Chapter 56

by Charles Dickens

　　Ralph Nickleby, baffled by his Nephew in his late Design, hatches aScheme of Retaliation which Accident suggests to him, and takes intohis Counsels a tried AuxiliaryThe course which these adventures shape out for themselves, andimperatively call upon the historian to observe, now demands thatthey should revert to the point they attained previously to thecommencement of the last chapter, when Ralph Nickleby and ArthurGride were left together in the house where death had so suddenlyreared his dark and heavy banner.With clenched hands, and teeth ground together so firm and tightthat no locking of the jaws could have fixed and riveted them moresecurely, Ralph stood, for some minutes, in the attitude in which hehad last addressed his nephew: breathing heavily, but as rigid andmotionless in other respects as if he had been a brazen statue.After a time, he began, by slow degrees, as a man rousing himselffrom heavy slumber, to relax. For a moment he shook his claspedfist towards the door by which Nicholas had disappeared; and thenthrusting it into his breast, as if to repress by force even thisshow of passion, turned round and confronted the less hardy usurer,who had not yet risen from the ground.The cowering wretch, who still shook in every limb, and whose fewgrey hairs trembled and quivered on his head with abject dismay,tottered to his feet as he met Ralph's eye, and, shielding his facewith both hands, protested, while he crept towards the door, that itwas no fault of his.'Who said it was, man?' returned Ralph, in a suppressed voice. 'Whosaid it was?''You looked as if you thought I was to blame,' said Gride, timidly.'Pshaw!' Ralph muttered, forcing a laugh. 'I blame him for notliving an hour longer. One hour longer would have been long enough.I blame no one else.''N--n--no one else?' said Gride.'Not for this mischance,' replied Ralph. 'I have an old score toclear with that young fellow who has carried off your mistress;but that has nothing to do with his blustering just now, for weshould soon have been quit of him, but for this cursed accident.'There was something so unnatural in the calmness with which RalphNickleby spoke, when coupled with his face, the expression of thefeatures, to which every nerve and muscle, as it twitched andthrobbed with a spasm whose workings no effort could conceal, gave,every instant, some new and frightful aspect--there was something sounnatural and ghastly in the contrast between his harsh, slow,steady voice (only altered by a certain halting of the breath whichmade him pause between almost every word like a drunken man bentupon speaking plainly), and these evidences of the most intense andviolent passion, and the struggle he made to keep them under; thatif the dead body which lay above had stood, instead of him, beforethe cowering Gride, it could scarcely have presented a spectaclewhich would have terrified him more.'The coach,' said Ralph after a time, during which he had struggledlike some strong man against a fit. 'We came in a coach. Is itwaiting?'Gride gladly availed himself of the pretext for going to the windowto see. Ralph, keeping his face steadily the other way, tore at hisshirt with the hand which he had thrust into his breast, andmuttered in a hoarse whisper:'Ten thousand pounds! He said ten thousand! The precise sum paidin but yesterday for the two mortgages, and which would have goneout again, at heavy interest, tomorrow. If that house has failed,and he the first to bring the news!--Is the coach there?''Yes, yes,' said Gride, startled by the fierce tone of the inquiry.'It's here. Dear, dear, what a fiery man you are!''Come here,' said Ralph, beckoning to him. 'We mustn't make a showof being disturbed. We'll go down arm in arm.''But you pinch me black and blue,' urged Gride.Ralph let him go impatiently, and descending the stairs with hisusual firm and heavy tread, got into the coach. Arthur Gridefollowed. After looking doubtfully at Ralph when the man askedwhere he was to drive, and finding that he remained silent, andexpressed no wish upon the subject, Arthur mentioned his own house,and thither they proceeded.On their way, Ralph sat in the furthest corner with folded arms, anduttered not a word. With his chin sunk upon his breast, and hisdowncast eyes quite hidden by the contraction of his knotted brows,he might have been asleep for any sign of consciousness he gaveuntil the coach stopped, when he raised his head, and glancingthrough the window, inquired what place that was.'My house,' answered the disconsolate Gride, affected perhaps by itsloneliness. 