Chapter 20

by Charles Dickens

　　Wherein Nicholas at length encounters his Uncle, to whom heexpresses his Sentiments with much Candour. His Resolution.Little Miss La Creevy trotted briskly through divers streets at thewest end of the town, early on Monday morning--the day after thedinner--charged with the important commission of acquainting MadameMantalini that Miss Nickleby was too unwell to attend that day, buthoped to be enabled to resume her duties on the morrow. And as MissLa Creevy walked along, revolving in her mind various genteel formsand elegant turns of expression, with a view to the selection of thevery best in which to couch her communication, she cogitated a gooddeal upon the probable causes of her young friend's indisposition.'I don't know what to make of it,' said Miss La Creevy. 'Her eyeswere decidedly red last night. She said she had a headache;headaches don't occasion red eyes. She must have been crying.'Arriving at this conclusion, which, indeed, she had established toher perfect satisfaction on the previous evening, Miss La Creevywent on to consider--as she had done nearly all night--what newcause of unhappiness her young friend could possibly have had.'I can't think of anything,' said the little portrait painter.'Nothing at all, unless it was the behaviour of that old bear.Cross to her, I suppose? Unpleasant brute!'Relieved by this expression of opinion, albeit it was vented uponempty air, Miss La Creevy trotted on to Madame Mantalini's; andbeing informed that the governing power was not yet out of bed,requested an interview with the second in command; whereupon MissKnag appeared.'So far as I am concerned,' said Miss Knag, when the message hadbeen delivered, with many ornaments of speech; 'I could spare MissNickleby for evermore.''Oh, indeed, ma'am!' rejoined Miss La Creevy, highly offended.'But, you see, you are not mistress of the business, and thereforeit's of no great consequence.''Very good, ma'am,' said Miss Knag. 'Have you any further commandsfor me?''No, I have not, ma'am,' rejoined Miss La Creevy.'Then good-morning, ma'am,' said Miss Knag.'Good-morning to you, ma'am; and many obligations for your extremepoliteness and good breeding,' rejoined Miss La Creevy.Thus terminating the interview, during which both ladies hadtrembled very much, and been marvellously polite--certainindications that they were within an inch of a very desperatequarrel--Miss La Creevy bounced out of the room, and into thestreet.'I wonder who that is,' said the queer little soul. 'A nice personto know, I should think! I wish I had the painting of her: I'D doher justice.' So, feeling quite satisfied that she had said a verycutting thing at Miss Knag's expense, Miss La Creevy had a heartylaugh, and went home to breakfast in great good humour.Here was one of the advantages of having lived alone so long! Thelittle bustling, active, cheerful creature existed entirely withinherself, talked to herself, made a confidante of herself, was assarcastic as she could be, on people who offended her, by herself;pleased herself, and did no harm. If she indulged in scandal,nobody's reputation suffered; and if she enjoyed a little bit ofrevenge, no living soul was one atom the worse. One of the many towhom, from straitened circumstances, a consequent inability to formthe associations they would wish, and a disinclination to mix withthe society they could obtain, London is as complete a solitude asthe plains of Syria, the humble artist had pursued her lonely, butcontented way for many years; and, until the peculiar misfortunes ofthe Nickleby family attracted her attention, had made no friends,though brimful of the friendliest feelings to all mankind. Thereare many warm hearts in the same solitary guise as poor little MissLa Creevy's.However, that's neither here nor there, just now. She went home tobreakfast, and had scarcely caught the full flavour of her first sipof tea, when the servant announced a gentleman, whereat Miss LaCreevy, at once imagining a new sitter transfixed by admiration atthe street-door case, was in unspeakable consternation at thepresence of the tea-things.'Here, take 'em away; run with 'em into the bedroom; anywhere,' saidMiss La Creevy. 'Dear, dear; to think that I should be late on thisparticular morning, of all others, after being ready for three weeksby half-past eight o'clock, and not a soul coming near the place!''Don't let me put you out of the way,' said a voice Miss La Creevyknew. 'I told the servant not to mention my name, because I wishedto surprise you.''Mr Nicholas!' cried Miss La Creevy, starting in great astonishment.'You have not forgotten me, I see,' replied Nicholas, extending hishand.'Why, I think I should even have known you if I had met you in thestreet,' said Miss La Creevy, with a smile. 'Hannah, another cupand saucer. Now, I'll tell you what, young man; I'll trouble younot to repeat the impertinence you were guilty of, on the morningyou went away.''You would not be very angry, would you?' asked Nicholas.'Wouldn't I!' said Miss La Creevy. 