บทที่ บทที่ 23 · 第23章

Mr Richard Swiveller wending homeward from the Wilderness (for such was

the appropriate name of Quilp’s choice retreat), after a sinuous and

corkscrew fashion, with many checks and stumbles; after stopping

suddenly and staring about him, then as suddenly running forward for a

few paces, and as suddenly halting again and shaking his head; doing

everything with a jerk and nothing by premeditation;--Mr Richard

Swiveller wending his way homeward after this fashion, which is

considered by evil-minded men to be symbolical of intoxication, and is

not held by such persons to denote that state of deep wisdom and

reflection in which the actor knows himself to be, began to think that

possibly he had misplaced his confidence and that the dwarf might not

be precisely the sort of person to whom to entrust a secret of such

delicacy and importance. And being led and tempted on by this

remorseful thought into a condition which the evil-minded class before

referred to would term the maudlin state or stage of drunkenness, it

occurred to Mr Swiveller to cast his hat upon the ground, and moan,

crying aloud that he was an unhappy orphan, and that if he had not been

an unhappy orphan things had never come to this.

‘Left an infant by my parents, at an early age,’ said Mr Swiveller,

bewailing his hard lot, ‘cast upon the world in my tenderest period,

and thrown upon the mercies of a deluding dwarf, who can wonder at my

weakness! Here’s a miserable orphan for you. Here,’ said Mr Swiveller

raising his voice to a high pitch, and looking sleepily round, ‘is a

miserable orphan!’

‘Then,’ said somebody hard by, ‘let me be a father to you.’

Mr Swiveller swayed himself to and fro to preserve his balance, and,

looking into a kind of haze which seemed to surround him, at last

perceived two eyes dimly twinkling through the mist, which he observed

after a short time were in the neighbourhood of a nose and mouth.

Casting his eyes down towards that quarter in which, with reference to

a man’s face, his legs are usually to be found, he observed that the

face had a body attached; and when he looked more intently he was

satisfied that the person was Mr Quilp, who indeed had been in his

company all the time, but whom he had some vague idea of having left a

mile or two behind.

‘You have deceived an orphan, Sir,’ said Mr Swiveller solemnly.’

‘I! I’m a second father to you,’ replied Quilp.

‘You my father, Sir!’ retorted Dick. ‘Being all right myself, Sir, I

request to be left alone--instantly, Sir.’

‘What a funny fellow you are!’ cried Quilp.

‘Go, Sir,’ returned Dick, leaning against a post and waving his hand.

‘Go, deceiver, go, some day, Sir, p’r’aps you’ll waken, from pleasure’s

dream to know, the grief of orphans forsaken. Will you go, Sir?’

The dwarf taking no heed of this adjuration, Mr Swiveller advanced with

the view of inflicting upon him condign chastisement. But forgetting

his purpose or changing his mind before he came close to him, he seized

his hand and vowed eternal friendship, declaring with an agreeable

frankness that from that time forth they were brothers in everything

but personal appearance. Then he told his secret over again, with the

addition of being pathetic on the subject of Miss Wackles, who, he gave

Mr Quilp to understand, was the occasion of any slight incoherency he

might observe in his speech at that moment, which was attributable

solely to the strength of his affection and not to rosy wine or other

fermented liquor. And then they went on arm-in-arm, very lovingly

together.

‘I’m as sharp,’ said Quilp to him, at parting, ‘as sharp as a ferret,

and as cunning as a weazel. You bring Trent to me; assure him that I’m

his friend though I fear he a little distrusts me (I don’t know why, I

have not deserved it); and you’ve both of you made your fortunes--in

perspective.’

‘That’s the worst of it,’ returned Dick. ‘These fortunes in

perspective look such a long way off.’

‘But they look smaller than they really are, on that account,’ said

Quilp, pressing his arm. ‘You’ll have no conception of the value of

your prize until you draw close to it. Mark that.’

‘D’ye think not?’ said Dick.

‘Aye, I do; and I am certain of what I say, that’s better,’ returned

the dwarf. ‘You bring Trent to me. Tell him I am his friend and

yours--why shouldn’t I be?’

‘There’s no reason why you shouldn’t, certainly,’ replied Dick, ‘and

perhaps there are a great many why you should--at least there would be

nothing strange in your wanting to be my friend, if you were a choice

spirit, but then you know you’re not a choice spirit.’

‘I not a choice spirit?’ cried Quilp.

