Great Expectations

"Why, you don't mean to say--" began my sister.

"Yes I do, Mum," said Pumblechook; "but wait a bit. Go on, Joseph. Good

in you! Go on!"

"What would present company say," proceeded Joe, "to twenty pound?"

"Handsome would be the word," returned my sister.

"Well, then," said Joe, "It's more than twenty pound."

That abject hypocrite, Pumblechook, nodded again, and said, with a

patronizing laugh, "It's more than that, Mum. Good again! Follow her up,

Joseph!"

"Then to make an end of it," said Joe, delightedly handing the bag to my

sister; "it's five-and-twenty pound."

"It's five-and-twenty pound, Mum," echoed that basest of swindlers,

Pumblechook, rising to shake hands with her; "and it's no more than your

merits (as I said when my opinion was asked), and I wish you joy of the

money!"

If the villain had stopped here, his case would have been sufficiently

awful, but he blackened his guilt by proceeding to take me into custody,

with a right of patronage that left all his former criminality far

behind.

"Now you see, Joseph and wife," said Pumblechook, as he took me by the

arm above the elbow, "I am one of them that always go right through with

what they've begun. This boy must be bound, out of hand. That's my way.

Bound out of hand."

"Goodness knows, Uncle Pumblechook," said my sister (grasping the

money), "we're deeply beholden to you."

"Never mind me, Mum," returned that diabolical cornchandler. "A

pleasure's a pleasure all the world over. But this boy, you know; we

must have him bound. I said I'd see to it--to tell you the truth."

The Justices were sitting in the Town Hall near at hand, and we at

once went over to have me bound apprentice to Joe in the Magisterial

presence. I say we went over, but I was pushed over by Pumblechook,

exactly as if I had that moment picked a pocket or fired a rick; indeed,

it was the general impression in Court that I had been taken red-handed;

for, as Pumblechook shoved me before him through the crowd, I heard some

people say, "What's he done?" and others, "He's a young 'un, too, but

looks bad, don't he?" One person of mild and benevolent aspect even gave

me a tract ornamented with a woodcut of a malevolent young man fitted

up with a perfect sausage-shop of fetters, and entitled TO BE READ IN MY

CELL.