Chapter 6
THE GOLDEN DUSTMAN FALLS INTO WORSE COMPANY
It had come to pass that Mr Silas Wegg now rarely attended the minion offortune and the worm of the hour, at his (the worm's and minion's) ownhouse, but lay under general instructions to await him within a certainmargin of hours at the Bower. Mr Wegg took this arrangement in greatdudgeon, because the appointed hours were evening hours, and those heconsidered precious to the progress of the friendly move. But it wasquite in character, he bitterly remarked to Mr Venus, that the upstartwho had trampled on those eminent creatures, Miss Elizabeth, MasterGeorge, Aunt Jane, and Uncle Parker, should oppress his literary man.
The Roman Empire having worked out its destruction, Mr Boffin nextappeared in a cab with Rollin's Ancient History, which valuable workbeing found to possess lethargic properties, broke down, at about theperiod when the whole of the army of Alexander the Macedonian (at thattime about forty thousand strong) burst into tears simultaneously, onhis being taken with a shivering fit after bathing. The Wars of theJews, likewise languishing under Mr Wegg's generalship, Mr Boffinarrived in another cab with Plutarch: whose Lives he found in the sequelextremely entertaining, though he hoped Plutarch might not expect him tobelieve them all. What to believe, in the course of his reading, was MrBoffin's chief literary difficulty indeed; for some time he was dividedin his mind between half, all, or none; at length, when he decided, as amoderate man, to compound with half, the question still remained, whichhalf? And that stumbling-block he never got over.
One evening, when Silas Wegg had grown accustomed to the arrival ofhis patron in a cab, accompanied by some profane historian charged withunutterable names of incomprehensible peoples, of impossible descent,waging wars any number of years and syllables long, and carryingillimitable hosts and riches about, with the greatest ease, beyond theconfines of geography--one evening the usual time passed by, and nopatron appeared. After half an hour's grace, Mr Wegg proceeded to theouter gate, and there executed a whistle, conveying to Mr Venus,if perchance within hearing, the tidings of his being at home anddisengaged. Forth from the shelter of a neighbouring wall, Mr Venus thenemerged.
'Brother in arms,' said Mr Wegg, in excellent spirits, 'welcome!'
In return, Mr Venus gave him a rather dry good evening.
'Walk in, brother,' said Silas, clapping him on the shoulder, 'and takeyour seat in my chimley corner; for what says the ballad?
”No malice to dread, sir, And no falsehood to fear, But truth to delight me, Mr Venus, And I forgot what to cheer. Li toddle de om dee. And something to guide, My ain fireside, sir, My ain fireside.”'
With this quotation (depending for its neatness rather on the spiritthan the words), Mr Wegg conducted his guest to his hearth.
'And you come, brother,' said Mr Wegg, in a hospitable glow, 'you comelike I don't know what--exactly like it--I shouldn't know you fromit--shedding a halo all around you.'
'What kind of halo?' asked Mr Venus.
''Ope sir,' replied Silas. 'That's YOUR halo.'
Mr Venus appeared doubtful on the point, and looked ratherdiscontentedly at the fire.
'We'll devote the evening, brother,' exclaimed Wegg, 'to prosecute ourfriendly move. And arterwards, crushing a flowing wine-cup--which Iallude to brewing rum and water--we'll pledge one another. For what saysthe Poet?
”And you needn't Mr Venus be your black bottle, For surely I'll be mine, And we'll take a glass with a slice of lemon in it to which you're partial, For auld lang syne.”'
This flow of quotation and hospitality in Wegg indicated his observationof some little querulousness on the part of Venus.
'Why, as to the friendly move,' observed the last-named gentleman,rubbing his knees peevishly, 'one of my objections to it is, that itDON'T move.'
'Rome, brother,' returned Wegg: 'a city which (it may not be generallyknown) originated in twins and a wolf; and ended in Imperial marble:wasn't built in a day.'
