Chapter 44

by Charles Dickens

　　Mr Ralph Nickleby cuts an old Acquaintance. It would also appearfrom the Contents hereof, that a Joke, even between Husband andWife, may be sometimes carried too farThere are some men who, living with the one object of enrichingthemselves, no matter by what means, and being perfectly consciousof the baseness and rascality of the means which they will use everyday towards this end, affect nevertheless--even to themselves--ahigh tone of moral rectitude, and shake their heads and sigh overthe depravity of the world. Some of the craftiest scoundrels thatever walked this earth, or rather--for walking implies, at least,an erect position and the bearing of a man--that ever crawled andcrept through life by its dirtiest and narrowest ways, will gravelyjot down in diaries the events of every day, and keep a regulardebtor and creditor account with Heaven, which shall always show afloating balance in their own favour. Whether this is a gratuitous(the only gratuitous) part of the falsehood and trickery of suchmen's lives, or whether they really hope to cheat Heaven itself, andlay up treasure in the next world by the same process which hasenabled them to lay up treasure in this--not to question how it is,so it is. And, doubtless, such book-keeping (like certainautobiographies which have enlightened the world) cannot fail toprove serviceable, in the one respect of sparing the recording Angelsome time and labour.Ralph Nickleby was not a man of this stamp. Stern, unyielding,dogged, and impenetrable, Ralph cared for nothing in life, or beyondit, save the gratification of two passions, avarice, the first andpredominant appetite of his nature, and hatred, the second.Affecting to consider himself but a type of all humanity, he was atlittle pains to conceal his true character from the world ingeneral, and in his own heart he exulted over and cherished everybad design as it had birth. The only scriptural admonition thatRalph Nickleby heeded, in the letter, was 'know thyself.' He knewhimself well, and choosing to imagine that all mankind were cast inthe same mould, hated them; for, though no man hates himself, thecoldest among us having too much self-love for that, yet most menunconsciously judge the world from themselves, and it will be verygenerally found that those who sneer habitually at human nature, andaffect to despise it, are among its worst and least pleasantsamples.But the present business of these adventures is with Ralph himself,who stood regarding Newman Noggs with a heavy frown, while thatworthy took off his fingerless gloves, and spreading them carefullyon the palm of his left hand, and flattening them with his right totake the creases out, proceeded to roll them up with an absent airas if he were utterly regardless of all things else, in the deepinterest of the ceremonial.'Gone out of town!' said Ralph, slowly. 'A mistake of yours. Goback again.''No mistake,' returned Newman. 'Not even going; gone.''Has he turned girl or baby?' muttered Ralph, with a fretfulgesture.'I don't know,' said Newman, 'but he's gone.'The repetition of the word 'gone' seemed to afford Newman Noggsinexpressible delight, in proportion as it annoyed Ralph Nickleby.He uttered the word with a full round emphasis, dwelling upon it aslong as he decently could, and when he could hold out no longerwithout attracting observation, stood gasping it to himself as ifeven that were a satisfaction.'And where has he gone?' said Ralph.'France,' replied Newman. 'Danger of another attack of erysipelas--a worse attack--in the head. So the doctors ordered him off. Andhe's gone.''And Lord Frederick--?' began Ralph.'He's gone too,' replied Newman.'And he carries his drubbing with him, does he?' said Ralph, turningaway; 'pockets his bruises, and sneaks off without the retaliationof a word, or seeking the smallest reparation!''He's too ill,' said Newman.'Too ill!' repeated Ralph. 'Why I would have it if I were dying; inthat case I should only be the more determined to have it, and thatwithout delay--I mean if I were he. But he's too ill! Poor SirMulberry! Too ill!'Uttering these words with supreme contempt and great irritation ofmanner, Ralph signed hastily to Newman to leave the room; andthrowing himself into his chair, beat his foot impatiently upon theground.'There is some spell about that boy,' said Ralph, grinding histeeth. 