Chapter 59

by Charles Dickens

　　The Plots begin to fail, and Doubts and Dangers to disturb thePlotterRalph sat alone, in the solitary room where he was accustomed totake his meals, and to sit of nights when no profitable occupationcalled him abroad. Before him was an untasted breakfast, and nearto where his fingers beat restlessly upon the table, lay his watch.It was long past the time at which, for many years, he had put it inhis pocket and gone with measured steps downstairs to the businessof the day, but he took as little heed of its monotonous warning, asof the meat and drink before him, and remained with his head restingon one hand, and his eyes fixed moodily on the ground.This departure from his regular and constant habit, in one soregular and unvarying in all that appertained to the daily pursuitof riches, would almost of itself have told that the usurer was notwell. That he laboured under some mental or bodily indisposition,and that it was one of no slight kind so to affect a man like him,was sufficiently shown by his haggard face, jaded air, and hollowlanguid eyes: which he raised at last with a start and a hastyglance around him, as one who suddenly awakes from sleep, and cannotimmediately recognise the place in which he finds himself.'What is this,' he said, 'that hangs over me, and I cannot shakeoff? I have never pampered myself, and should not be ill. I havenever moped, and pined, and yielded to fancies; but what can a mando without rest?'He pressed his hand upon his forehead.'Night after night comes and goes, and I have no rest. If I sleep,what rest is that which is disturbed by constant dreams of the samedetested faces crowding round me--of the same detested people, inevery variety of action, mingling with all I say and do, and alwaysto my defeat? Waking, what rest have I, constantly haunted by thisheavy shadow of--I know not what--which is its worst character? Imust have rest. One night's unbroken rest, and I should be a managain.'Pushing the table from him while he spoke, as though he loathed thesight of food, he encountered the watch: the hands of which werealmost upon noon.'This is strange!' he said; 'noon, and Noggs not here! What drunkenbrawl keeps him away? I would give something now--something inmoney even after that dreadful loss--if he had stabbed a man in atavern scuffle, or broken into a house, or picked a pocket, or doneanything that would send him abroad with an iron ring upon his leg,and rid me of him. Better still, if I could throw temptation in hisway, and lure him on to rob me. He should be welcome to what hetook, so I brought the law upon him; for he is a traitor, I swear!How, or when, or where, I don't know, though I suspect.'After waiting for another half-hour, he dispatched the woman whokept his house to Newman's lodging, to inquire if he were ill, andwhy he had not come or sent. She brought back answer that he hadnot been home all night, and that no one could tell her anythingabout him.'But there is a gentleman, sir,' she said, 'below, who was standingat the door when I came in, and he says--''What says he?' demanded Ralph, turning angrily upon her. 'I toldyou I would see nobody.''He says,' replied the woman, abashed by his harshness, 'that hecomes on very particular business which admits of no excuse; and Ithought perhaps it might be about--''About what, in the devil's name?' said Ralph. 'You spy andspeculate on people's business with me, do you?''Dear, no, sir! I saw you were anxious, and thought it might beabout Mr Noggs; that's all.''Saw I was anxious!' muttered Ralph; 'they all watch me, now. Whereis this person? You did not say I was not down yet, I hope?'The woman replied that he was in the little office, and that she hadsaid her master was engaged, but she would take the message.'Well,' said Ralph, 'I'll see him. Go you to your kitchen, and keepthere. Do you mind me?'Glad to be released, the woman quickly disappeared. Collectinghimself, and assuming as much of his accustomed manner as his utmostresolution could summon, Ralph descended the stairs. After pausingfor a few moments, with his hand upon the lock, he entered Newman'sroom, and confronted Mr Charles Cheeryble.Of all men alive, this was one of the last he would have wished tomeet at any time; but, now that he recognised in him only the patronand protector of Nicholas, he would rather have seen a spectre. Onebeneficial effect, however, the encounter had upon him. Itinstantly roused all his dormant energies; rekindled in his breastthe passions that, for many years, had found an improving homethere; called up all his wrath, hatred, and malice; restored thesneer to his lip, and the scowl to his brow; and made him again, inall outward appearance, the same Ralph Nickleby whom so many hadbitter cause to remember.'Humph!' said Ralph, pausing at the door. 