On the stairs I encountered Wemmick, who was coming down, after an

unsuccessful application of his knuckles to my door. I had not seen him

alone since the disastrous issue of the attempted flight; and he had

come, in his private and personal capacity, to say a few words of

explanation in reference to that failure.

"The late Compeyson," said Wemmick, "had by little and little got at the

bottom of half of the regular business now transacted; and it was from

the talk of some of his people in trouble (some of his people being

always in trouble) that I heard what I did. I kept my ears open, seeming

to have them shut, until I heard that he was absent, and I thought that

would be the best time for making the attempt. I can only suppose now,

that it was a part of his policy, as a very clever man, habitually to

deceive his own instruments. You don't blame me, I hope, Mr. Pip? I am

sure I tried to serve you, with all my heart."

"I am as sure of that, Wemmick, as you can be, and I thank you most

earnestly for all your interest and friendship."

"Thank you, thank you very much. It's a bad job," said Wemmick,

scratching his head, "and I assure you I haven't been so cut up for a

long time. What I look at is the sacrifice of so much portable property.

Dear me!"

"What I think of, Wemmick, is the poor owner of the property."

"Yes, to be sure," said Wemmick. "Of course, there can be no objection

to your being sorry for him, and I'd put down a five-pound note myself

to get him out of it. But what I look at is this. The late Compeyson

having been beforehand with him in intelligence of his return, and being

so determined to bring him to book, I do not think he could have been

saved. Whereas, the portable property certainly could have been saved.

That's the difference between the property and the owner, don't you

see?"

I invited Wemmick to come up stairs, and refresh himself with a glass

of grog before walking to Walworth. He accepted the invitation. While he

was drinking his moderate allowance, he said, with nothing to lead up to

it, and after having appeared rather fidgety,-"What do you think of my meaning to take a holiday on Monday, Mr. Pip?"

"Why, I suppose you have not done such a thing these twelve months."




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024