'Did I say it was?' asked Venus.
'No, you did not, brother. Well-inquired.'
'But I do say,' proceeded Venus, 'that I am taken from among my trophiesof anatomy, am called upon to exchange my human warious for merecoal-ashes warious, and nothing comes of it. I think I must give up.'
'No, sir!' remonstrated Wegg, enthusiastically. 'No, Sir!
”Charge, Chester, charge, On, Mr Venus, on!”
Never say die, sir! A man of your mark!'
'It's not so much saying it that I object to,' returned Mr Venus, 'asdoing it. And having got to do it whether or no, I can't afford to wastemy time on groping for nothing in cinders.'
'But think how little time you have given to the move, sir, after all,'urged Wegg. 'Add the evenings so occupied together, and what do theycome to? And you, sir, harmonizer with myself in opinions, views, andfeelings, you with the patience to fit together on wires the wholeframework of society--I allude to the human skelinton--you to give in sosoon!'
'I don't like it,' returned Mr Venus moodily, as he put his head betweenhis knees and stuck up his dusty hair. 'And there's no encouragement togo on.'
'Not them Mounds without,' said Mr Wegg, extending his right hand withan air of solemn reasoning, 'encouragement? Not them Mounds now lookingdown upon us?'
'They're too big,' grumbled Venus. 'What's a scratch here and a scrapethere, a poke in this place and a dig in the other, to them. Besides;what have we found?'
'What HAVE we found?' cried Wegg, delighted to be able to acquiesce.'Ah! There I grant you, comrade. Nothing. But on the contrary, comrade,what MAY we find? There you'll grant me. Anything.'
'I don't like it,' pettishly returned Venus as before. 'I came intoit without enough consideration. And besides again. Isn't your own MrBoffin well acquainted with the Mounds? And wasn't he well acquaintedwith the deceased and his ways? And has he ever showed any expectationof finding anything?'
At that moment wheels were heard.
'Now, I should be loth,' said Mr Wegg, with an air of patient injury,'to think so ill of him as to suppose him capable of coming at this timeof night. And yet it sounds like him.'
A ring at the yard bell.
'It is him,' said Mr Wegg, 'and he is capable of it. I am sorry, becauseI could have wished to keep up a little lingering fragment of respectfor him.'
Here Mr Boffin was heard lustily calling at the yard gate, 'Halloa!Wegg! Halloa!'
'Keep your seat, Mr Venus,' said Wegg. 'He may not stop.' And thencalled out, 'Halloa, sir! Halloa! I'm with you directly, sir! Half aminute, Mr Boffin. Coming, sir, as fast as my leg will bring me!' Andso with a show of much cheerful alacrity stumped out to the gate witha light, and there, through the window of a cab, descried Mr Boffininside, blocked up with books.
'Here! lend a hand, Wegg,' said Mr Boffin excitedly, 'I can't get outtill the way is cleared for me. This is the Annual Register, Wegg, in acab-full of wollumes. Do you know him?'
'Know the Animal Register, sir?' returned the Impostor, who had caughtthe name imperfectly. 'For a trifling wager, I think I could find anyAnimal in him, blindfold, Mr Boffin.'
'And here's Kirby's Wonderful Museum,' said Mr Boffin, 'and Caulfield'sCharacters, and Wilson's. Such Characters, Wegg, such Characters! I musthave one or two of the best of 'em to-night. It's amazing what placesthey used to put the guineas in, wrapped up in rags. Catch hold of thatpile of wollumes, Wegg, or it'll bulge out and burst into the mud. Isthere anyone about, to help?'
'There's a friend of mine, sir, that had the intention of spendingthe evening with me when I gave you up--much against my will--for thenight.'