'This is an unexpectedfavour, sir.''And an unwelcome one,' said brother Charles; 'an unwelcome one, Iknow.''Men say you are truth itself, sir,' replied Ralph. 'You speaktruth now, at all events, and I'll not contradict you. The favouris, at least, as unwelcome as it is unexpected. I can scarcely saymore.''Plainly, sir--' began brother Charles.'Plainly, sir,' interrupted Ralph, 'I wish this conference to be ashort one, and to end where it begins. I guess the subject uponwhich you are about to speak, and I'll not hear you. You likeplainness, I believe; there it is. Here is the door as you see.Our way lies in very different directions. Take yours, I beg ofyou, and leave me to pursue mine in quiet.''In quiet!' repeated brother Charles mildly, and looking at him withmore of pity than reproach. 'To pursue his way in quiet!''You will scarcely remain in my house, I presume, sir, against mywill,' said Ralph; 'or you can scarcely hope to make an impressionupon a man who closes his ears to all that you can say, and isfirmly and resolutely determined not to hear you.''Mr Nickleby, sir,' returned brother Charles: no less mildly thanbefore, but firmly too: 'I come here against my will, sorely andgrievously against my will. I have never been in this house before;and, to speak my mind, sir, I don't feel at home or easy in it, andhave no wish ever to be here again. You do not guess the subject onwhich I come to speak to you; you do not indeed. I am sure of that,or your manner would be a very different one.'Ralph glanced keenly at him, but the clear eye and open countenanceof the honest old merchant underwent no change of expression, andmet his look without reserve.'Shall I go on?' said Mr Cheeryble.'Oh, by all means, if you please,' returned Ralph drily. 'Here arewalls to speak to, sir, a desk, and two stools: most attentiveauditors, and certain not to interrupt you. Go on, I beg; make myhouse yours, and perhaps by the time I return from my walk, you willhave finished what you have to say, and will yield me up possessionagain.'So saying, he buttoned his coat, and turning into the passage, tookdown his hat. The old gentleman followed, and was about to speak,when Ralph waved him off impatiently, and said:'Not a word. I tell you, sir, not a word. Virtuous as you are, youare not an angel yet, to appear in men's houses whether they will orno, and pour your speech into unwilling ears. Preach to the walls Itell you; not to me!''I am no angel, Heaven knows,' returned brother Charles, shaking hishead, 'but an erring and imperfect man; nevertheless, there is onequality which all men have, in common with the angels, blessedopportunities of exercising, if they will; mercy. It is an errandof mercy that brings me here. Pray let me discharge it.''I show no mercy,' retorted Ralph with a triumphant smile, 'and Iask none. Seek no mercy from me, sir, in behalf of the fellow whohas imposed upon your childish credulity, but let him expect theworst that I can do.''He ask mercy at your hands!' exclaimed the old merchant warmly;'ask it at his, sir; ask it at his. If you will not hear me now,when you may, hear me when you must, or anticipate what I would say,and take measures to prevent our ever meeting again. Your nephew isa noble lad, sir, an honest, noble lad. What you are, Mr Nickleby,I will not say; but what you have done, I know. Now, sir, when yougo about the business in which you have been recently engaged, andfind it difficult of pursuing, come to me and my brother Ned, andTim Linkinwater, sir, and we'll explain it for you--and come soon,or it may be too late, and you may have it explained with a littlemore roughness, and a little less delicacy--and never forget, sir,that I came here this morning, in mercy to you, and am still readyto talk to you in the same spirit.'With these words, uttered with great emphasis and emotion, brotherCharles put on his broad-brimmed hat, and, passing Ralph Nicklebywithout any other remark, trotted nimbly into the street. Ralphlooked after him, but neither moved nor spoke for some time: when hebroke what almost seemed the silence of stupefaction, by a scornfullaugh.'This,' he said, 'from its wildness, should be another of thosedreams that have so broken my rest of late. In mercy to me! Pho!The old simpleton has gone mad.'Although he expressed himself in this derisive and contemptuousmanner, it was plain that, the more Ralph pondered, the more ill atease he became, and the more he laboured under some vague anxietyand alarm, which increased as the time passed on and no tidings ofNewman Noggs arrived. After waiting until late in the afternoon,tortured by various apprehensions and misgivings, and therecollection