'You had better try; that'sall!'Nicholas, with becoming gallantry, immediately took Miss La Creevyat her word, who uttered a faint scream and slapped his face; but itwas not a very hard slap, and that's the truth.'I never saw such a rude creature!' exclaimed Miss La Creevy.'You told me to try,' said Nicholas.'Well; but I was speaking ironically,' rejoined Miss La Creevy.'Oh! that's another thing,' said Nicholas; 'you should have told methat, too.''I dare say you didn't know, indeed!' retorted Miss La Creevy.'But, now I look at you again, you seem thinner than when I saw youlast, and your face is haggard and pale. And how come you to haveleft Yorkshire?'She stopped here; for there was so much heart in her altered toneand manner, that Nicholas was quite moved.'I need look somewhat changed,' he said, after a short silence; 'forI have undergone some suffering, both of mind and body, since I leftLondon. I have been very poor, too, and have even suffered fromwant.''Good Heaven, Mr Nicholas!' exclaimed Miss La Creevy, 'what are youtelling me?''Nothing which need distress you quite so much,' answered Nicholas,with a more sprightly air; 'neither did I come here to bewail mylot, but on matter more to the purpose. I wish to meet my uncleface to face. I should tell you that first.''Then all I have to say about that is,' interposed Miss La Creevy,'that I don't envy you your taste; and that sitting in the same roomwith his very boots, would put me out of humour for a fortnight.''In the main,' said Nicholas, 'there may be no great difference ofopinion between you and me, so far; but you will understand, that Idesire to confront him, to justify myself, and to cast his duplicityand malice in his throat.''That's quite another matter,' rejoined Miss La Creevy. 'Heavenforgive me; but I shouldn't cry my eyes quite out of my head, ifthey choked him. Well?''To this end, I called upon him this morning,' said Nicholas. 'Heonly returned to town on Saturday, and I knew nothing of his arrivaluntil late last night.''And did you see him?' asked Miss La Creevy.'No,' replied Nicholas. 'He had gone out.''Hah!' said Miss La Creevy; 'on some kind, charitable business, Idare say.''I have reason to believe,' pursued Nicholas, 'from what has beentold me, by a friend of mine who is acquainted with his movements,that he intends seeing my mother and sister today, and giving themhis version of the occurrences that have befallen me. I will meethim there.''That's right,' said Miss La Creevy, rubbing her hands. 'And yet, Idon't know,' she added, 'there is much to be thought of--others tobe considered.''I have considered others,' rejoined Nicholas; 'but as honesty andhonour are both at issue, nothing shall deter me.''You should know best,' said Miss La Creevy.'In this case I hope so,' answered Nicholas. 'And all I want you todo for me, is, to prepare them for my coming. They think me a longway off, and if I went wholly unexpected, I should frighten them.If you can spare time to tell them that you have seen me, and that Ishall be with them in a quarter of an hour afterwards, you will dome a great service.''I wish I could do you, or any of you, a greater,' said Miss LaCreevy; 'but the power to serve, is as seldom joined with the will,as the will is with the power, I think.'Talking on very fast and very much, Miss La Creevy finished herbreakfast with great expedition, put away the tea-caddy and hid thekey under the fender, resumed her bonnet, and, taking Nicholas'sarm, sallied forth at once to the city. Nicholas left her near thedoor of his mother's house, and promised to return within a quarterof an hour.It so chanced that Ralph Nickleby, at length seeing fit, for his ownpurposes, to communicate the atrocities of which Nicholas had beenguilty, had (instead of first proceeding to another quarter of thetown on business, as Newman Noggs supposed he would) gone straightto his sister-in-law. Hence, when Miss La Creevy, admitted by agirl who was cleaning the house, made her way to the sitting-room,she found Mrs Nickleby and Kate in tears, and Ralph just concludinghis statement of his nephew's misdemeanours. Kate beckoned her notto retire, and Miss La Creevy took a seat in silence.'You are here already, are you, my gentleman?' thought the littlewoman. 'Then he shall announce himself, and see what effect thathas on you.''This is pretty,' said Ralph, folding up Miss Squeers's note; 'verypretty. I recommend him--against all my previous conviction, for Iknew he would never do any good--to a man with whom, behavinghimself properly, he might have remained, in comfort, for years.What is the result? Conduct for which he might hold up his hand atthe Old Bailey.''I never will believe it,' said Kate, indignantly; 'never. It issome base conspiracy, which carries its own falsehood with it.''My dear,' said Ralph, 'you wrong the worthy man. These are notinventions. The man is assaulted, your brother is not to be found;this boy, of whom they speak, goes with him--remember, remember.''It is impossible,' said Kate. 'Nicholas!