'Call him out,' cried Mr Boffin in a bustle; 'get him to bear a hand.Don't drop that one under your arm. It's Dancer. Him and his sister madepies of a dead sheep they found when they were out a walking. Where'syour friend? Oh, here's your friend. Would you be so good as help Weggand myself with these books? But don't take Jemmy Taylor of Southwark,nor yet Jemmy Wood of Gloucester. These are the two Jemmys. I'll carrythem myself.'
Not ceasing to talk and bustle, in a state of great excitement, MrBoffin directed the removal and arrangement of the books, appearingto be in some sort beside himself until they were all deposited on thefloor, and the cab was dismissed.
'There!' said Mr Boffin, gloating over them. 'There they are, like thefour-and-twenty fiddlers--all of a row. Get on your spectacles, Wegg;I know where to find the best of 'em, and we'll have a taste at once ofwhat we have got before us. What's your friend's name?'
Mr Wegg presented his friend as Mr Venus.
'Eh?' cried Mr Boffin, catching at the name. 'Of Clerkenwell?'
'Of Clerkenwell, sir,' said Mr Venus.
'Why, I've heard of you,' cried Mr Boffin, 'I heard of you in theold man's time. You knew him. Did you ever buy anything of him?' Withpiercing eagerness.
'No, sir,' returned Venus.
'But he showed you things; didn't he?'
Mr Venus, with a glance at his friend, replied in the affirmative.
'What did he show you?' asked Mr Boffin, putting his hands behind him,and eagerly advancing his head. 'Did he show you boxes, little cabinets,pocket-books, parcels, anything locked or sealed, anything tied up?'
Mr Venus shook his head.
'Are you a judge of china?'
Mr Venus again shook his head.
'Because if he had ever showed you a teapot, I should be glad to know ofit,' said Mr Boffin. And then, with his right hand at his lips, repeatedthoughtfully, 'a Teapot, a Teapot', and glanced over the books on thefloor, as if he knew there was something interesting connected with ateapot, somewhere among them.
Mr Wegg and Mr Venus looked at one another wonderingly: and Mr Wegg, infitting on his spectacles, opened his eyes wide, over their rims, andtapped the side of his nose: as an admonition to Venus to keep himselfgenerally wide awake.
'A Teapot,' repeated Mr Boffin, continuing to muse and survey the books;'a Teapot, a Teapot. Are you ready, Wegg?'
'I am at your service, sir,' replied that gentleman, taking his usualseat on the usual settle, and poking his wooden leg under the tablebefore it. 'Mr Venus, would you make yourself useful, and take a seatbeside me, sir, for the conveniency of snuffing the candles?'
Venus complying with the invitation while it was yet being given, Silaspegged at him with his wooden leg, to call his particular attention toMr Boffin standing musing before the fire, in the space between the twosettles.
'Hem! Ahem!' coughed Mr Wegg to attract his employer's attention. 'Wouldyou wish to commence with an Animal, sir--from the Register?'
'No,' said Mr Boffin, 'no, Wegg.' With that, producing a little bookfrom his breast-pocket, he handed it with great care to the literarygentlemen, and inquired, 'What do you call that, Wegg?'
'This, sir,' replied Silas, adjusting his spectacles, and referring tothe title-page, 'is Merryweather's Lives and Anecdotes of Misers. MrVenus, would you make yourself useful and draw the candles a littlenearer, sir?' This to have a special opportunity of bestowing a stareupon his comrade.
'Which of 'em have you got in that lot?' asked Mr Boffin. 'Can you findout pretty easy?'
'Well, sir,' replied Silas, turning to the table of contents and slowlyfluttering the leaves of the book, 'I should say they must be prettywell all here, sir; here's a large assortment, sir; my eye catches JohnOvers, sir, John Little, sir, Dick Jarrel, John Elwes, the Reverend MrJones of Blewbury, Vulture Hopkins, Daniel Dancer--'
'Give us Dancer, Wegg,' said Mr Boffin.
With another stare at his comrade, Silas sought and found the place.