of the warning which his nephew had given him when theylast met: the further confirmation of which now presented itself inone shape of probability, now in another, and haunted himperpetually: he left home, and, scarcely knowing why, save that hewas in a suspicious and agitated mood, betook himself to Snawley'shouse. His wife presented herself; and, of her, Ralph inquiredwhether her husband was at home.'No,' she said sharply, 'he is not indeed, and I don't think he willbe at home for a very long time; that's more.''Do you know who I am?' asked Ralph.'Oh yes, I know you very well; too well, perhaps, and perhaps hedoes too, and sorry am I that I should have to say it.''Tell him that I saw him through the window-blind above, as Icrossed the road just now, and that I would speak to him onbusiness,' said Ralph. 'Do you hear?''I hear,' rejoined Mrs Snawley, taking no further notice of therequest.'I knew this woman was a hypocrite, in the way of psalms andScripture phrases,' said Ralph, passing quietly by, 'but I neverknew she drank before.''Stop! You don't come in here,' said Mr Snawley's better-half,interposing her person, which was a robust one, in the doorway.'You have said more than enough to him on business, before now. Ialways told him what dealing with you and working out your schemeswould come to. It was either you or the schoolmaster--one of you,or the two between you--that got the forged letter done; rememberthat! That wasn't his doing, so don't lay it at his door.''Hold your tongue, you Jezebel,' said Ralph, looking fearfullyround.'Ah, I know when to hold my tongue, and when to speak, Mr Nickleby,'retorted the dame. 'Take care that other people know when to holdtheirs.''You jade,' said Ralph, 'if your husband has been idiot enough totrust you with his secrets, keep them; keep them, she-devil that youare!''Not so much his secrets as other people's secrets, perhaps,'retorted the woman; 'not so much his secrets as yours. None of yourblack looks at me! You'll want 'em all, perhaps, for another time.You had better keep 'em.''Will you,' said Ralph, suppressing his passion as well as he could,and clutching her tightly by the wrist; 'will you go to your husbandand tell him that I know he is at home, and that I must see him?And will you tell me what it is that you and he mean by this newstyle of behaviour?''No,' replied the woman, violently disengaging herself, 'I'll doneither.''You set me at defiance, do you?' said Ralph.'Yes,' was the answer. I do.'For an instant Ralph had his hand raised, as though he were about tostrike her; but, checking himself, and nodding his head andmuttering as though to assure her he would not forget this, walkedaway.Thence, he went straight to the inn which Mr Squeers frequented, andinquired when he had been there last; in the vague hope that,successful or unsuccessful, he might, by this time, have returnedfrom his mission and be able to assure him that all was safe. ButMr Squeers had not been there for ten days, and all that the peoplecould tell about him was, that he had left his luggage and his bill.Disturbed by a thousand fears and surmises, and bent uponascertaining whether Squeers had any suspicion of Snawley, or was,in any way, a party to this altered behaviour, Ralph determined tohazard the extreme step of inquiring for him at the Lambeth lodging,and having an interview with him even there. Bent upon thispurpose, and in that mood in which delay is insupportable, herepaired at once to the place; and being, by description, perfectlyacquainted with the situation of his room, crept upstairs andknocked gently at the door.Not one, nor two, nor three, nor yet a dozen knocks, served toconvince Ralph, against his wish, that there was nobody inside. Hereasoned that he might be asleep; and, listening, almost persuadedhimself that he could hear him breathe. Even when he was satisfiedthat he could not be there, he sat patiently on a broken stair andwaited; arguing, that he had gone out upon some slight errand, andmust soon return.Many feet came up the creaking stairs; and the step of some seemedto his listening ear so like that of the man for whom he waited,that Ralph often stood up to be ready to address him when he reachedthe top; but, one by one, each person turned off into some roomshort of the place where he was stationed: and at every suchdisappointment he felt quite chilled and lonely.At length he felt it was hopeless to remain, and going downstairsagain, inquired of one of the lodgers if he knew anything of MrSqueers's movements--mentioning that worthy by an assumed name whichhad been agreed upon between them. By this lodger he was referredto another, and by him to someone else, from whom he learnt, that,late on the previous night, he had gone out