‘Devil a bit, sir,’ returned Dick. ‘A man of your appearance couldn’t

be. If you’re any spirit at all, sir, you’re an evil spirit. Choice

spirits,’ added Dick, smiting himself on the breast, ‘are quite a

different looking sort of people, you may take your oath of that, sir.’

Quilp glanced at his free-spoken friend with a mingled expression of

cunning and dislike, and wringing his hand almost at the same moment,

declared that he was an uncommon character and had his warmest esteem.

With that they parted; Mr Swiveller to make the best of his way home

and sleep himself sober; and Quilp to cogitate upon the discovery he

had made, and exult in the prospect of the rich field of enjoyment and

reprisal it opened to him.

It was not without great reluctance and misgiving that Mr Swiveller,

next morning, his head racked by the fumes of the renowned Schiedam,

repaired to the lodging of his friend Trent (which was in the roof of

an old house in an old ghostly inn), and recounted by very slow degrees

what had yesterday taken place between him and Quilp. Nor was it

without great surprise and much speculation on Quilp’s probable

motives, nor without many bitter comments on Dick Swiveller’s folly,

that his friend received the tale.

‘I don’t defend myself, Fred,’ said the penitent Richard; ‘but the

fellow has such a queer way with him and is such an artful dog, that

first of all he set me upon thinking whether there was any harm in

telling him, and while I was thinking, screwed it out of me. If you

had seen him drink and smoke, as I did, you couldn’t have kept anything

from him. He’s a Salamander you know, that’s what he is.’

Without inquiring whether Salamanders were of necessity good

confidential agents, or whether a fire-proof man was as a matter of

course trustworthy, Frederick Trent threw himself into a chair, and,

burying his head in his hands, endeavoured to fathom the motives which

had led Quilp to insinuate himself into Richard Swiveller’s

confidence;--for that the disclosure was of his seeking, and had not

been spontaneously revealed by Dick, was sufficiently plain from

Quilp’s seeking his company and enticing him away.

The dwarf had twice encountered him when he was endeavouring to obtain

intelligence of the fugitives. This, perhaps, as he had not shown any

previous anxiety about them, was enough to awaken suspicion in the

breast of a creature so jealous and distrustful by nature, setting

aside any additional impulse to curiosity that he might have derived

from Dick’s incautious manner. But knowing the scheme they had

planned, why should he offer to assist it? This was a question more

difficult of solution; but as knaves generally overreach themselves by

imputing their own designs to others, the idea immediately presented

itself that some circumstances of irritation between Quilp and the old

man, arising out of their secret transactions and not unconnected

perhaps with his sudden disappearance, now rendered the former desirous

of revenging himself upon him by seeking to entrap the sole object of

his love and anxiety into a connexion of which he knew he had a dread

and hatred. As Frederick Trent himself, utterly regardless of his

sister, had this object at heart, only second to the hope of gain, it

seemed to him the more likely to be Quilp’s main principle of action.

Once investing the dwarf with a design of his own in abetting them,

which the attainment of their purpose would serve, it was easy to

believe him sincere and hearty in the cause; and as there could be no

doubt of his proving a powerful and useful auxiliary, Trent determined

to accept his invitation and go to his house that night, and if what he

said and did confirmed him in the impression he had formed, to let him

share the labour of their plan, but not the profit.

Having revolved these things in his mind and arrived at this

conclusion, he communicated to Mr Swiveller as much of his meditations

as he thought proper (Dick would have been perfectly satisfied with

less), and giving him the day to recover himself from his late

salamandering, accompanied him at evening to Mr Quilp’s house.

Mighty glad Mr Quilp was to see them, or mightily glad he seemed to be;

and fearfully polite Mr Quilp was to Mrs Quilp and Mrs Jiniwin; and

very sharp was the look he cast on his wife to observe how she was

affected by the recognition of young Trent. Mrs Quilp was as innocent

as her own mother of any emotion, painful or pleasant, which the sight

of him awakened, but as her husband’s glance made her timid and

confused, and uncertain what to do or what was required of her, Mr

Quilp did not fail to assign her embarrassment to the cause he had in

his mind, and while he chuckled at his penetration was secretly

exasperated by his jealousy.

Nothing of this appeared, however. On the contrary, Mr Quilp was all

blandness and suavity, and presided over the case-bottle of rum with

extraordinary open-heartedness.

‘Why, let me see,’ said Quilp. ‘It must be a matter of nearly two

years since we were first acquainted.’

‘Nearer three, I think,’ said Trent.