'Oh dear! my house.''True,' said Ralph 'I have not observed the way we came. I shouldlike a glass of water. You have that in the house, I suppose?''You shall have a glass of--of anything you like,' answered Gride,with a groan. 'It's no use knocking, coachman. Ring the bell!'The man rang, and rang, and rang again; then, knocked until thestreet re-echoed with the sounds; then, listened at the keyhole ofthe door. Nobody came. The house was silent as the grave.'How's this?' said Ralph impatiently.'Peg is so very deaf,' answered Gride with a look of anxiety andalarm. 'Oh dear! Ring again, coachman. She sees the bell.'Again the man rang and knocked, and knocked and rang again. Some ofthe neighbours threw up their windows, and called across the streetto each other that old Gride's housekeeper must have dropped downdead. Others collected round the coach, and gave vent to varioussurmises; some held that she had fallen asleep; some, that she hadburnt herself to death; some, that she had got drunk; and one veryfat man that she had seen something to eat which had frightened herso much (not being used to it) that she had fallen into a fit. Thislast suggestion particularly delighted the bystanders, who cheeredit rather uproariously, and were, with some difficulty, deterredfrom dropping down the area and breaking open the kitchen door toascertain the fact. Nor was this all. Rumours having gone abroadthat Arthur was to be married that morning, very particularinquiries were made after the bride, who was held by the majority tobe disguised in the person of Mr Ralph Nickleby, which gave rise tomuch jocose indignation at the public appearance of a bride in bootsand pantaloons, and called forth a great many hoots and groans. Atlength, the two money-lenders obtained shelter in a house next door,and, being accommodated with a ladder, clambered over the wall ofthe back-yard--which was not a high one--and descended in safety onthe other side.'I am almost afraid to go in, I declare,' said Arthur, turning toRalph when they were alone. 'Suppose she should be murdered. Lyingwith her brains knocked out by a poker, eh?''Suppose she were,' said Ralph. 'I tell you, I wish such thingswere more common than they are, and more easily done. You may stareand shiver. I do!'He applied himself to a pump in the yard; and, having taken a deepdraught of water and flung a quantity on his head and face, regainedhis accustomed manner and led the way into the house: Gridefollowing close at his heels.It was the same dark place as ever: every room dismal and silent asit was wont to be, and every ghostly article of furniture in itscustomary place. The iron heart of the grim old clock, undisturbedby all the noise without, still beat heavily within its dusty case;the tottering presses slunk from the sight, as usual, in theirmelancholy corners; the echoes of footsteps returned the samedreary sound; the long-legged spider paused in his nimble run,and, scared by the sight of men in that his dull domain, hungmotionless on the wall, counterfeiting death until they should havepassed him by.From cellar to garret went the two usurers, opening every creakingdoor and looking into every deserted room. But no Peg was there.At last, they sat them down in the apartment which Arthur Grideusually inhabited, to rest after their search.'The hag is out, on some preparation for your wedding festivities, Isuppose,' said Ralph, preparing to depart. 'See here! I destroy thebond; we shall never need it now.'Gride, who had been peering narrowly about the room, fell, at thatmoment, upon his knees before a large chest, and uttered a terribleyell.'How now?' said Ralph, looking sternly round.'Robbed! robbed!' screamed Arthur Gride.'Robbed! of money?''No, no, no. Worse! far worse!''Of what then?' demanded Ralph.'Worse than money, worse than money!' cried the old man, casting thepapers out of the chest, like some beast tearing up the earth. 'Shehad better have stolen money--all my money--I haven't much! She hadbetter have made me a beggar than have done this!''Done what?' said Ralph. 'Done what, you devil's dotard?'Still Gride made no answer, but tore and scratched among the papers,and yelled and screeched like a fiend in torment.'There is something missing, you say,' said Ralph, shaking himfuriously by the collar. 'What is it?''Papers, deeds. I am a ruined man. Lost, lost! I am robbed, I amruined! She saw me reading it--reading it of late--I did veryoften--She watched me, saw me put it in the box that fitted intothis, the box is gone, she has stolen it. Damnation seize her, shehas robbed me!''Of what?' cried Ralph, on whom a sudden light appeared to break,for his eyes flashed and his frame trembled with agitation as heclutched Gride by his bony arm. 