;

it’s only me, sir.’

‘Come in,’ said Quilp, without getting off the desk. ‘Come in. Stay.

Just look out into the yard, and see whether there’s a boy standing on

his head.’

‘No, sir,’ replied Nell. ‘He’s on his feet.’

‘You’re sure he is?’ said Quilp. ‘Well. Now, come in and shut the door.

What’s your message, Nelly?’

The child handed him a letter. Mr Quilp, without changing his position

further than to turn over a little more on his side and rest his chin

on his hand, proceeded to make himself acquainted with its contents.