Great Expectations. Чарльз Диккенс

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ me put ’em in my ’at, and therefore you know as they are here.” With which he took them out, and gave them, not to Miss Havisham, but to me. I am afraid I was ashamed of the dear good fellow – I know I was ashamed of him – when I saw that Estella stood at the back of Miss Havisham’s chair, and that her eyes laughed mischievously. I took the indentures out of his hand and gave them to Miss Havisham.

      “You expected,” said Miss Havisham, as she looked them over, “no premium with the boy?”

      “Joe!” I remonstrated; for he made no reply at all. “Why don’t you answer—”

      “Pip,” returned Joe, cutting me short, as if he were hurt, “which I meantersay that were not a question requiring a answer betwixt yourself and me, and which you know the answer to be full well No. You know it to be No, Pip, and wherefore should I say it?”

      Miss Havisham glanced at him as if she understood what he really was, better than I had thought possible, seeing what he was there; and took up a little bag from the table beside her.

      “Pip has earned a premium here,” she said, “and here it is. There are five-and-twenty guineas in this bag. Give it to your master, Pip?”

      As if he were absolutely out of his mind with the wonder awakened in him by her strange figure and the strange room, Joe, even at this pass, persisted in addressing me.

      “This is wery liberal on your part, Pip,” said Joe, “and it is as such received and grateful welcome, though never looked for, far nor near nor nowheres. And now, old chap,” said Joe, conveying to me a sensation, first of burning and then of freezing, for I felt as if that familiar expression were applied to Miss Havisham; “and now, old chap, may we do our duty! May you and me do our duty, both on us by one and another, and by them which your liberal present – have – conweyed – to be – for the satisfaction of mind – of – them as never –” here Joe showed that he felt he had fallen into frightful difficulties, until he triumphantly rescued himself with the words, “and from myself far be it!” These words had such a round and convincing sound for him that he said them twice.

      “Good-by, Pip!” said Miss Havisham. “Let them out, Estella.”

      “Am I to come again, Miss Havisham?” I asked.

      “No. Gargery is your master now. Gargery! One word!”

      Thus calling him back as I went out of the door, I heard her say to Joe in a distinct emphatic voice, “The boy has been a good boy here, and that is his reward. Of course, as an honest man, you will expect no other and no more.”

      How Joe got out of the room, I have never been able to determine; but, I know that when he did get out he was steadily proceeding up-stairs instead of coming down, and was deaf to all remonstrances until I went after him and laid hold of him. In another minute we were outside the gate, and it was locked, and Estella was gone.

      When we stood in the daylight alone again, Joe backed up against a wall, and said to me, “Astonishing!” And there he remained so long, saying “Astonishing!” at intervals, so often, that I began to think his senses were never coming back. At length he prolonged his remark into “Pip, I do assure you this is as-ton-ishing!” and so, by degrees, became conversational and able to walk away.

      I have reason to think that Joe’s intellects were brightened by the encounter they had passed through, and that on our way to Pumblechook’s he invented a subtle and deep design. My reason is to be found in what took place in Mr. Pumblechook’s parlour: where, on our presenting ourselves, my sister sat in conference with that detested seedsman.

      “Well?” cried my sister, addressing us both at once. “And what’s happened to you? I wonder you condescend to come back to such poor society as this, I am sure I do!”

      “Miss Havisham,” said Joe, with a fixed look at me, like an effort of remembrance, “made it wery partick’ler that we should give her – were it compliments or respects, Pip?”

      “Compliments,” I said.

      “Which that were my own belief,” assented Joe – “her compliments to Mrs. J. Gargery—”

      “Much good they’ll do me!” observed my sister; but rather gratified too.

      “And wishing,” pursued Joe, with another fixed look at me, like another effort of remembrance, “that the state of Miss Havisham’s elth were sitch as would have – allowed, were it, Pip?”

      “Of her having the pleasure,” I added.

      “Of ladies’ company,” said Joe. And drew a long breath.

      “Well!” cried my sister, with a mollified glance at Mr. Pumblechook. “She might have had the politeness to send that message at first, but it’s better late than never. And what did she give young Rantipole here?”

      “She giv’ him,” said Joe, “nothing.”

      Mrs. Joe was going to break out, but Joe went on.

      “What she giv’,” said Joe, “she giv’ to his friends. ‘And by his friends,’ were her explanation, ‘I mean into the hands of his sister Mrs. J. Gargery.’ Them were her words; ‘Mrs. J. Gargery.’ She mayn’t have know’d,” added Joe, with an appearance of reflection, “whether it were Joe, or Jorge.”

      My sister looked at Pumblechook: who smoothed the elbows of his wooden arm-chair, and nodded at her and at the fire, as if he had known all about it beforehand.

      “And how much have you got?” asked my sister, laughing. Positively, laughing!

      “What would present company say to ten pound?” demanded Joe.

      “They’d say,” returned my sister, curtly, “pretty well. Not too much, but pretty well.”

      “It’s more than that, then,” said Joe.

      That fearful Impostor, Pumblechook, immediately nodded, and said, as he rubbed the arms of his chair: “It’s more than that, Mum.”

      “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 patronising 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 СКАЧАТЬ