'Page a hundred and nine, Mr Boffin. Chapter eight. Contents of chapter,”His birth and estate. His garments and outward appearance. Miss Dancerand her feminine graces. The Miser's Mansion. The finding of a treasure.The Story of the Mutton Pies. A Miser's Idea of Death. Bob, the Miser'scur. Griffiths and his Master. How to turn a penny. A substitute for aFire. The Advantages of keeping a Snuff-box. The Miser dies without aShirt. The Treasures of a Dunghill--”'
'Eh? What's that?' demanded Mr Boffin.
'”The Treasures,” sir,' repeated Silas, reading very distinctly, '”of aDunghill.” Mr Venus, sir, would you obleege with the snuffers?' This, tosecure attention to his adding with his lips only, 'Mounds!'
Mr Boffin drew an arm-chair into the space where he stood, and said,seating himself and slyly rubbing his hands:
'Give us Dancer.'
Mr Wegg pursued the biography of that eminent man through its variousphases of avarice and dirt, through Miss Dancer's death on a sickregimen of cold dumpling, and through Mr Dancer's keeping his ragstogether with a hayband, and warming his dinner by sitting upon it, downto the consolatory incident of his dying naked in a sack. After which heread on as follows:
'”The house, or rather the heap of ruins, in which Mr Dancer lived, andwhich at his death devolved to the right of Captain Holmes, was a mostmiserable, decayed building, for it had not been repaired for more thanhalf a century.”'
(Here Mr Wegg eyes his comrade and the room in which they sat: which hadnot been repaired for a long time.)
'”But though poor in external structure, the ruinous fabric was veryrich in the interior. It took many weeks to explore its whole contents;and Captain Holmes found it a very agreeable task to dive into themiser's secret hoards.”'
(Here Mr Wegg repeated 'secret hoards', and pegged his comrade again.)
'”One of Mr Dancer's richest escretoires was found to be a dungheap inthe cowhouse; a sum but little short of two thousand five hundredpounds was contained in this rich piece of manure; and in an old jacket,carefully tied, and strongly nailed down to the manger, in bank notesand gold were found five hundred pounds more.”'
(Here Mr Wegg's wooden leg started forward under the table, and slowlyelevated itself as he read on.)
'”Several bowls were discovered filled with guineas and half-guineas;and at different times on searching the corners of the house they foundvarious parcels of bank notes. Some were crammed into the crevices ofthe wall”';
(Here Mr Venus looked at the wall.)
'”Bundles were hid under the cushions and covers of the chairs”';
(Here Mr Venus looked under himself on the settle.)
'”Some were reposing snugly at the back of the drawers; and notesamounting to six hundred pounds were found neatly doubled up in theinside of an old teapot. In the stable the Captain found jugs full ofold dollars and shillings. The chimney was not left unsearched, and paidvery well for the trouble; for in nineteen different holes, all filledwith soot, were found various sums of money, amounting together to morethan two hundred pounds.”'
On the way to this crisis Mr Wegg's wooden leg had gradually elevateditself more and more, and he had nudged Mr Venus with his oppositeelbow deeper and deeper, until at length the preservation of his balancebecame incompatible with the two actions, and he now dropped oversideways upon that gentleman, squeezing him against the settle's edge.Nor did either of the two, for some few seconds, make any effort torecover himself; both remaining in a kind of pecuniary swoon.
But the sight of Mr Boffin sitting in the arm-chair hugging himself,with his eyes upon the fire, acted as a restorative. Counterfeiting asneeze to cover their movements, Mr Wegg, with a spasmodic 'Tish-ho!'pulled himself and Mr Venus up in a masterly manner.
'Let's have some more,' said Mr Boffin, hungrily.
'John Elwes is the next, sir. Is it your pleasure to take John Elwes?'
'Ah!' said Mr Boffin. 'Let's hear what John did.'