‘Nearer three!’ cried Quilp. ‘How fast time flies. Does it seem as

long as that to you, Mrs Quilp?’

‘Yes, I think it seems full three years, Quilp,’ was the unfortunate

reply.

‘Oh indeed, ma’am,’ thought Quilp, ‘you have been pining, have you?

Very good, ma’am.’

‘It seems to me but yesterday that you went out to Demerara in the Mary

Anne,’ said Quilp; ‘but yesterday, I declare. Well, I like a little

wildness. I was wild myself once.’

Mr Quilp accompanied this admission with such an awful wink, indicative

of old rovings and backslidings, that Mrs Jiniwin was indignant, and

could not forbear from remarking under her breath that he might at

least put off his confessions until his wife was absent; for which act

of boldness and insubordination Mr Quilp first stared her out of

countenance and then drank her health ceremoniously.

‘I thought you’d come back directly, Fred. I always thought that,’

said Quilp setting down his glass. ‘And when the Mary Anne returned

with you on board, instead of a letter to say what a contrite heart you

had, and how happy you were in the situation that had been provided for

you, I was amused--exceedingly amused. Ha ha ha!’

The young man smiled, but not as though the theme was the most

agreeable one that could have been selected for his entertainment; and

for that reason Quilp pursued it.

‘I always will say,’ he resumed, ‘that when a rich relation having two

young people--sisters or brothers, or brother and sister--dependent on

him, attaches himself exclusively to one, and casts off the other, he

does wrong.’

The young man made a movement of impatience, but Quilp went on as

calmly as if he were discussing some abstract question in which nobody

present had the slightest personal interest.

‘It’s very true,’ said Quilp, ‘that your grandfather urged repeated

forgiveness, ingratitude, riot, and extravagance, and all that; but as

I told him “these are common faults.” “But he’s a scoundrel,” said he.

“Granting that,” said I (for the sake of argument of course), “a great

many young noblemen and gentlemen are scoundrels too!” But he wouldn’t

be convinced.’

‘I wonder at that, Mr Quilp,’ said the young man sarcastically.

‘Well, so did I at the time,’ returned Quilp, ‘but he was always

obstinate. He was in a manner a friend of mine, but he was always

obstinate and wrong-headed. Little Nell is a nice girl, a charming

girl, but you’re her brother, Frederick. You’re her brother after all;

as you told him the last time you met, he can’t alter that.’

‘He would if he could, confound him for that and all other kindnesses,’

said the young man impatiently. ‘But nothing can come of this subject

now, and let us have done with it in the Devil’s name.’

‘Agreed,’ returned Quilp, ‘agreed on my part readily. Why have I

alluded to it? Just to show you, Frederick, that I have always stood

your friend. You little knew who was your friend, and who your foe;

now did you? You thought I was against you, and so there has been a

coolness between us; but it was all on your side, entirely on your

side. Let’s shake hands again, Fred.’

With his head sunk down between his shoulders, and a hideous grin

over-spreading his face, the dwarf stood up and stretched his short arm

across the table. After a moment’s hesitation, the young man stretched

out his to meet it; Quilp clutched his fingers in a grip that for the

moment stopped the current of the blood within them, and pressing his

other hand upon his lip and frowning towards the unsuspicious Richard,

released them and sat down.

This action was not lost upon Trent, who, knowing that Richard

Swiveller was a mere tool in his hands and knew no more of his designs

than he thought proper to communicate, saw that the dwarf perfectly

understood their relative position, and fully entered into the

character of his friend. It is something to be appreciated, even in

knavery. This silent homage to his superior abilities, no less than a

sense of the power with which the dwarf’s quick perception had already

invested him, inclined the young man towards that ugly worthy, and

determined him to profit by his aid.

It being now Mr Quilp’s cue to change the subject with all convenient

expedition, lest Richard Swiveller in his heedlessness should reveal

anything which it was inexpedient for the women to know, he proposed a

game at four-handed cribbage, and partners being cut for, Mrs Quilp

fell to Frederick Trent, and Dick himself to Quilp. Mrs Jiniwin being

very fond of cards was carefully excluded by her son-in-law from any

participation in the game, and had assigned to her the duty of

occasionally replenishing the glasses from the case-bottle; Mr Quilp

from that moment keeping one eye constantly upon her, lest she should

by any means procure a taste of the same, and thereby tantalising the

wretched old lady (who was as much attached to the case-bottle as the

cards) in a double degree and most ingenious manner.