'Circumstances conspire to help him. Talk of fortune'sfavours! What is even money to such Devil's luck as this?'He thrust his hands impatiently into his pockets, but notwithstandinghis previous reflection there was some consolation there, for hisface relaxed a little; and although there was still a deep frownupon the contracted brow, it was one of calculation, and not ofdisappointment.'This Hawk will come back, however,' muttered Ralph; 'and if I knowthe man (and I should by this time) his wrath will have lostnothing of its violence in the meanwhile. Obliged to live inretirement--the monotony of a sick-room to a man of his habits--nolife--no drink--no play--nothing that he likes and lives by. Heis not likely to forget his obligations to the cause of all this.Few men would; but he of all others? No, no!'He smiled and shook his head, and resting his chin upon his hand,fell a musing, and smiled again. After a time he rose and rang thebell.'That Mr Squeers; has he been here?' said Ralph.'He was here last night. I left him here when I went home,'returned Newman.'I know that, fool, do I not?' said Ralph, irascibly. 'Has he beenhere since? Was he here this morning?''No,' bawled Newman, in a very loud key.'If he comes while I am out--he is pretty sure to be here by ninetonight--let him wait. And if there's another man with him, asthere will be--perhaps,' said Ralph, checking himself, 'let himwait too.''Let 'em both wait?' said Newman.'Ay,' replied Ralph, turning upon him with an angry look. 'Help meon with this spencer, and don't repeat after me, like a croakingparrot.''I wish I was a parrot,' Newman, sulkily.'I wish you were,' rejoined Ralph, drawing his spencer on; 'I'd havewrung your neck long ago.'Newman returned no answer to this compliment, but looked overRalph's shoulder for an instant, (he was adjusting the collar of thespencer behind, just then,) as if he were strongly disposed to tweakhim by the nose. Meeting Ralph's eye, however, he suddenly recalledhis wandering fingers, and rubbed his own red nose with a vehemencequite astonishing.Bestowing no further notice upon his eccentric follower than athreatening look, and an admonition to be careful and make nomistake, Ralph took his hat and gloves, and walked out.He appeared to have a very extraordinary and miscellaneousconnection, and very odd calls he made, some at great rich houses,and some at small poor ones, but all upon one subject: money. Hisface was a talisman to the porters and servants of his more dashingclients, and procured him ready admission, though he trudged onfoot, and others, who were denied, rattled to the door in carriages.Here he was all softness and cringing civility; his step so light,that it scarcely produced a sound upon the thick carpets; his voiceso soft that it was not audible beyond the person to whom it wasaddressed. But in the poorer habitations Ralph was another man; hisboots creaked upon the passage floor as he walked boldly in; hisvoice was harsh and loud as he demanded the money that was overdue;his threats were coarse and angry. With another class of customers,Ralph was again another man. These were attorneys of more thandoubtful reputation, who helped him to new business, or raised freshprofits upon old. With them Ralph was familiar and jocose,humorous upon the topics of the day, and especially pleasant uponbankruptcies and pecuniary difficulties that made good for trade.In short, it would have been difficult to have recognised the sameman under these various aspects, but for the bulky leather case fullof bills and notes which he drew from his pocket at every house, andthe constant repetition of the same complaint, (varied only in toneand style of delivery,) that the world thought him rich, and thatperhaps he might be if he had his own; but there was no gettingmoney in when it was once out, either principal or interest, and itwas a hard matter to live; even to live from day to day.It was evening before a long round of such visits (interrupted onlyby a scanty dinner at an eating-house) terminated at Pimlico, andRalph walked along St James's Park, on his way home.There were some deep schemes in his head, as the puckered brow andfirmly-set mouth would have abundantly testified, even if they hadbeen unaccompanied by a complete indifference to, or unconsciousnessof, the objects about him. So complete was his abstraction,however, that Ralph, usually as quick-sighted as any man, did notobserve that he was followed by a shambling figure, which at onetime stole behind him with noiseless footsteps, at another crept afew paces before him, and at another glided along by his side; atall times regarding him with an eye so keen, and a look so eager andattentive, that it was more like the expression of an intrusive facein some powerful picture or strongly marked dream, than the scrutinyeven of a most interested and anxious observer.The sky had been lowering and dark for some time, and thecommencement of a violent storm of rain drove Ralph for shelter to atree. He was leaning against it with folded arms, still buried