He did not appear to have hidden anything, so went off rather flatly.But an exemplary lady named Wilcocks, who had stowed away gold andsilver in a pickle-pot in a clock-case, a canister-full of treasure ina hole under her stairs, and a quantity of money in an old rat-trap,revived the interest. To her succeeded another lady, claiming to be apauper, whose wealth was found wrapped up in little scraps of paper andold rag. To her, another lady, apple-woman by trade, who had saved afortune of ten thousand pounds and hidden it 'here and there, in cracksand corners, behind bricks and under the flooring.' To her, a Frenchgentleman, who had crammed up his chimney, rather to the detrimentof its drawing powers, 'a leather valise, containing twenty thousandfrancs, gold coins, and a large quantity of precious stones,' asdiscovered by a chimneysweep after his death. By these steps Mr Weggarrived at a concluding instance of the human Magpie:
'Many years ago, there lived at Cambridge a miserly old couple of thename of Jardine: they had two sons: the father was a perfect miser, andat his death one thousand guineas were discovered secreted in his bed.The two sons grew up as parsimonious as their sire. When about twentyyears of age, they commenced business at Cambridge as drapers, andthey continued there until their death. The establishment of the MessrsJardine was the most dirty of all the shops in Cambridge. Customersseldom went in to purchase, except perhaps out of curiosity. Thebrothers were most disreputable-looking beings; for, although surroundedwith gay apparel as their staple in trade, they wore the most filthyrags themselves. It is said that they had no bed, and, to save theexpense of one, always slept on a bundle of packing-cloths under thecounter. In their housekeeping they were penurious in the extreme. Ajoint of meat did not grace their board for twenty years. Yet when thefirst of the brothers died, the other, much to his surprise, found largesums of money which had been secreted even from him.'
'There!' cried Mr Boffin. 'Even from him, you see! There was only two of'em, and yet one of 'em hid from the other.'
Mr Venus, who since his introduction to the French gentleman, had beenstooping to peer up the chimney, had his attention recalled by the lastsentence, and took the liberty of repeating it.
'Do you like it?' asked Mr Boffin, turning suddenly.
'I beg your pardon, sir?'
'Do you like what Wegg's been a-reading?'
Mr Venus answered that he found it extremely interesting.
'Then come again,' said Mr Boffin, 'and hear some more. Come when youlike; come the day after to-morrow, half an hour sooner. There's plentymore; there's no end to it.'
Mr Venus expressed his acknowledgments and accepted the invitation.
'It's wonderful what's been hid, at one time and another,' said MrBoffin, ruminating; 'truly wonderful.'
'Meaning sir,' observed Wegg, with a propitiatory face to draw him out,and with another peg at his friend and brother, 'in the way of money?'
'Money,' said Mr Boffin. 'Ah! And papers.'
Mr Wegg, in a languid transport, again dropped over on Mr Venus, andagain recovering himself, masked his emotions with a sneeze.
'Tish-ho! Did you say papers too, sir? Been hidden, sir?'
'Hidden and forgot,' said Mr Boffin. 'Why the bookseller that sold methe Wonderful Museum--where's the Wonderful Museum?' He was on his kneeson the floor in a moment, groping eagerly among the books.
'Can I assist you, sir?' asked Wegg.
'No, I have got it; here it is,' said Mr Boffin, dusting it with thesleeve of his coat. 'Wollume four. I know it was the fourth wollume,that the bookseller read it to me out of. Look for it, Wegg.'
Silas took the book and turned the leaves.
'Remarkable petrefaction, sir?'
'No, that's not it,' said Mr Boffin. 'It can't have been apetrefaction.'
'Memoirs of General John Reid, commonly called The Walking Rushlight,sir? With portrait?'
'No, nor yet him,' said Mr Boffin.
'Remarkable case of a person who swallowed a crown-piece, sir?'
'To hide it?' asked Mr Boffin.
'Why, no, sir,' replied Wegg, consulting the text, 'it appears to havebeen done by accident. Oh! This next must be it. ”Singular discovery ofa will, lost twenty-one years.”'