'Of what?''She don't know what it is; she can't read!' shrieked Gride, notheeding the inquiry. 'There's only one way in which money can bemade of it, and that is by taking it to her. Somebody will read itfor her, and tell her what to do. She and her accomplice will getmoney for it and be let off besides; they'll make a merit of it--saythey found it--knew it--and be evidence against me. The only personit will fall upon is me, me, me!''Patience!' said Ralph, clutching him still tighter and eyeing himwith a sidelong look, so fixed and eager as sufficiently to denotethat he had some hidden purpose in what he was about to say. 'Hearreason. She can't have been gone long. I'll call the police. Doyou but give information of what she has stolen, and they'll layhands upon her, trust me. Here! Help!''No, no, no!' screamed the old man, putting his hand on Ralph'smouth. 'I can't, I daren't.''Help! help!' cried Ralph.'No, no, no!' shrieked the other, stamping on the ground with theenergy of a madman. 'I tell you no. I daren't, I daren't!''Daren't make this robbery public?' said Ralph.'No!' rejoined Gride, wringing his hands. 'Hush! Hush! Not a wordof this; not a word must be said. I am undone. Whichever way Iturn, I am undone. I am betrayed. I shall be given up. I shalldie in Newgate!'With frantic exclamations such as these, and with many others inwhich fear, grief, and rage, were strangely blended, the panic-stricken wretch gradually subdued his first loud outcry, until ithad softened down into a low despairing moan, chequered now and thenby a howl, as, going over such papers as were left in the chest, hediscovered some new loss. With very little excuse for departing soabruptly, Ralph left him, and, greatly disappointing the loiterersoutside the house by telling them there was nothing the matter, gotinto the coach, and was driven to his own home.A letter lay on his table. He let it lie there for some time, as ifhe had not the courage to open it, but at length did so and turneddeadly pale.'The worst has happened,' he said; 'the house has failed. I see.The rumour was abroad in the city last night, and reached the earsof those merchants. Well, well!'He strode violently up and down the room and stopped again.'Ten thousand pounds! And only lying there for a day--for one day!How many anxious years, how many pinching days and sleepless nights,before I scraped together that ten thousand pounds!--Ten thousandpounds! How many proud painted dames would have fawned and smiled,and how many spendthrift blockheads done me lip-service to my faceand cursed me in their hearts, while I turned that ten thousandpounds into twenty! While I ground, and pinched, and used theseneedy borrowers for my pleasure and profit, what smooth-tonguedspeeches, and courteous looks, and civil letters, they would havegiven me! The cant of the lying world is, that men like me compassour riches by dissimulation and treachery: by fawning, cringing, andstooping. Why, how many lies, what mean and abject evasions, whathumbled behaviour from upstarts who, but for my money, would spurnme aside as they do their betters every day, would that ten thousandpounds have brought me in! Grant that I had doubled it--made cent.per cent.--for every sovereign told another--there would not be onepiece of money in all the heap which wouldn't represent ten thousandmean and paltry lies, told, not by the money-lender, oh no! but bythe money-borrowers, your liberal, thoughtless, generous, dashingfolks, who wouldn't be so mean as save a sixpence for the world!'Striving, as it would seem, to lose part of the bitterness of hisregrets in the bitterness of these other thoughts, Ralph continuedto pace the room. There was less and less of resolution in hismanner as his mind gradually reverted to his loss; at length,dropping into his elbow-chair and grasping its sides so firmly thatthey creaked again, he said:'The time has been when nothing could have moved me like the loss ofthis great sum. Nothing. For births, deaths, marriages, and all theevents which are of interest to most men, have (unless they areconnected with gain or loss of money) no interest for me. But now,I swear, I mix up with the loss, his triumph in telling it. If hehad brought it about,--I almost feel as if he had,--I couldn't hatehim more. Let me but retaliate upon him, by degrees, however slow--let me but begin to get the better of him, let me but turn thescale--and I can bear it.'His meditations were long and deep. They terminated in hisdispatching a letter by Newman, addressed to Mr Squeers at theSaracen's Head, with