Great Expectations by Charles Dickens (speed reading book TXT) 📕

but he’d got craft, and he’d got learning, and he overmatched me

five hundred times told and no mercy. My Missis as I had the hard

time wi’—Stop though! I ain’t brought her in—”

He looked about him in a confused way, as if he had lost his place

in the book of his remembrance; and he turned his face to the fire,

and spread his hands broader on his knees, and lifted them off and

put them on again.

“There ain’t no need to go into it,” he said, looking round once

more. “The time wi’ Compeyson was a’most as hard a time as ever I

had; that said, all’s said. Did I tell you as I was tried, alone,

for misdemeanor, while with Compeyson?”

I answered, No.

“Well!” he said, “I was, and got convicted. As to took up on

suspicion, that was twice or three times in the four or five year

that it lasted; but evidence was wanting. At last, me and Compeyson

was both committed for felony,—on a charge of putting stolen notes

in circulation,—and there was other charges behind. Compeyson says

to me, ‘Separate defences, no communication,’ and that was all. And

I was so miserable poor, that I sold all the clothes I had, except

what hung on my back, afore I could get Jaggers.

“When we was put in the dock, I noticed first of all what a

gentleman Compeyson looked, wi’ his curly hair and his black

clothes and his white pocket-handkercher, and what a common sort of

a wretch I looked. When the prosecution opened and the evidence was

put short, aforehand, I noticed how heavy it all bore on me, and

how light on him. When the evidence was giv in the box, I noticed

how it was always me that had come for’ard, and could be swore to,

how it was always me that the money had been paid to, how it was

always me that had seemed to work the thing and get the profit.

But when the defence come on, then I see the plan plainer; for,

says the counsellor for Compeyson, ‘My lord and gentlemen, here you

has afore you, side by side, two persons as your eyes can separate

wide; one, the younger, well brought up, who will be spoke to as

such; one, the elder, ill brought up, who will be spoke to as such;

one, the younger, seldom if ever seen in these here transactions,

and only suspected; t’other, the elder, always seen in ‘em and

always wi’his guilt brought home. Can you doubt, if there is but

one in it, which is the one, and, if there is two in it, which is

much the worst one?’ And such-like. And when it come to character,

warn’t it Compeyson as had been to the school, and warn’t it his

schoolfellows as was in this position and in that, and warn’t it

him as had been know’d by witnesses in such clubs and societies,

and nowt to his disadvantage? And warn’t it me as had been tried

afore, and as had been know’d up hill and down dale in Bridewells

and Lock-Ups! And when it come to speech-making, warn’t it

Compeyson as could speak to ‘em wi’ his face dropping every now and

then into his white pocket-handkercher,—ah! and wi’ verses in his

speech, too,—and warn’t it me as could only say, ‘Gentlemen, this

man at my side is a most precious rascal’? And when the verdict

come, warn’t it Compeyson as was recommended to mercy on account of

good character and bad company, and giving up all the information

he could agen me, and warn’t it me as got never a word but Guilty?

And when I says to Compeyson, ‘Once out of this court, I’ll smash

that face of yourn!’ ain’t it Compeyson as prays the Judge to be

protected, and gets two turnkeys stood betwixt us? And when we’re

sentenced, ain’t it him as gets seven year, and me fourteen, and

ain’t it him as the Judge is sorry for, because he might a done so

well, and ain’t it me as the Judge perceives to be a old offender

of wiolent passion, likely to come to worse?”

He had worked himself into a state of great excitement, but he

checked it, took two or three short breaths, swallowed as often,

and stretching out his hand towards me said, in a reassuring

manner, “I ain’t a going to be low, dear boy!”

He had so heated himself that he took out his handkerchief and

wiped his face and head and neck and hands, before he could go on.

“I had said to Compeyson that I’d smash that face of his, and I

swore Lord smash mine! to do it. We was in the same prison-ship,

but I couldn’t get at him for long, though I tried. At last I come

behind him and hit him on the cheek to turn him round and get a

smashing one at him, when I was seen and seized. The black-hole of

that ship warn’t a strong one, to a judge of black-holes that could

swim and dive. I escaped to the shore, and I was a hiding among the

graves there, envying them as was in ‘em and all over, when I first

see my boy!”

He regarded me with a look of affection that made him almost

abhorrent to me again, though I had felt great pity for him.

“By my boy, I was giv to understand as Compeyson was out on them

marshes too. Upon my soul, I half believe he escaped in his terror,

to get quit of me, not knowing it was me as had got ashore. I

hunted him down. I smashed his face. ‘And now,’ says I ‘as the

worst thing I can do, caring nothing for myself, I’ll drag you

back.’ And I’d have swum off, towing him by the hair, if it had

come to that, and I’d a got him aboard without the soldiers.

“Of course he’d much the best of it to the last,—his character was

so good. He had escaped when he was made half wild by me and my

murderous intentions; and his punishment was light. I was put in

irons, brought to trial again, and sent for life. I didn’t stop for

life, dear boy and Pip’s comrade, being here.”

“He wiped himself again, as he had done before, and then slowly

took his tangle of tobacco from his pocket, and plucked his pipe

from his button-hole, and slowly filled it, and began to smoke.

“Is he dead?” I asked, after a silence.

“Is who dead, dear boy?”

“Compeyson.”

“He hopes I am, if he’s alive, you may be sure,” with a fierce

look. “I never heerd no more of him.”

Herbert had been writing with his pencil in the cover of a book. He

softly pushed the book over to me, as Provis stood smoking with his

eyes on the fire, and I read in it:—

“Young Havisham’s name was Arthur. Compeyson is the man who

professed to be Miss Havisham’s lover.”

I shut the book and nodded slightly to Herbert, and put the book

by; but we neither of us said anything, and both looked at Provis

as he stood smoking by the fire.