'That's it!' cried Mr Boffin. 'Read that.'
'”A most extraordinary case,”' read Silas Wegg aloud, '”was tried atthe last Maryborough assizes in Ireland. It was briefly this. RobertBaldwin, in March 1782, made his will, in which he devised the lands nowin question, to the children of his youngest son; soon after which hisfaculties failed him, and he became altogether childish and died, aboveeighty years old. The defendant, the eldest son, immediately afterwardsgave out that his father had destroyed the will; and no will beingfound, he entered into possession of the lands in question, and somatters remained for twenty-one years, the whole family during allthat time believing that the father had died without a will. But aftertwenty-one years the defendant's wife died, and he very soon afterwards,at the age of seventy-eight, married a very young woman: which causedsome anxiety to his two sons, whose poignant expressions of this feelingso exasperated their father, that he in his resentment executed a willto disinherit his eldest son, and in his fit of anger showed it to hissecond son, who instantly determined to get at it, and destroy it, inorder to preserve the property to his brother. With this view, he brokeopen his father's desk, where he found--not his father's will which hesought after, but the will of his grandfather, which was then altogetherforgotten in the family.”'
'There!' said Mr Boffin. 'See what men put away and forget, or mean todestroy, and don't!' He then added in a slow tone, 'As--ton--ish--ing!'And as he rolled his eyes all round the room, Wegg and Venus likewiserolled their eyes all round the room. And then Wegg, singly, fixed hiseyes on Mr Boffin looking at the fire again; as if he had a mind tospring upon him and demand his thoughts or his life.
'However, time's up for to-night,' said Mr Boffin, waving his hand aftera silence. 'More, the day after to-morrow. Range the books upon theshelves, Wegg. I dare say Mr Venus will be so kind as help you.'
While speaking, he thrust his hand into the breast of his outer coat,and struggled with some object there that was too large to be got outeasily. What was the stupefaction of the friendly movers when thisobject at last emerging, proved to be a much-dilapidated dark lantern!
Without at all noticing the effect produced by this little instrument,Mr Boffin stood it on his knee, and, producing a box of matches,deliberately lighted the candle in the lantern, blew out the kindledmatch, and cast the end into the fire. 'I'm going, Wegg,' he thenannounced, 'to take a turn about the place and round the yard. I don'twant you. Me and this same lantern have taken hundreds--thousands--ofsuch turns in our time together.'
'But I couldn't think, sir--not on any account, I couldn't,'--Wegg waspolitely beginning, when Mr Boffin, who had risen and was going towardsthe door, stopped:
'I have told you that I don't want you, Wegg.'
Wegg looked intelligently thoughtful, as if that had not occurred to hismind until he now brought it to bear on the circumstance. He had nothingfor it but to let Mr Boffin go out and shut the door behind him. But,the instant he was on the other side of it, Wegg clutched Venuswith both hands, and said in a choking whisper, as if he were beingstrangled:
'Mr Venus, he must be followed, he must be watched, he mustn't be lostsight of for a moment.'
'Why mustn't he?' asked Venus, also strangling.
'Comrade, you might have noticed I was a little elewated in spirits whenyou come in to-night. I've found something.'
'What have you found?' asked Venus, clutching him with both hands, sothat they stood interlocked like a couple of preposterous gladiators.
'There's no time to tell you now. I think he must have gone to look forit. We must have an eye upon him instantly.'
Releasing each other, they crept to the door, opened it softly, andpeeped out. It was a cloudy night, and the black shadow of the Moundsmade the dark yard darker. 'If not a double swindler,' whispered Wegg,'why a dark lantern? We could have seen what he was about, if he hadcarried a light one. Softly, this way.'