hastily with two men,who had shortly afterwards returned for the old woman who lived onthe same floor; and that, although the circumstance had attractedthe attention of the informant, he had not spoken to them at thetime, nor made any inquiry afterwards.This possessed him with the idea that, perhaps, Peg Sliderskew hadbeen apprehended for the robbery, and that Mr Squeers, being withher at the time, had been apprehended also, on suspicion of being aconfederate. If this were so, the fact must be known to Gride; andto Gride's house he directed his steps; now thoroughly alarmed, andfearful that there were indeed plots afoot, tending to hisdiscomfiture and ruin.Arrived at the usurer's house, he found the windows close shut, thedingy blinds drawn down; all was silent, melancholy, and deserted.But this was its usual aspect. He knocked--gently at first--thenloud and vigorously. Nobody came. He wrote a few words inpencil on a card, and having thrust it under the door was goingaway, when a noise above, as though a window-sash were stealthilyraised, caught his ear, and looking up he could just discern theface of Gride himself, cautiously peering over the house parapetfrom the window of the garret. Seeing who was below, he drew it inagain; not so quickly, however, but that Ralph let him know he wasobserved, and called to him to come down.The call being repeated, Gride looked out again, so cautiously thatno part of the old man's body was visible. The sharp features andwhite hair appearing alone, above the parapet, looked like a severedhead garnishing the wall.'Hush!' he cried. 'Go away, go away!''Come down,' said Ralph, beckoning him.'Go a--way!' squeaked Gride, shaking his head in a sort of ecstasyof impatience. 'Don't speak to me, don't knock, don't callattention to the house, but go away.''I'll knock, I swear, till I have your neighbours up in arms,' saidRalph, 'if you don't tell me what you mean by lurking there, youwhining cur.''I can't hear what you say--don't talk to me--it isn't safe--goaway--go away!' returned Gride.'Come down, I say. Will you come down?' said Ralph fiercely.'No--o--o--oo,' snarled Gride. He drew in his head; and Ralph, leftstanding in the street, could hear the sash closed, as gently andcarefully as it had been opened.'How is this,' said he, 'that they all fall from me, and shun melike the plague, these men who have licked the dust from my feet?Is my day past, and is this indeed the coming on of night? I'llknow what it means! I will, at any cost. I am firmer and moremyself, just now, than I have been these many days.'Turning from the door, which, in the first transport of his rage, hehad meditated battering upon until Gride's very fears should impelhim to open it, he turned his face towards the city, and working hisway steadily through the crowd which was pouring from it (it was bythis time between five and six o'clock in the afternoon) wentstraight to the house of business of the brothers Cheeryble, andputting his head into the glass case, found Tim Linkinwater alone.'My name's Nickleby,' said Ralph.'I know it,' replied Tim, surveying him through his spectacles.'Which of your firm was it who called on me this morning?' demandedRalph.'Mr Charles.''Then, tell Mr Charles I want to see him.''You shall see,' said Tim, getting off his stool with great agility,'you shall see, not only Mr Charles, but Mr Ned likewise.'Tim stopped, looked steadily and severely at Ralph, nodded his headonce, in a curt manner which seemed to say there was a little morebehind, and vanished. After a short interval, he returned, and,ushering Ralph into the presence of the two brothers, remained inthe room himself.'I want to speak to you, who spoke to me this morning,' said Ralph,pointing out with his finger the man whom he addressed.'I have no secrets from my brother Ned, or from Tim Linkinwater,'observed brother Charles quietly.'I have,' said Ralph.'Mr Nickleby, sir,' said brother Ned, 'the matter upon which mybrother Charles called upon you this morning is one which is alreadyperfectly well known to us three, and to others besides, and mustunhappily soon become known to a great many more. He waited uponyou, sir, this morning, alone, as a matter of delicacy andconsideration. We feel, now, that further delicacy andconsideration would be misplaced; and, if we confer together, itmust be as we are or not at all.''Well, gentlemen,' said Ralph with a curl of the lip, 'talking inriddles would seem to be the peculiar forte of you two, and Isuppose your clerk, like a prudent man, has studied the art alsowith a view to your good graces. Talk in company, gentlemen, inGod's name. I'll humour you.''Humour!' cried Tim Linkinwater, suddenly growing very red in theface. 