--and a thief too! Mama,how can you sit and hear such statements?'Poor Mrs Nickleby, who had, at no time, been remarkable for thepossession of a very clear understanding, and who had been reducedby the late changes in her affairs to a most complicated state ofperplexity, made no other reply to this earnest remonstrance thanexclaiming from behind a mass of pocket-handkerchief, that she nevercould have believed it--thereby most ingeniously leaving her hearersto suppose that she did believe it.'It would be my duty, if he came in my way, to deliver him up tojustice,' said Ralph, 'my bounden duty; I should have no othercourse, as a man of the world and a man of business, to pursue. Andyet,' said Ralph, speaking in a very marked manner, and lookingfurtively, but fixedly, at Kate, 'and yet I would not. I wouldspare the feelings of his--of his sister. And his mother ofcourse,' added Ralph, as though by an afterthought, and with farless emphasis.Kate very well understood that this was held out as an additionalinducement to her to preserve the strictest silence regarding theevents of the preceding night. She looked involuntarily towardsRalph as he ceased to speak, but he had turned his eyes another way,and seemed for the moment quite unconscious of her presence.'Everything,' said Ralph, after a long silence, broken only by MrsNickleby's sobs, 'everything combines to prove the truth of thisletter, if indeed there were any possibility of disputing it. Doinnocent men steal away from the sight of honest folks, and skulk inhiding-places, like outlaws? Do innocent men inveigle namelessvagabonds, and prowl with them about the country as idle robbers do?Assault, riot, theft, what do you call these?''A lie!' cried a voice, as the door was dashed open, and Nicholascame into the room.In the first moment of surprise, and possibly of alarm, Ralph rosefrom his seat, and fell back a few paces, quite taken off his guardby this unexpected apparition. In another moment, he stood, fixedand immovable with folded arms, regarding his nephew with a scowl;while Kate and Miss La Creevy threw themselves between the two, toprevent the personal violence which the fierce excitement ofNicholas appeared to threaten.'Dear Nicholas,' cried his sister, clinging to him. 'Be calm,consider--''Consider, Kate!' cried Nicholas, clasping her hand so tight inthe tumult of his anger, that she could scarcely bear the pain.'When I consider all, and think of what has passed, I need bemade of iron to stand before him.''Or bronze,' said Ralph, quietly; 'there is not hardihood enough inflesh and blood to face it out.''Oh dear, dear!' cried Mrs Nickleby, 'that things should have cometo such a pass as this!''Who speaks in a tone, as if I had done wrong, and brought disgraceon them?' said Nicholas, looking round.'Your mother, sir,' replied Ralph, motioning towards her.'Whose ears have been poisoned by you,' said Nicholas; 'by you--who,under pretence of deserving the thanks she poured upon you, heapedevery insult, wrong, and indignity upon my head. You, who sent meto a den where sordid cruelty, worthy of yourself, runs wanton, andyouthful misery stalks precocious; where the lightness of childhoodshrinks into the heaviness of age, and its every promise blights,and withers as it grows. I call Heaven to witness,' said Nicholas,looking eagerly round, 'that I have seen all this, and that he knowsit.''Refute these calumnies,' said Kate, 'and be more patient, so thatyou may give them no advantage. Tell us what you really did, andshow that they are untrue.''Of what do they--or of what does he--accuse me?' said Nicholas.'First, of attacking your master, and being within an ace ofqualifying yourself to be tried for murder,' interposed Ralph. 'Ispeak plainly, young man, bluster as you will.''I interfered,' said Nicholas, 'to save a miserable creature fromthe vilest cruelty. In so doing, I inflicted such punishment upon awretch as he will not readily forget, though far less than hedeserved from me. If the same scene were renewed before me now, Iwould take the same part; but I would strike harder and heavier, andbrand him with such marks as he should carry to his grave, go to itwhen he would.''You hear?' said Ralph, turning to Mrs Nickleby. 'Penitence, this!''Oh dear me!' cried Mrs Nickleby, 'I don't know what to think, Ireally don't.''Do not speak just now, mama, I entreat you,' said Kate. 'DearNicholas, I only tell you, that you may know what wickedness canprompt, but they accuse you of--a ring is missing, and they dare tosay that--''The woman,' said Nicholas, haughtily, 'the wife of the fellow fromwhom these charges come, dropped--as I suppose--a worthless ringamong some clothes of mine, early in the morning on which I left thehouse. At least, I know that she was in the bedroom where they lay,struggling with an unhappy child, and that I found it when I openedmy bundle on the road. I returned it, at once, by coach, and theyhave it now.''I knew, I knew,' said Kate, looking towards her uncle. 