inthought, when, happening to raise his eyes, he suddenly met those ofa man who, creeping round the trunk, peered into his face with asearching look. There was something in the usurer's expression atthe moment, which the man appeared to remember well, for it decidedhim; and stepping close up to Ralph, he pronounced his name.Astonished for the moment, Ralph fell back a couple of paces andsurveyed him from head to foot. A spare, dark, withered man, ofabout his own age, with a stooping body, and a very sinister facerendered more ill-favoured by hollow and hungry cheeks, deeplysunburnt, and thick black eyebrows, blacker in contrast with theperfect whiteness of his hair; roughly clothed in shabby garments,of a strange and uncouth make; and having about him an indefinablemanner of depression and degradation--this, for a moment, was allhe saw. But he looked again, and the face and person seemedgradually to grow less strange; to change as he looked, to subsideand soften into lineaments that were familiar, until at last theyresolved themselves, as if by some strange optical illusion, intothose of one whom he had known for many years, and forgotten andlost sight of for nearly as many more.The man saw that the recognition was mutual, and beckoning to Ralphto take his former place under the tree, and not to stand in thefalling rain, of which, in his first surprise, he had been quiteregardless, addressed him in a hoarse, faint tone.'You would hardly have known me from my voice, I suppose, MrNickleby?' he said.'No,' returned Ralph, bending a severe look upon him. 'Though thereis something in that, that I remember now.''There is little in me that you can call to mind as having beenthere eight years ago, I dare say?' observed the other.'Quite enough,' said Ralph, carelessly, and averting his face.'More than enough.''If I had remained in doubt about you, Mr Nickleby,' said the other,'this reception, and your manner, would have decided me very soon.''Did you expect any other?' asked Ralph, sharply.'No!' said the man.'You were right,' retorted Ralph; 'and as you feel no surprise, needexpress none.''Mr Nickleby,' said the man, bluntly, after a brief pause, duringwhich he had seemed to struggle with an inclination to answer him bysome reproach, 'will you hear a few words that I have to say?''I am obliged to wait here till the rain holds a little,' saidRalph, looking abroad. 'If you talk, sir, I shall not put myfingers in my ears, though your talking may have as much effect asif I did.''I was once in your confidence--' thus his companion began. Ralphlooked round, and smiled involuntarily.'Well,' said the other, 'as much in your confidence as you everchose to let anybody be.''Ah!' rejoined Ralph, folding his arms; 'that's another thing,quite another thing.''Don't let us play upon words, Mr Nickleby, in the name ofhumanity.''Of what?' said Ralph.'Of humanity,' replied the other, sternly. 'I am hungry and inwant. If the change that you must see in me after so long anabsence--must see, for I, upon whom it has come by slow and harddegrees, see it and know it well--will not move you to pity, letthe knowledge that bread; not the daily bread of the Lord's Prayer,which, as it is offered up in cities like this, is understood toinclude half the luxuries of the world for the rich, and just asmuch coarse food as will support life for the poor--not that, butbread, a crust of dry hard bread, is beyond my reach today--letthat have some weight with you, if nothing else has.''If this is the usual form in which you beg, sir,' said Ralph, 'youhave studied your part well; but if you will take advice from onewho knows something of the world and its ways, I should recommend alower tone; a little lower tone, or you stand a fair chance ofbeing starved in good earnest.'As he said this, Ralph clenched his left wrist tightly with hisright hand, and inclining his head a little on one side and droppinghis chin upon his breast, looked at him whom he addressed with afrowning, sullen face. The very picture of a man whom nothing couldmove or soften.'Yesterday was my first day in London,' said the old man, glancingat his travel-stained dress and worn shoes.'It would have been better for you, I think, if it had been yourlast also,' replied Ralph.'I have been seeking you these two days, where I thought you weremost likely to be found,' resumed the other more humbly, 'and I metyou here at last, when I had almost given up the hope ofencountering you, Mr Nickleby.'He seemed to wait for some reply, but Ralph giving him none, hecontinued:'I am a most miserable and wretched outcast, nearly sixty years old,and as destitute and helpless as a child of six.''I am sixty years old, too,' replied Ralph, 'and am neitherdestitute nor helpless. Work. Don't make fine play-acting speechesabout bread, but earn it.''How?' cried the other. 