'He'll humour us! He'll humour Cheeryble Brothers! Do youhear that? Do you hear him? Do you hear him say he'll humourCheeryble Brothers?''Tim,' said Charles and Ned together, 'pray, Tim, pray now, don't.'Tim, taking the hint, stifled his indignation as well as he could,and suffered it to escape through his spectacles, with theadditional safety-valve of a short hysterical laugh now and then,which seemed to relieve him mightily.'As nobody bids me to a seat,' said Ralph, looking round, 'I'll takeone, for I am fatigued with walking. And now, if you please,gentlemen, I wish to know--I demand to know; I have the right--whatyou have to say to me, which justifies such a tone as you haveassumed, and that underhand interference in my affairs which, I havereason to suppose, you have been practising. I tell you plainly,gentlemen, that little as I care for the opinion of the world (asthe slang goes), I don't choose to submit quietly to slander andmalice. Whether you suffer yourselves to be imposed upon tooeasily, or wilfully make yourselves parties to it, the result to meis the same. In either case, you can't expect from a plain man likemyself much consideration or forbearance.'So coolly and deliberately was this said, that nine men out of ten,ignorant of the circumstances, would have supposed Ralph to bereally an injured man. There he sat, with folded arms; paler thanusual, certainly, and sufficiently ill-favoured, but quitecollected--far more so than the brothers or the exasperated Tim--andready to face out the worst.'Very well, sir,' said brother Charles. 'Very well. Brother Ned,will you ring the bell?''Charles, my dear fellow! stop one instant,' returned the other.'It will be better for Mr Nickleby and for our object that he shouldremain silent, if he can, till we have said what we have to say. Iwish him to understand that.''Quite right, quite right,' said brother Charles.Ralph smiled, but made no reply. The bell was rung; the room-dooropened; a man came in, with a halting walk; and, looking round,Ralph's eyes met those of Newman Noggs. From that moment, his heartbegan to fail him.'This is a good beginning,' he said bitterly. 'Oh! this is a goodbeginning. You are candid, honest, open-hearted, fair-dealing men!I always knew the real worth of such characters as yours! To tamperwith a fellow like this, who would sell his soul (if he had one) fordrink, and whose every word is a lie. What men are safe if this isdone? Oh, it's a good beginning!''I will speak,' cried Newman, standing on tiptoe to look over Tim'shead, who had interposed to prevent him. 'Hallo, you sir--oldNickleby!--what do you mean when you talk of "a fellow like this"?Who made me "a fellow like this"? If I would sell my soul fordrink, why wasn't I a thief, swindler, housebreaker, area sneak,robber of pence out of the trays of blind men's dogs, rather thanyour drudge and packhorse? If my every word was a lie, why wasn't Ia pet and favourite of yours? Lie! When did I ever cringe and fawnto you. Tell me that! I served you faithfully. I did morework, because I was poor, and took more hard words from you becauseI despised you and them, than any man you could have got from theparish workhouse. I did. I served you because I was proud; becauseI was a lonely man with you, and there were no other drudges to seemy degradation; and because nobody knew, better than you, that I wasa ruined man: that I hadn't always been what I am: and that I mighthave been better off, if I hadn't been a fool and fallen into thehands of you and others who were knaves. Do you deny that?''Gently,' reasoned Tim; 'you said you wouldn't.''I said I wouldn't!' cried Newman, thrusting him aside, and movinghis hand as Tim moved, so as to keep him at arm's length; 'don'ttell me! Here, you Nickleby! Don't pretend not to mind me; it won'tdo; I know better. You were talking of tampering, just now. Whotampered with Yorkshire schoolmasters, and, while they sent thedrudge out, that he shouldn't overhear, forgot that such greatcaution might render him suspicious, and that he might watch hismaster out at nights, and might set other eyes to watch theschoolmaster? Who tampered with a selfish father, urging him tosell his daughter to old Arthur Gride, and tampered with Gride too,and did so in the little office, with a closet in the room?'Ralph had put a great command upon himself; but he could not havesuppressed a slight start, if he had been certain to be beheaded forit next moment.'Aha!' cried Newman, 'you mind me now, do you? What first set thisfag to be jealous of his master's actions, and to feel that, if hehadn't crossed him when he might, he would have been as bad as he,or worse? That master's cruel treatment of his own flesh and blood,and vile designs upon a young girl who interested even his