Cautiously along the path that was bordered by fragments of crockery setin ashes, the two stole after him. They could hear him at his peculiartrot, crushing the loose cinders as he went. 'He knows the place byheart,' muttered Silas, 'and don't need to turn his lantern on, confoundhim!' But he did turn it on, almost in that same instant, and flashedits light upon the first of the Mounds.
'Is that the spot?' asked Venus in a whisper.
'He's warm,' said Silas in the same tone. 'He's precious warm. He'sclose. I think he must be going to look for it. What's that he's got inhis hand?'
'A shovel,' answered Venus. 'And he knows how to use it, remember, fiftytimes as well as either of us.'
'If he looks for it and misses it, partner,' suggested Wegg, 'what shallwe do?'
'First of all, wait till he does,' said Venus.
Discreet advice too, for he darkened his lantern again, and the moundturned black. After a few seconds, he turned the light on once more, andwas seen standing at the foot of the second mound, slowly raising thelantern little by little until he held it up at arm's length, as if hewere examining the condition of the whole surface.
'That can't be the spot too?' said Venus.
'No,' said Wegg, 'he's getting cold.'
'It strikes me,' whispered Venus, 'that he wants to find out whether anyone has been groping about there.'
'Hush!' returned Wegg, 'he's getting colder and colder.--Now he'sfreezing!'
This exclamation was elicited by his having turned the lantern offagain, and on again, and being visible at the foot of the third mound.
'Why, he's going up it!' said Venus.
'Shovel and all!' said Wegg.
At a nimbler trot, as if the shovel over his shoulder stimulated him byreviving old associations, Mr Boffin ascended the 'serpentining walk',up the Mound which he had described to Silas Wegg on the occasion oftheir beginning to decline and fall. On striking into it he turned hislantern off. The two followed him, stooping low, so that their figuresmight make no mark in relief against the sky when he should turn hislantern on again. Mr Venus took the lead, towing Mr Wegg, in order thathis refractory leg might be promptly extricated from any pitfalls itshould dig for itself. They could just make out that the Golden Dustmanstopped to breathe. Of course they stopped too, instantly.
'This is his own Mound,' whispered Wegg, as he recovered his wind, 'thisone.
'Why all three are his own,' returned Venus.
'So he thinks; but he's used to call this his own, because it's the onefirst left to him; the one that was his legacy when it was all he tookunder the will.'
'When he shows his light,' said Venus, keeping watch upon his duskyfigure all the time, 'drop lower and keep closer.'
He went on again, and they followed again. Gaining the top of the Mound,he turned on his light--but only partially--and stood it on the ground.A bare lopsided weatherbeaten pole was planted in the ashes there,and had been there many a year. Hard by this pole, his lantern stood:lighting a few feet of the lower part of it and a little of the ashysurface around, and then casting off a purposeless little clear trail oflight into the air.
'He can never be going to dig up the pole!' whispered Venus as theydropped low and kept close.
'Perhaps it's holler and full of something,' whispered Wegg.
He was going to dig, with whatsoever object, for he tucked up his cuffsand spat on his hands, and then went at it like an old digger as hewas. He had no design upon the pole, except that he measured a shovel'slength from it before beginning, nor was it his purpose to dig deep.Some dozen or so of expert strokes sufficed. Then, he stopped, lookeddown into the cavity, bent over it, and took out what appeared to be anordinary case-bottle: one of those squat, high-shouldered, short-neckedglass bottles which the Dutchman is said to keep his Courage in. As soonas he had done this, he turned off his lantern, and they could hear thathe was filling up the hole in the dark. The ashes being easily moved bya skilful hand, the spies took this as a hint to make off in good time.Accordingly, Mr Venus slipped past Mr Wegg and towed him down. But MrWegg's descent was not accomplished without some personal inconvenience,for his self-willed leg sticking into the ashes about half way down, andtime pressing, Mr Venus took the liberty of hauling him from his tetherby the collar: which occasioned him to make the rest of the journey onhis back, with his head enveloped in the skirts of his coat, and hiswooden leg coming last, like a drag. So flustered was Mr Wegg by thismode of travelling, that when he was set on the level ground with hisintellectual developments uppermost, he was quite unconscious of hisbearings, and had not the least idea where his place of residence wasto be found, until Mr Venus shoved him into it. Even then he staggeredround and round, weakly staring about him, until Mr Venus with a hardbrush brushed his senses into him and the dust out of him.