'Where? Show me the means. Will you givethem to me--will you?''I did once,' replied Ralph, composedly; 'you scarcely need ask mewhether I will again.''It's twenty years ago, or more,' said the man, in a suppressedvoice, 'since you and I fell out. You remember that? I claimed ashare in the profits of some business I brought to you, and, as Ipersisted, you arrested me for an old advance of ten pounds, oddshillings, including interest at fifty per cent, or so.''I remember something of it,' replied Ralph, carelessly. 'Whatthen?''That didn't part us,' said the man. 'I made submission, being onthe wrong side of the bolts and bars; and as you were not the mademan then that you are now, you were glad enough to take back a clerkwho wasn't over nice, and who knew something of the trade youdrove.''You begged and prayed, and I consented,' returned Ralph. 'That waskind of me. Perhaps I did want you. I forget. I should think Idid, or you would have begged in vain. You were useful; not toohonest, not too delicate, not too nice of hand or heart; butuseful.''Useful, indeed!' said the man. 'Come. You had pinched and groundme down for some years before that, but I had served you faithfullyup to that time, in spite of all your dog's usage. Had I?'Ralph made no reply.'Had I?' said the man again.'You had had your wages,' rejoined Ralph, 'and had done your work.We stood on equal ground so far, and could both cry quits.''Then, but not afterwards,' said the other.'Not afterwards, certainly, nor even then, for (as you have justsaid) you owed me money, and do still,' replied Ralph.'That's not all,' said the man, eagerly. 'That's not all. Markthat. I didn't forget that old sore, trust me. Partly inremembrance of that, and partly in the hope of making money somedayby the scheme, I took advantage of my position about you, andpossessed myself of a hold upon you, which you would give half ofall you have to know, and never can know but through me. I leftyou--long after that time, remember--and, for some poor trickerythat came within the law, but was nothing to what you money-makersdaily practise just outside its bounds, was sent away a convict forseven years. I have returned what you see me. Now, Mr Nickleby,'said the man, with a strange mixture of humility and sense of power,'what help and assistance will you give me; what bribe, to speak outplainly? My expectations are not monstrous, but I must live, and tolive I must eat and drink. Money is on your side, and hunger andthirst on mine. You may drive an easy bargain.''Is that all?' said Ralph, still eyeing his companion with the samesteady look, and moving nothing but his lips.'It depends on you, Mr Nickleby, whether that's all or not,' was therejoinder.'Why then, harkye, Mr--, I don't know by what name I am to callyou,' said Ralph.'By my old one, if you like.''Why then, harkye, Mr Brooker,' said Ralph, in his harshest accents,'and don't expect to draw another speech from me. Harkye, sir. Iknow you of old for a ready scoundrel, but you never had a stoutheart; and hard work, with (maybe) chains upon those legs of yours,and shorter food than when I "pinched" and "ground" you, has bluntedyour wits, or you would not come with such a tale as this to me.You a hold upon me! Keep it, or publish it to the world, if youlike.''I can't do that,' interposed Brooker. 'That wouldn't serve me.''Wouldn't it?' said Ralph. 'It will serve you as much as bringingit to me, I promise you. To be plain with you, I am a careful man,and know my affairs thoroughly. I know the world, and the worldknows me. Whatever you gleaned, or heard, or saw, when you servedme, the world knows and magnifies already. You could tell itnothing that would surprise it, unless, indeed, it redounded to mycredit or honour, and then it would scout you for a liar. And yet Idon't find business slack, or clients scrupulous. Quite thecontrary. I am reviled or threatened every day by one man oranother,' said Ralph; 'but things roll on just the same, and I don'tgrow poorer either.''I neither revile nor threaten,' rejoined the man. 'I can tell youof what you have lost by my act, what I only can restore, and what,if I die without restoring, dies with me, and never can beregained.''I tell my money pretty accurately, and generally keep it in my owncustody,' said Ralph. 