'About thisboy, love, in whose company they say you left?''The boy, a silly, helpless creature, from brutality and hard usage,is with me now,' rejoined Nicholas.'You hear?' said Ralph, appealing to the mother again, 'everythingproved, even upon his own confession. Do you choose to restore thatboy, sir?''No, I do not,' replied Nicholas.'You do not?' sneered Ralph.'No,' repeated Nicholas, 'not to the man with whom I found him. Iwould that I knew on whom he has the claim of birth: I might wringsomething from his sense of shame, if he were dead to every tie ofnature.''Indeed!' said Ralph. 'Now, sir, will you hear a word or two fromme?''You can speak when and what you please,' replied Nicholas,embracing his sister. 'I take little heed of what you say orthreaten.''Mighty well, sir,' retorted Ralph; 'but perhaps it may concernothers, who may think it worth their while to listen, and considerwhat I tell them. I will address your mother, sir, who knows theworld.''Ah! and I only too dearly wish I didn't,' sobbed Mrs Nickleby.There really was no necessity for the good lady to be muchdistressed upon this particular head; the extent of her worldlyknowledge being, to say the least, very questionable; and so Ralphseemed to think, for he smiled as she spoke. He then glancedsteadily at her and Nicholas by turns, as he delivered himself inthese words:'Of what I have done, or what I meant to do, for you, ma'am, and myniece, I say not one syllable. I held out no promise, and leave youto judge for yourself. I hold out no threat now, but I say thatthis boy, headstrong, wilful and disorderly as he is, should nothave one penny of my money, or one crust of my bread, or one graspof my hand, to save him from the loftiest gallows in all Europe. Iwill not meet him, come where he comes, or hear his name. I willnot help him, or those who help him. With a full knowledge of whathe brought upon you by so doing, he has come back in his selfishsloth, to be an aggravation of your wants, and a burden upon hissister's scanty wages. I regret to leave you, and more to leaveher, now, but I will not encourage this compound of meanness andcruelty, and, as I will not ask you to renounce him, I see you nomore.'If Ralph had not known and felt his power in wounding those hehated, his glances at Nicholas would have shown it him, in all itsforce, as he proceeded in the above address. Innocent as the youngman was of all wrong, every artful insinuation stung, every well-considered sarcasm cut him to the quick; and when Ralph noted hispale face and quivering lip, he hugged himself to mark how well hehad chosen the taunts best calculated to strike deep into a youngand ardent spirit.'I can't help it,' cried Mrs Nickleby. 'I know you have been verygood to us, and meant to do a good deal for my dear daughter. I amquite sure of that; I know you did, and it was very kind of you,having her at your house and all--and of course it would have been agreat thing for her and for me too. But I can't, you know, brother-in-law, I can't renounce my own son, even if he has done all you sayhe has--it's not possible; I couldn't do it; so we must go to rackand ruin, Kate, my dear. I can bear it, I dare say.' Pouring forththese and a perfectly wonderful train of other disjointedexpressions of regret, which no mortal power but Mrs Nickleby'scould ever have strung together, that lady wrung her hands, and hertears fell faster.'Why do you say "if Nicholas has done what they say he has," mama?'asked Kate, with honest anger. 'You know he has not.''I don't know what to think, one way or other, my dear,' said MrsNickleby; 'Nicholas is so violent, and your uncle has so muchcomposure, that I can only hear what he says, and not what Nicholasdoes. Never mind, don't let us talk any more about it. We can goto the Workhouse, or the Refuge for the Destitute, or the MagdalenHospital, I dare say; and the sooner we go the better.' With thisextraordinary jumble of charitable institutions, Mrs Nickleby againgave way to her tears.'Stay,' said Nicholas, as Ralph turned to go. 'You need not leavethis place, sir, for it will be relieved of my presence in oneminute, and it will be long, very long, before I darken these doorsagain.''Nicholas,' cried Kate, throwing herself on her brother's shoulder,'do not say so. My dear brother, you will break my heart. Mama,speak to him. Do not mind her, Nicholas; she does not mean it, youshould know her better. Uncle, somebody, for Heaven's sake speak tohim.''I never meant, Kate,' said Nicholas, tenderly, 'I never meant tostay among you; think better of me than to suppose it possible. Imay turn my back on this town a few hours sooner than I intended,but what of that? We shall not forget each other apart, and betterdays will come when we shall part no more. Be a woman, Kate,' hewhispered, proudly, 'and do not make me one, while he looks on.''No, no, I will not,' said Kate, eagerly, 'but you will not leaveus. Oh! think of all the happy days we have had together, beforethese terrible misfortunes came upon us; of all the comfort andhappiness of home, and the trials we have to bear now; of our havingno protector under all the slights and wrongs that poverty so muchfavours, and you cannot leave us to bear them alone, without onehand to help us.''You will be helped when I am away,' replied Nicholas hurriedly. 