instructions to inquire whether he had arrivedin town, and, if so, to wait an answer. Newman brought back theinformation that Mr Squeers had come by mail that morning, and hadreceived the letter in bed; but that he sent his duty, and word thathe would get up and wait upon Mr Nickleby directly.The interval between the delivery of this message, and the arrivalof Mr Squeers, was very short; but, before he came, Ralph hadsuppressed every sign of emotion, and once more regained the hard,immovable, inflexible manner which was habitual to him, and towhich, perhaps, was ascribable no small part of the influence which,over many men of no very strong prejudices on the score of morality,he could exert, almost at will.'Well, Mr Squeers,' he said, welcoming that worthy with hisaccustomed smile, of which a sharp look and a thoughtful frown werepart and parcel: 'how do you do?''Why, sir,' said Mr Squeers, 'I'm pretty well. So's the family, andso's the boys, except for a sort of rash as is a running through theschool, and rather puts 'em off their feed. But it's a ill wind asblows no good to nobody; that's what I always say when them lads hasa wisitation. A wisitation, sir, is the lot of mortality.Mortality itself, sir, is a wisitation. The world is chock full ofwisitations; and if a boy repines at a wisitation and makes youuncomfortable with his noise, he must have his head punched. That'sgoing according to the Scripter, that is.''Mr Squeers,' said Ralph, drily.'Sir.''We'll avoid these precious morsels of morality if you please, andtalk of business.''With all my heart, sir,' rejoined Squeers, 'and first let me say--''First let me say, if you please.--Noggs!'Newman presented himself when the summons had been twice or thricerepeated, and asked if his master called.'I did. Go to your dinner. And go at once. Do you hear?''It an't time,' said Newman, doggedly.'My time is yours, and I say it is,' returned Ralph.'You alter it every day,' said Newman. 'It isn't fair.''You don't keep many cooks, and can easily apologise to them for thetrouble,' retorted Ralph. 'Begone, sir!'Ralph not only issued this order in his most peremptory manner, but,under pretence of fetching some papers from the little office, sawit obeyed, and, when Newman had left the house, chained the door, toprevent the possibility of his returning secretly, by means of hislatch-key.'I have reason to suspect that fellow,' said Ralph, when he returnedto his own office. 'Therefore, until I have thought of the shortestand least troublesome way of ruining him, I hold it best to keep himat a distance.''It wouldn't take much to ruin him, I should think,' said Squeers,with a grin.'Perhaps not,' answered Ralph. 'Nor to ruin a great many peoplewhom I know. You were going to say--?'Ralph's summary and matter-of-course way of holding up this example,and throwing out the hint that followed it, had evidently an effect(as doubtless it was designed to have) upon Mr Squeers, who said,after a little hesitation and in a much more subdued tone:'Why, what I was a-going to say, sir, is, that this here businessregarding of that ungrateful and hard-hearted chap, Snawley senior,puts me out of my way, and occasions a inconveniency quiteunparalleled, besides, as I may say, making, for whole weekstogether, Mrs Squeers a perfect widder. It's a pleasure to me toact with you, of course.''Of course,' said Ralph, drily.'Yes, I say of course,' resumed Mr Squeers, rubbing his knees, 'butat the same time, when one comes, as I do now, better than twohundred and fifty mile to take a afferdavid, it does put a man out agood deal, letting alone the risk.''And where may the risk be, Mr Squeers?' said Ralph.'I said, letting alone the risk,' replied Squeers, evasively.'And I said, where was the risk?''I wasn't complaining, you know, Mr Nickleby,' pleaded Squeers.'Upon my word I never see such a--''I ask you where is the risk?' repeated Ralph, emphatically.'Where the risk?' returned Squeers, rubbing his knees still harder.'Why, it an't necessary to mention. Certain subjects is bestawoided. Oh, you know what risk I mean.''How often have I told you,' said Ralph, 'and how often am I to tellyou, that you run no risk? What have you sworn, or what are youasked to swear, but that at such and such a time a boy was left withyou in the name of Smike; that he was at your school for a givennumber of years, was lost under such and such circumstances, is nowfound, and has been identified by you in such and such keeping?This is all true; is it not?''Yes,' replied Squeers, 'that's all true.''Well, then,' said Ralph, 'what risk do you run? Who swears to alie but Snawley; a man whom I have