'I look sharply after most men that I dealwith, and most of all I looked sharply after you. You are welcometo all you have kept from me.''Are those of your own name dear to you?' said the man emphatically.'If they are--''They are not,' returned Ralph, exasperated at this perseverance,and the thought of Nicholas, which the last question awakened.'They are not. If you had come as a common beggar, I might havethrown a sixpence to you in remembrance of the clever knave you usedto be; but since you try to palm these stale tricks upon one youmight have known better, I'll not part with a halfpenny--nor would Ito save you from rotting. And remember this, 'scape-gallows,' saidRalph, menacing him with his hand, 'that if we meet again, and youso much as notice me by one begging gesture, you shall see theinside of a jail once more, and tighten this hold upon me inintervals of the hard labour that vagabonds are put to. There's myanswer to your trash. Take it.'With a disdainful scowl at the object of his anger, who met his eyebut uttered not a word, Ralph walked away at his usual pace, withoutmanifesting the slightest curiosity to see what became of his latecompanion, or indeed once looking behind him. The man remained onthe same spot with his eyes fixed upon his retreating figure untilit was lost to view, and then drawing his arm about his chest, as ifthe damp and lack of food struck coldly to him, lingered withslouching steps by the wayside, and begged of those who passedalong.Ralph, in no-wise moved by what had lately passed, further than as hehad already expressed himself, walked deliberately on, and turningout of the Park and leaving Golden Square on his right, took his waythrough some streets at the west end of the town until he arrived inthat particular one in which stood the residence of MadameMantalini. The name of that lady no longer appeared on the flamingdoor-plate, that of Miss Knag being substituted in its stead; butthe bonnets and dresses were still dimly visible in the first-floorwindows by the decaying light of a summer's evening, and exceptingthis ostensible alteration in the proprietorship, the establishmentwore its old appearance.'Humph!' muttered Ralph, drawing his hand across his mouth with aconnoisseur-like air, and surveying the house from top to bottom;'these people look pretty well. They can't last long; but if I knowof their going in good time, I am safe, and a fair profit too. Imust keep them closely in view; that's all.'So, nodding his head very complacently, Ralph was leaving the spot,when his quick ear caught the sound of a confused noise and hubbubof voices, mingled with a great running up and down stairs, in thevery house which had been the subject of his scrutiny; and while hewas hesitating whether to knock at the door or listen at the keyholea little longer, a female servant of Madame Mantalini's (whom he hadoften seen) opened it abruptly and bounced out, with her blue cap-ribbons streaming in the air.'Hallo here. Stop!' cried Ralph. 'What's the matter? Here am I.Didn't you hear me knock?''Oh! Mr Nickleby, sir,' said the girl. 'Go up, for the love ofGracious. Master's been and done it again.''Done what?' said Ralph, tartly; 'what d'ye mean?''I knew he would if he was drove to it,' cried the girl. 'I said soall along.''Come here, you silly wench,' said Ralph, catching her by the wrist;'and don't carry family matters to the neighbours, destroying thecredit of the establishment. Come here; do you hear me, girl?'Without any further expostulation, he led or rather pulled thefrightened handmaid into the house, and shut the door; then biddingher walk upstairs before him, followed without more ceremony.Guided by the noise of a great many voices all talking together, andpassing the girl in his impatience, before they had ascended manysteps, Ralph quickly reached the private sitting-room, when he wasrather amazed by the confused and inexplicable scene in which hesuddenly found himself.There were all the young-lady workers, some with bonnets and somewithout, in various attitudes expressive of alarm and consternation;some gathered round Madame Mantalini, who was in tears upon onechair; and others round Miss Knag, who was in opposition tears uponanother; and others round Mr Mantalini, who was perhaps the moststriking figure in the whole group, for Mr Mantalini's legs wereextended at full length upon the floor, and his head and shoulderswere supported by a very tall footman, who didn't seem to know whatto do with them, and Mr Mantalini's eyes were closed, and his facewas pale and his hair was comparatively straight, and his whiskersand moustache were limp, and his teeth were clenched, and he had alittle bottle in his right hand, and a little tea-spoon in his left;and his hands, arms, legs, and shoulders, were all stiff andpowerless. And yet Madame Mantalini was not weeping upon the body,but was scolding violently upon her chair; and all this amidst aclamour of tongues perfectly deafening, and which really appeared tohave driven the unfortunate footman to