'Iam no help to you, no protector; I should bring you nothing butsorrow, and want, and suffering. My own mother sees it, and herfondness and fears for you, point to the course that I should take.And so all good angels bless you, Kate, till I can carry you to somehome of mine, where we may revive the happiness denied to us now,and talk of these trials as of things gone by. Do not keep me here,but let me go at once. There. Dear girl--dear girl.'The grasp which had detained him relaxed, and Kate swooned in hisarms. Nicholas stooped over her for a few seconds, and placing hergently in a chair, confided her to their honest friend.'I need not entreat your sympathy,' he said, wringing her hand, 'forI know your nature. You will never forget them.'He stepped up to Ralph, who remained in the same attitude which hehad preserved throughout the interview, and moved not a finger.'Whatever step you take, sir,' he said, in a voice inaudible beyondthemselves, 'I shall keep a strict account of. I leave them to you,at your desire. There will be a day of reckoning sooner or later,and it will be a heavy one for you if they are wronged.'Ralph did not allow a muscle of his face to indicate that he heardone word of this parting address. He hardly knew that it wasconcluded, and Mrs Nickleby had scarcely made up her mind to detainher son by force if necessary, when Nicholas was gone.As he hurried through the streets to his obscure lodging, seeking tokeep pace, as it were, with the rapidity of the thoughts whichcrowded upon him, many doubts and hesitations arose in his mind, andalmost tempted him to return. But what would they gain by this?Supposing he were to put Ralph Nickleby at defiance, and were evenfortunate enough to obtain some small employment, his being withthem could only render their present condition worse, and mightgreatly impair their future prospects; for his mother had spoken ofsome new kindnesses towards Kate which she had not denied. 'No,'thought Nicholas, 'I have acted for the best.'But, before he had gone five hundred yards, some other and differentfeeling would come upon him, and then he would lag again, andpulling his hat over his eyes, give way to the melancholyreflections which pressed thickly upon him. To have committed nofault, and yet to be so entirely alone in the world; to be separatedfrom the only persons he loved, and to be proscribed like acriminal, when six months ago he had been surrounded by everycomfort, and looked up to, as the chief hope of his family--this washard to bear. He had not deserved it either. Well, there wascomfort in that; and poor Nicholas would brighten up again, to beagain depressed, as his quickly shifting thoughts presented everyvariety of light and shade before him.Undergoing these alternations of hope and misgiving, which no one,placed in a situation of ordinary trial, can fail to haveexperienced, Nicholas at length reached his poor room, where, nolonger borne up by the excitement which had hitherto sustained him,but depressed by the revulsion of feeling it left behind, he threwhimself on the bed, and turning his face to the wall, gave free ventto the emotions he had so long stifled.He had not heard anybody enter, and was unconscious of the presenceof Smike, until, happening to raise his head, he saw him, standingat the upper end of the room, looking wistfully towards him. Hewithdrew his eyes when he saw that he was observed, and affected tobe busied with some scanty preparations for dinner.'Well, Smike,' said Nicholas, as cheerfully as he could speak, 'letme hear what new acquaintances you have made this morning, or whatnew wonder you have found out, in the compass of this street and thenext one.''No,' said Smike, shaking his head mournfully; 'I must talk ofsomething else today.''Of what you like,' replied Nicholas, good-humouredly.'Of this,' said Smike. 'I know you are unhappy, and have got intogreat trouble by bringing me away. I ought to have known that, andstopped behind--I would, indeed, if I had thought it then. You--you--are not rich; you have not enough for yourself, and I shouldnot be here. You grow,' said the lad, laying his hand timidly onthat of Nicholas, 'you grow thinner every day; your cheek is paler,and your eye more sunk. Indeed I cannot bear to see you so, andthink how I am burdening you. I tried to go away today, but thethought of your kind face drew me back. I could not leave youwithout a word.' The poor fellow could say no more, for his eyesfilled with tears, and his voice was gone.'The word which separates us,' said Nicholas, grasping him heartilyby the shoulder, 'shall never be said by me, for you are my onlycomfort and stay. I would not lose you now, Smike, for all theworld could give. The thought of you has upheld me through all Ihave endured today, and shall, through fifty times such trouble.Give me your hand. My heart is linked to yours. We will journeyfrom this place together, before the week is out. What, if I amsteeped in poverty? You lighten it, and we will be poor together.'