paid much less than I have you?''He certainly did it cheap, did Snawley,' observed Squeers.'He did it cheap!' retorted Ralph, testily; 'yes, and he did itwell, and carries it off with a hypocritical face and a sanctifiedair, but you! Risk! What do you mean by risk? The certificates areall genuine, Snawley had another son, he has been married twice, hisfirst wife is dead, none but her ghost could tell that she didn'twrite that letter, none but Snawley himself can tell that this isnot his son, and that his son is food for worms! The only perjuryis Snawley's, and I fancy he is pretty well used to it. Where'syour risk?''Why, you know,' said Squeers, fidgeting in his chair, 'if you cometo that, I might say where's yours?''You might say where's mine!' returned Ralph; 'you may say where'smine. I don't appear in the business, neither do you. AllSnawley's interest is to stick well to the story he has told; andall his risk is, to depart from it in the least. Talk of your riskin the conspiracy!''I say,' remonstrated Squeers, looking uneasily round: 'don't callit that! Just as a favour, don't.''Call it what you like,' said Ralph, irritably, 'but attend to me.This tale was originally fabricated as a means of annoyance againstone who hurt your trade and half cudgelled you to death, and toenable you to obtain repossession of a half-dead drudge, whom youwished to regain, because, while you wreaked your vengeance on himfor his share in the business, you knew that the knowledge that hewas again in your power would be the best punishment you couldinflict upon your enemy. Is that so, Mr Squeers?''Why, sir,' returned Squeers, almost overpowered by thedetermination which Ralph displayed to make everything tell againsthim, and by his stern unyielding manner, 'in a measure it was.''What does that mean?' said Ralph.'Why, in a measure means," returned Squeers, 'as it may be, that itwasn't all on my account, because you had some old grudge tosatisfy, too.''If I had not had,' said Ralph, in no way abashed by the reminder,'do you think I should have helped you?''Why no, I don't suppose you would,' Squeers replied. 'I onlywanted that point to be all square and straight between us.''How can it ever be otherwise?' retorted Ralph. 'Except that theaccount is against me, for I spend money to gratify my hatred, andyou pocket it, and gratify yours at the same time. You are, atleast, as avaricious as you are revengeful. So am I. Which is bestoff? You, who win money and revenge, at the same time and by thesame process, and who are, at all events, sure of money, if not ofrevenge; or I, who am only sure of spending money in any case, andcan but win bare revenge at last?'As Mr Squeers could only answer this proposition by shrugs andsmiles, Ralph bade him be silent, and thankful that he was so welloff; and then, fixing his eyes steadily upon him, proceeded to say:First, that Nicholas had thwarted him in a plan he had formed forthe disposal in marriage of a certain young lady, and had, in theconfusion attendant on her father's sudden death, secured that ladyhimself, and borne her off in triumph.Secondly, that by some will or settlement--certainly by someinstrument in writing, which must contain the young lady's name, andcould be, therefore, easily selected from others, if access to theplace where it was deposited were once secured--she was entitled toproperty which, if the existence of this deed ever became known toher, would make her husband (and Ralph represented that Nicholas wascertain to marry her) a rich and prosperous man, and most formidableenemy.Thirdly, that this deed had been, with others, stolen from one whohad himself obtained or concealed it fraudulently, and who feared totake any steps for its recovery; and that he (Ralph) knew the thief.To all this Mr Squeers listened, with greedy ears that devouredevery syllable, and with his one eye and his mouth wide open:marvelling for what special reason he was honoured with so much ofRalph's confidence, and to what it all tended.'Now,' said Ralph, leaning forward, and placing his hand onSqueers's arm, 'hear the design which I have conceived, and which Imust--I say, must, if I can ripen it--have carried into execution.No advantage can be reaped from this deed, whatever it is, save bythe girl herself, or her husband; and the possession of this deed byone or other of them is indispensable to any advantage being gained.that I have discovered beyond the possibility of doubt. I want thatdeed brought here, that I may give the man who brings it fiftypounds in gold, and burn it to ashes before his face.'Mr Squeers, after following with his eye the action of Ralph's handtowards the fire-place as if he were at that moment consuming thepaper, drew a long breath, and said:'Yes; but who's to bring it?''Nobody, perhaps, for much is to be done before it can be got at,'said Ralph. 