broken-down, drunken, miserable hack, and made him linger in his service,in the hope of doing her some good (as, thank God, he had doneothers once or twice before), when he would, otherwise, haverelieved his feelings by pummelling his master soundly, and thengoing to the Devil. He would--mark that; and mark this--that I'mhere now, because these gentlemen thought it best. When I soughtthem out (as I did; there was no tampering with me), I told them Iwanted help to find you out, to trace you down, to go through withwhat I had begun, to help the right; and that when I had done it,I'd burst into your room and tell you all, face to face, man to man,and like a man. Now I've said my say, and let anybody else saytheirs, and fire away!'With this concluding sentiment, Newman Noggs, who had beenperpetually sitting down and getting up again all through hisspeech, which he had delivered in a series of jerks; and who was,from the violent exercise and the excitement combined, in a state ofmost intense and fiery heat; became, without passing through anyintermediate stage, stiff, upright, and motionless, and so remained,staring at Ralph Nickleby with all his might and main.Ralph looked at him for an instant, and for an instant only; then,waved his hand, and beating the ground with his foot, said in achoking voice:'Go on, gentlemen, go on! I'm patient, you see. There's law to behad, there's law. I shall call you to an account for this. Takecare what you say; I shall make you prove it.''The proof is ready,' returned brother Charles, 'quite ready to ourhands. The man Snawley, last night, made a confession.''Who may "the man Snawley" be,' returned Ralph, 'and what may his"confession" have to do with my affairs?'To this inquiry, put with a dogged inflexibility of manner, the oldgentleman returned no answer, but went on to say, that to show himhow much they were in earnest, it would be necessary to tell him,not only what accusations were made against him, but what proof ofthem they had, and how that proof had been acquired. This layingopen of the whole question brought up brother Ned, Tim Linkinwater,and Newman Noggs, all three at once; who, after a vast deal oftalking together, and a scene of great confusion, laid before Ralph,in distinct terms, the following statement.That, Newman, having been solemnly assured by one not thenproducible that Smike was not the son of Snawley, and this personhaving offered to make oath to that effect, if necessary, they hadby this communication been first led to doubt the claim set up,which they would otherwise have seen no reason to dispute, supportedas it was by evidence which they had no power of disproving. That,once suspecting the existence of a conspiracy, they had nodifficulty in tracing back its origin to the malice of Ralph, andthe vindictiveness and avarice of Squeers. That, suspicion andproof being two very different things, they had been advised by alawyer, eminent for his sagacity and acuteness in such practice, toresist the proceedings taken on the other side for the recovery ofthe youth as slowly and artfully as possible, and meanwhile to besetSnawley (with whom it was clear the main falsehood must rest); tolead him, if possible, into contradictory and conflictingstatements; to harass him by all available means; and so to practiseon his fears, and regard for his own safety, as to induce him todivulge the whole scheme, and to give up his employer and whomsoeverelse he could implicate. That, all this had been skilfully done;but that Snawley, who was well practised in the arts of low cunningand intrigue, had successfully baffled all their attempts, until anunexpected circumstance had brought him, last night, upon his knees.It thus arose. When Newman Noggs reported that Squeers was again intown, and that an interview of such secrecy had taken place betweenhim and Ralph that he had been sent out of the house, plainly lesthe should overhear a word, a watch was set upon the schoolmaster, inthe hope that something might be discovered which would throw somelight upon the suspected plot. It being found, however, that heheld no further communication with Ralph, nor any with Snawley, andlived quite alone, they were completely at fault; the watch waswithdrawn, and they would have observed his motions no longer, if ithad not happened that, one night, Newman stumbled unobserved on himand Ralph in the street together. Following them, he discovered, tohis surprise, that they repaired to various low lodging-houses, andtaverns kept by broken gamblers, to more than one of whom Ralph wasknown, and that they were in pursuit--so he found by inquiries whenthey had left--of an old woman, whose description exactly talliedwith that of deaf Mrs Sliderskew. Affairs now appearing to assume amore