But it was not to Mrs Jiniwin alone that Mr Quilp’s attention was

restricted, as several other matters required his constant vigilance.

Among his various eccentric habits he had a humorous one of always

cheating at cards, which rendered necessary on his part, not only a

close observance of the game, and a sleight-of-hand in counting and

scoring, but also involved the constant correction, by looks, and

frowns, and kicks under the table, of Richard Swiveller, who being

bewildered by the rapidity with which his cards were told, and the rate

at which the pegs travelled down the board, could not be prevented from

sometimes expressing his surprise and incredulity. Mrs Quilp too was

the partner of young Trent, and for every look that passed between

them, and every word they spoke, and every card they played, the dwarf

had eyes and ears; not occupied alone with what was passing above the

table, but with signals that might be exchanging beneath it, which he

laid all kinds of traps to detect; besides often treading on his wife’s

toes to see whether she cried out or remained silent under the

infliction, in which latter case it would have been quite clear that

Trent had been treading on her toes before. Yet, in the most of all

these distractions, the one eye was upon the old lady always, and if

she so much as stealthily advanced a tea-spoon towards a neighbouring

glass (which she often did), for the purpose of abstracting but one sup

of its sweet contents, Quilp’s hand would overset it in the very moment

of her triumph, and Quilp’s mocking voice implore her to regard her

precious health. And in any one of these his many cares, from first to

last, Quilp never flagged nor faltered.

At length, when they had played a great many rubbers and drawn pretty

freely upon the case-bottle, Mr Quilp warned his lady to retire to

rest, and that submissive wife complying, and being followed by her

indignant mother, Mr Swiveller fell asleep. The dwarf beckoning his

remaining companion to the other end of the room, held a short

conference with him in whispers.

‘It’s as well not to say more than one can help before our worthy

friend,’ said Quilp, making a grimace towards the slumbering Dick. ‘Is

it a bargain between us, Fred? Shall he marry little rosy Nell

by-and-by?’

‘You have some end of your own to answer, of course,’ returned the

other.

‘Of course I have, dear Fred,’ said Quilp, grinning to think how little

he suspected what the real end was. ‘It’s retaliation perhaps; perhaps

whim. I have influence, Fred, to help or oppose. Which way shall I

use it? There are a pair of scales, and it goes into one.’

‘Throw it into mine then,’ said Trent.

‘It’s done, Fred,’ rejoined Quilp, stretching out his clenched hand and

opening it as if he had let some weight fall out. ‘It’s in the scale

from this time, and turns it, Fred. Mind that.’

‘Where have they gone?’ asked Trent.

Quilp shook his head, and said that point remained to be discovered,

which it might be, easily. When it was, they would begin their

preliminary advances. He would visit the old man, or even Richard

Swiveller might visit him, and by affecting a deep concern in his

behalf, and imploring him to settle in some worthy home, lead to the

child’s remembering him with gratitude and favour. Once impressed to

this extent, it would be easy, he said, to win her in a year or two,

for she supposed the old man to be poor, as it was a part of his

jealous policy (in common with many other misers) to feign to be so, to

those about him.

‘He has feigned it often enough to me, of late,’ said Trent.

‘Oh! and to me too!’ replied the dwarf. ‘Which is more extraordinary,

as I know how rich he really is.’

‘I suppose you should,’ said Trent.

‘I think I should indeed,’ rejoined the dwarf; and in that, at least,

he spoke the truth.

After a few more whispered words, they returned to the table, and the

young man rousing Richard Swiveller informed him that he was waiting to

depart. This was welcome news to Dick, who started up directly. After

a few words of confidence in the result of their project had been

exchanged, they bade the grinning Quilp good night.

Quilp crept to the window as they passed in the street below, and

listened. Trent was pronouncing an encomium upon his wife, and they

were both wondering by what enchantment she had been brought to marry

such a misshapen wretch as he. The dwarf after watching their

retreating shadows with a wider grin than his face had yet displayed,

stole softly in the dark to bed.

In this hatching of their scheme, neither Trent nor Quilp had had one

thought about the happiness or misery of poor innocent Nell. It would

have been strange if the careless profligate, who was the butt of both,

had been harassed by any such consideration; for his high opinion of

his own merits and deserts rendered the project rather a laudable one

than otherwise; and if he had been visited by so unwonted a guest as

reflection, he would--being a brute only in the gratification of his

appetites--have soothed his conscience with the plea that he did not

mean to beat or kill his wife, and would therefore, after all said and

done, be a very tolerable, average husband.