'But if anybody--you!'Mr Squeers's first tokens of consternation, and his flatrelinquishment of the task, would have staggered most men, if theyhad not immediately occasioned an utter abandonment of theproposition. On Ralph they produced not the slightest effect.Resuming, when the schoolmaster had quite talked himself out ofbreath, as coolly as if he had never been interrupted, Ralphproceeded to expatiate on such features of the case as he deemed itmost advisable to lay the greatest stress on.These were, the age, decrepitude, and weakness of Mrs Sliderskew;the great improbability of her having any accomplice or evenacquaintance: taking into account her secluded habits, and her longresidence in such a house as Gride's; the strong reason there was tosuppose that the robbery was not the result of a concerted plan:otherwise she would have watched an opportunity of carrying off asum of money; the difficulty she would be placed in when she beganto think on what she had done, and found herself encumbered withdocuments of whose nature she was utterly ignorant; and thecomparative ease with which somebody, with a full knowledge of herposition, obtaining access to her, and working on her fears, ifnecessary, might worm himself into her confidence and obtain, underone pretence or another, free possession of the deed. To these wereadded such considerations as the constant residence of Mr Squeers ata long distance from London, which rendered his association with MrsSliderskew a mere masquerading frolic, in which nobody was likely torecognise him, either at the time or afterwards; the impossibilityof Ralph's undertaking the task himself, he being already known toher by sight; and various comments on the uncommon tact andexperience of Mr Squeers: which would make his overreaching one oldwoman a mere matter of child's play and amusement. In addition tothese influences and persuasions, Ralph drew, with his utmost skilland power, a vivid picture of the defeat which Nicholas wouldsustain, should they succeed, in linking himself to a beggar, wherehe expected to wed an heiress--glanced at the immeasurableimportance it must be to a man situated as Squeers, to preserve sucha friend as himself--dwelt on a long train of benefits, conferredsince their first acquaintance, when he had reported favourably ofhis treatment of a sickly boy who had died under his hands (andwhose death was very convenient to Ralph and his clients, but thishe did not say), and finally hinted that the fifty pounds might beincreased to seventy-five, or, in the event of very great success,even to a hundred.These arguments at length concluded, Mr Squeers crossed his legs,uncrossed them, scratched his head, rubbed his eye, examined thepalms of his hands, and bit his nails, and after exhibiting manyother signs of restlessness and indecision, asked 'whether onehundred pound was the highest that Mr Nickleby could go.' Beinganswered in the affirmative, he became restless again, and, aftersome thought, and an unsuccessful inquiry 'whether he couldn't goanother fifty,' said he supposed he must try and do the most hecould for a friend: which was always his maxim, and therefore heundertook the job.'But how are you to get at the woman?' he said; 'that's what it isas puzzles me.''I may not get at her at all,' replied Ralph, 'but I'll try. I havehunted people in this city, before now, who have been better hidthan she; and I know quarters in which a guinea or two, carefullyspent, will often solve darker riddles than this. Ay, and keep themclose too, if need be! I hear my man ringing at the door. We mayas well part. You had better not come to and fro, but wait till youhear from me.''Good!' returned Squeers. 'I say! If you shouldn't find her out,you'll pay expenses at the Saracen, and something for loss of time?''Well,' said Ralph, testily; 'yes! You have nothing more to say?'Squeers shaking his head, Ralph accompanied him to the streetdoor,and audibly wondering, for the edification of Newman, why it wasfastened as if it were night, let him in and Squeers out, andreturned to his own room.'Now!' he muttered, 'come what come may, for the present I am firmand unshaken. Let me but retrieve this one small portion of my lossand disgrace; let me but defeat him in this one hope, dear to hisheart as I know it must be; let me but do this; and it shall be thefirst link in such a chain which I will wind about him, as neverman forged yet.'