Mr Boffin came down leisurely, for this brushing process had been wellaccomplished, and Mr Venus had had time to take his breath, before hereappeared. That he had the bottle somewhere about him could not bedoubted; where, was not so clear. He wore a large rough coat, buttonedover, and it might be in any one of half a dozen pockets.
'What's the matter, Wegg?' said Mr Boffin. 'You are as pale as acandle.'
Mr Wegg replied, with literal exactness, that he felt as if he had had aturn.
'Bile,' said Mr Boffin, blowing out the light in the lantern, shuttingit up, and stowing it away in the breast of his coat as before. 'Are yousubject to bile, Wegg?'
Mr Wegg again replied, with strict adherence to truth, that he didn'tthink he had ever had a similar sensation in his head, to anything likethe same extent.
'Physic yourself to-morrow, Wegg,' said Mr Boffin, 'to be in orderfor next night. By-the-by, this neighbourhood is going to have a loss,Wegg.'
'A loss, sir?'
'Going to lose the Mounds.'
The friendly movers made such an obvious effort not to look at oneanother, that they might as well have stared at one another with alltheir might.
'Have you parted with them, Mr Boffin?' asked Silas.
'Yes; they're going. Mine's as good as gone already.'
'You mean the little one of the three, with the pole atop, sir.'
'Yes,' said Mr Boffin, rubbing his ear in his old way, with that newtouch of craftiness added to it. 'It has fetched a penny. It'll begin tobe carted off to-morrow.'
'Have you been out to take leave of your old friend, sir?' asked Silas,jocosely.
'No,' said Mr Boffin. 'What the devil put that in your head?'
He was so sudden and rough, that Wegg, who had been hovering closerand closer to his skirts, despatching the back of his hand on exploringexpeditions in search of the bottle's surface, retired two or threepaces.
'No offence, sir,' said Wegg, humbly. 'No offence.'
Mr Boffin eyed him as a dog might eye another dog who wanted his bone;and actually retorted with a low growl, as the dog might have retorted.
'Good-night,' he said, after having sunk into a moody silence, withhis hands clasped behind him, and his eyes suspiciously wandering aboutWegg.--'No! stop there. I know the way out, and I want no light.'
Avarice, and the evening's legends of avarice, and the inflammatoryeffect of what he had seen, and perhaps the rush of his ill-conditionedblood to his brain in his descent, wrought Silas Wegg to such a pitch ofinsatiable appetite, that when the door closed he made a swoop at it anddrew Venus along with him.
'He mustn't go,' he cried. 'We mustn't let him go? He has got thatbottle about him. We must have that bottle.'
'Why, you wouldn't take it by force?' said Venus, restraining him.
'Wouldn't I? Yes I would. I'd take it by any force, I'd have it at anyprice! Are you so afraid of one old man as to let him go, you coward?'
'I am so afraid of you, as not to let YOU go,' muttered Venus, sturdily,clasping him in his arms.
'Did you hear him?' retorted Wegg. 'Did you hear him say that he wasresolved to disappoint us? Did you hear him say, you cur, that he wasgoing to have the Mounds cleared off, when no doubt the whole place willbe rummaged? If you haven't the spirit of a mouse to defend your rights,I have. Let me go after him.'
As in his wildness he was making a strong struggle for it, Mr Venusdeemed it expedient to lift him, throw him, and fall with him; wellknowing that, once down, he would not be up again easily with his woodenleg. So they both rolled on the floor, and, as they did so, Mr Boffinshut the gate.