the utmost verge ofdistraction.'What is the matter here?' said Ralph, pressing forward.At this inquiry, the clamour was increased twenty-fold, and anastounding string of such shrill contradictions as 'He's poisonedhimself'--'He hasn't'--'Send for a doctor'--'Don't'--'He's dying'--'He isn't, he's only pretending'--with various other cries, pouredforth with bewildering volubility, until Madame Mantalini was seento address herself to Ralph, when female curiosity to know what shewould say, prevailed, and, as if by general consent, a dead silence,unbroken by a single whisper, instantaneously succeeded.'Mr Nickleby,' said Madame Mantalini; 'by what chance you came here,I don't know.'Here a gurgling voice was heard to ejaculate, as part of thewanderings of a sick man, the words 'Demnition sweetness!' butnobody heeded them except the footman, who, being startled to hearsuch awful tones proceeding, as it were, from between his veryfingers, dropped his master's head upon the floor with a pretty loudcrash, and then, without an effort to lift it up, gazed upon thebystanders, as if he had done something rather clever thanotherwise.'I will, however,' continued Madame Mantalini, drying her eyes, andspeaking with great indignation, 'say before you, and beforeeverybody here, for the first time, and once for all, that I neverwill supply that man's extravagances and viciousness again. I havebeen a dupe and a fool to him long enough. In future, he shallsupport himself if he can, and then he may spend what money hepleases, upon whom and how he pleases; but it shall not be mine, andtherefore you had better pause before you trust him further.'Thereupon Madame Mantalini, quite unmoved by some most patheticlamentations on the part of her husband, that the apothecary had notmixed the prussic acid strong enough, and that he must take anotherbottle or two to finish the work he had in hand, entered into acatalogue of that amiable gentleman's gallantries, deceptions,extravagances, and infidelities (especially the last), winding upwith a protest against being supposed to entertain the smallestremnant of regard for him; and adducing, in proof of the alteredstate of her affections, the circumstance of his having poisonedhimself in private no less than six times within the last fortnight,and her not having once interfered by word or deed to save hislife.'And I insist on being separated and left to myself,' said MadameMantalini, sobbing. 'If he dares to refuse me a separation, I'llhave one in law--I can--and I hope this will be a warning to allgirls who have seen this disgraceful exhibition.'Miss Knag, who was unquestionably the oldest girl in company, saidwith great solemnity, that it would be a warning to her, and so didthe young ladies generally, with the exception of one or two whoappeared to entertain some doubts whether such whispers could dowrong.'Why do you say all this before so many listeners?' said Ralph, in alow voice. 'You know you are not in earnest.''I am in earnest,' replied Madame Mantalini, aloud, and retreatingtowards Miss Knag.'Well, but consider,' reasoned Ralph, who had a great interest inthe matter. 'It would be well to reflect. A married woman has noproperty.''Not a solitary single individual dem, my soul,' and Mr Mantalini,raising himself upon his elbow.'I am quite aware of that,' retorted Madame Mantalini, tossing herhead; 'and I have none. The business, the stock, this house, andeverything in it, all belong to Miss Knag.''That's quite true, Madame Mantalini,' said Miss Knag, with whom herlate employer had secretly come to an amicable understanding on thispoint. 'Very true, indeed, Madame Mantalini--hem--very true. And Inever was more glad in all my life, that I had strength of mind toresist matrimonial offers, no matter how advantageous, than I amwhen I think of my present position as compared with your mostunfortunate and most undeserved one, Madame Mantalini.''Demmit!' cried Mr Mantalini, turning his head towards his wife.'Will it not slap and pinch the envious dowager, that dares toreflect upon its own delicious?'But the day of Mr Mantalini's blandishments had departed. 