serious complexion, the watch was renewed with increasedvigilance; an officer was procured, who took up his abode in thesame tavern with Squeers: and by him and Frank Cheeryble thefootsteps of the unconscious schoolmaster were dogged, until he wassafely housed in the lodging at Lambeth. Mr Squeers having shiftedhis lodging, the officer shifted his, and lying concealed in thesame street, and, indeed, in the opposite house, soon found that MrSqueers and Mrs Sliderskew were in constant communication.In this state of things, Arthur Gride was appealed to. The robbery,partly owing to the inquisitiveness of the neighbours, and partly tohis own grief and rage, had, long ago, become known; but hepositively refused to give his sanction or yield any assistance tothe old woman's capture, and was seized with such a panic at theidea of being called upon to give evidence against her, that he shuthimself up close in his house, and refused to hold communicationwith anybody. Upon this, the pursuers took counsel together, and,coming so near the truth as to arrive at the conclusion that Grideand Ralph, with Squeers for their instrument, were negotiating forthe recovery of some of the stolen papers which would not bear thelight, and might possibly explain the hints relative to Madelinewhich Newman had overheard, resolved that Mrs Sliderskew should betaken into custody before she had parted with them: and Squeers too,if anything suspicious could be attached to him. Accordingly, asearch-warrant being procured, and all prepared, Mr Squeers's windowwas watched, until his light was put out, and the time arrived when,as had been previously ascertained, he usually visited MrsSliderskew. This done, Frank Cheeryble and Newman stole upstairs tolisten to their discourse, and to give the signal to the officer atthe most favourable time. At what an opportune moment they arrived,how they listened, and what they heard, is already known to thereader. Mr Squeers, still half stunned, was hurried off with astolen deed in his possession, and Mrs Sliderskew was apprehendedlikewise. The information being promptly carried to Snawley thatSqueers was in custody--he was not told for what--that worthy, firstextorting a promise that he should be kept harmless, declared thewhole tale concerning Smike to be a fiction and forgery, andimplicated Ralph Nickleby to the fullest extent. As to Mr Squeers,he had, that morning, undergone a private examination before amagistrate; and, being unable to account satisfactorily for hispossession of the deed or his companionship with Mrs Sliderskew, hadbeen, with her, remanded for a week.All these discoveries were now related to Ralph, circumstantially,and in detail. Whatever impression they secretly produced, hesuffered no sign of emotion to escape him, but sat perfectly still,not raising his frowning eyes from the ground, and covering hismouth with his hand. When the narrative was concluded; he raisedhis head hastily, as if about to speak, but on brother Charlesresuming, fell into his old attitude again.'I told you this morning,' said the old gentleman, laying his handupon his brother's shoulder, 'that I came to you in mercy. How faryou may be implicated in this last transaction, or how far theperson who is now in custody may criminate you, you best know. But,justice must take its course against the parties implicated in theplot against this poor, unoffending, injured lad. It is not in mypower, or in the power of my brother Ned, to save you from theconsequences. The utmost we can do is, to warn you in time, and togive you an opportunity of escaping them. We would not have an oldman like you disgraced and punished by your near relation; nor wouldwe have him forget, like you, all ties of blood and nature. Weentreat you--brother Ned, you join me, I know, in this entreaty, andso, Tim Linkinwater, do you, although you pretend to be an obstinatedog, sir, and sit there frowning as if you didn't--we entreat you toretire from London, to take shelter in some place where you will besafe from the consequences of these wicked designs, and where youmay have time, sir, to atone for them, and to become a better man.''And do you think,' returned Ralph, rising, 'and do you think, youwill so easily crush me? Do you think that a hundred well-arrangedplans, or a hundred suborned witnesses, or a hundred false curs atmy heels, or a hundred canting speeches full of oily words, willmove me? I thank you for disclosing your schemes, which I am nowprepared for. You have not the man to deal with that you think; tryme! and remember that I spit upon your fair words and falsedealings, and dare you--provoke you--taunt you--to do to me the veryworst you can!'Thus they parted, for that time; but the worst had not come yet.