'MissKnag, sir,' said his wife, 'is my particular friend;' and althoughMr Mantalini leered till his eyes seemed in danger of never comingback to their right places again, Madame Mantalini showed no signsof softening.To do the excellent Miss Knag justice, she had been mainlyinstrumental in bringing about this altered state of things, for,finding by daily experience, that there was no chance of thebusiness thriving, or even continuing to exist, while Mr Mantalinihad any hand in the expenditure, and having now a considerableinterest in its well-doing, she had sedulously applied herself tothe investigation of some little matters connected with thatgentleman's private character, which she had so well elucidated, andartfully imparted to Madame Mantalini, as to open her eyes moreeffectually than the closest and most philosophical reasoning couldhave done in a series of years. To which end, the accidentaldiscovery by Miss Knag of some tender correspondence, in whichMadame Mantalini was described as 'old' and 'ordinary,' had mostprovidentially contributed.However, notwithstanding her firmness, Madame Mantalini wept verypiteously; and as she leant upon Miss Knag, and signed towards thedoor, that young lady and all the other young ladies withsympathising faces, proceeded to bear her out.'Nickleby,' said Mr Mantalini in tears, 'you have been made awitness to this demnition cruelty, on the part of the demdestenslaver and captivator that never was, oh dem! I forgive thatwoman.''Forgive!' repeated Madame Mantalini, angrily.'I do forgive her, Nickleby,' said Mr Mantalini. 'You will blameme, the world will blame me, the women will blame me; everybody willlaugh, and scoff, and smile, and grin most demnebly. They will say,"She had a blessing. She did not know it. He was too weak; he wastoo good; he was a dem'd fine fellow, but he loved too strong; hecould not bear her to be cross, and call him wicked names. It was adem'd case, there never was a demder." But I forgive her.'With this affecting speech Mr Mantalini fell down again very flat,and lay to all appearance without sense or motion, until all thefemales had left the room, when he came cautiously into a sittingposture, and confronted Ralph with a very blank face, and the littlebottle still in one hand and the tea-spoon in the other.'You may put away those fooleries now, and live by your wits again,'said Ralph, coolly putting on his hat.'Demmit, Nickleby, you're not serious?''I seldom joke,' said Ralph. 'Good-night.''No, but Nickleby--' said Mantalini.'I am wrong, perhaps,' rejoined Ralph. 'I hope so. You should knowbest. Good-night.'Affecting not to hear his entreaties that he would stay and advisewith him, Ralph left the crest-fallen Mr Mantalini to hismeditations, and left the house quietly.'Oho!' he said, 'sets the wind that way so soon? Half knave andhalf fool, and detected in both characters? I think your day isover, sir.'As he said this, he made some memorandum in his pocket-book in whichMr Mantalini's name figured conspicuously, and finding by his watchthat it was between nine and ten o'clock, made all speed home.'Are they here?' was the first question he asked of Newman.Newman nodded. 'Been here half an hour.''Two of them? One a fat sleek man?''Ay,' said Newman. 'In your room now.''Good,' rejoined Ralph. 'Get me a coach.''A coach! What, you--going to--eh?' stammered Newman.Ralph angrily repeated his orders, and Noggs, who might well havebeen excused for wondering at such an unusual and extraordinarycircumstance (for he had never seen Ralph in a coach in his life)departed on his errand, and presently returned with the conveyance.Into it went Mr Squeers, and Ralph, and the third man, whom NewmanNoggs had never seen. Newman stood upon the door-step to see themoff, not troubling himself to wonder where or upon what businessthey were going, until he chanced by mere accident to hear Ralphname the address whither the coachman was to drive.Quick as lightning and in a state of the most extreme wonder, Newmandarted into his little office for his hat, and limped after thecoach as if with the intention of getting up behind; but in thisdesign he was balked, for it had too much the start of him and wassoon hopelessly ahead, leaving him gaping in the empty street.'I don't know though,' said Noggs, stopping for breath, 'any goodthat I could have done by going too. He would have seen me if Ihad. Drive there! What can come of this? If I had only known ityesterday I could have told--drive there! There's mischief in it.There must be.'His reflections were interrupted by a grey-haired man of a veryremarkable, though far from prepossessing appearance, who, comingstealthily towards him, solicited relief.Newman, still cogitating deeply, turned away; but the man followedhim, and pressed him with such a tale of misery that Newman (whomight have been considered a hopeless person to beg from, and whohad little enough to give) looked into his hat for some halfpencewhich he usually kept screwed up, when he had any, in a corner ofhis pocket-handkerchief.While he was busily untwisting the knot with his teeth, the man saidsomething which attracted his attention; whatever that somethingwas, it led to something else, and in the end he and Newman walkedaway side by side--the strange man talking earnestly, and Newmanlistening.