GREAT
EXPECTATIONS
BY
CHARLES DICKENS
Chapter Forty-Two
"Dear boy and Pip's comrade. I am not a-going fur to tell
you my life, like a song or a story-book. But to give it you
short and handy, I'll put it at once into a mouthful of English.
In jail and out of jail, in jail and out of jail, in jail and out
of jail. There, you got it. That's my life pretty much, down to
such times as I got shipped off, arter Pip stood my friend.
"I've been done everything to, pretty well - except hanged.
I've been locked up, as much as a silver tea-kettle. I've been
carted here and carted there, and put out of this town and put
out of that town, and stuck in the stocks, and whipped and
worried and drove. I've no more notion where I was born, than you
have - if so much. I first become aware of myself, down in Essex,
a thieving turnips for my living. Summun had run away from me - a
man - a tinker - and he'd took the fire with him, and left me
wery cold.
"I know'd my name to be Magwitch, chrisen'd Abel. How did I
know it? Much as I know'd the birds' names in the hedges to be
chaffinch, sparrer, thrush. I might have thought it was all lies
together, only as the birds' names come out true, I supposed mine
did.
"So fur as I could find, there warn't a soul that see young
Abel Magwitch, with us little on him as in him, but wot caught
fright at him, and either drove him off, or took him up. I was
took up, took up, took up, to that extent that I reg'larly grow'd
up took up.
"This is the way it was, that when I was a ragged little
creetur as much to be pitied as ever I see (not that I looked in
the glass, for there warn't many insides of furnished houses
known to me), I got the name of being hardened. "This is a
terrible hardened one," they says to prison wisitors,
picking out me. "May be said to live in jails, this boy.
"Then they looked at me, and I looked at them, and they
measured my head, some on 'em - they had better a-measured my
stomach - and others on 'em giv me tracts what I couldn't read,
and made me speeches what I couldn't understand. They always went
on agen me about the Devil. But what the Devil was I to do? I
must put something into my stomach, mustn't I? - Howsomever, I'm
a getting low, and I know what's due. Dear boy and Pip's comrade,
don't you be afeerd of me being low.
"Tramping, begging, thieving, working sometimes when I could
- though that warn't as often as you may think, till you put the
question whether you would ha' been over-ready to give me work
yourselves - a bit of a poacher, a bit of a labourer, a bit of a
waggoner, a bit of a haymaker, a bit of a hawker, a bit of most
things that don't pay and lead to trouble, I got to be a man. A
deserting soldier in a Traveller's Rest, what lay hid up to the
chin under a lot of taturs, learnt me to read; and a travelling
Giant what signed his name at a penny a time learnt me to write.
I warn't locked up as often now as formerly, but I wore out my
good share of keymetal still.
"At Epsom races, a matter of over twenty years ago, I got
acquainted wi' a man whose skull I'd crack wi' this poker, like
the claw of a lobster, if I'd got it on this hob. His right name
was Compeyson; and that's the man, dear boy, what you see me
a-pounding in the ditch, according to what you truly told your
comrade arter I was gone last night.
"He set up fur a gentleman, this Compeyson, and he'd been to
a public boarding-school and had learning. He was a smooth one to
talk, and was a dab at the ways of gentlefolks. He was
good-looking too. It was the night afore the great race, when I
found him on the heath, in a booth that I know'd on. Him and some
more was a sitting among the tables when I went in, and the
landlord (which had a knowledge of me, and was a sporting one)
called him out, and said, 'I think this is a man that might suit
you' - meaning I was.
"Compeyson, he looks at me very noticing, and I look at him.
He has a watch and a chain and a ring and a breast-pin and a
handsome suit of clothes.
"'To judge from appearances, you're out of luck,' says
Compeyson to me.
"'Yes, master, and I've never been in it much.' (I had come
out of Kingston Jail last on a vagrancy committal. Not but what
it might have been for something else; but it warn't.)
"'Luck changes,' says Compeyson; 'perhaps yours is going to
change.'
"I says, 'I hope it may be so. There's room.'
"'What can you do?' says Compeyson.
"'Eat and drink,' I says; 'if you'll find the materials.'
"Compeyson laughed, looked at me again very noticing, giv me
five shillings, and appointed me for next night. Same place.
"I went to Compeyson next night, same place, and Compeyson
took me on to be his man and pardner. And what was Compeyson's
business in which we was to go pardners? Compeyson's business was
the swindling, handwriting forging, stolen bank-note passing, and
such-like. All sorts of traps as Compeyson could set with his
head, and keep his own legs out of and get the profits from and
let another man in for, was Compeyson's business. He'd no more
heart than a iron file, he was as cold as death, and he had the
head of the Devil afore mentioned.
"There was another in with Compeyson, as was called Arthur -
not as being so chrisen'd, but as a surname. He was in a Decline,
and was a shadow to look at. Him and Compeyson had been in a bad
thing with a rich lady some years afore, and they'd made a pot of
money by it; but Compeyson betted and gamed, and he'd have run
through the king's taxes. So, Arthur was a-dying, and a-dying
poor and with the horrors on him, and Compeyson's wife (which
Compeyson kicked mostly) was a-having pity on him when she could,
and Compeyson was a-having pity on nothing and nobody.
"I might a-took warning by Arthur, but I didn't; and I won't
pretend I was partick'ler - for where 'ud be the good on it, dear
boy and comrade? So I begun wi' Compeyson, and a poor tool I was
in his hands. Arthur lived at the top of Compeyson's house (over
nigh Brentford it was), and Compeyson kept a careful account agen
him for board and lodging, in case he should ever get better to
work it out. But Arthur soon settled the account. The second or
third time as ever I see him, he come a-tearing down into
Compeyson's parlour late at night, in only a flannel gown, with
his hair all in a sweat, and he says to Compeyson's wife, 'Sally,
she really is upstairs alonger me, now, and I can't get rid of
her. She's all in white,' he says, 'wi' white flowers in her
hair, and she's awful mad, and she's got a shroud hanging over
her arm, and she says she'll put it on me at five in the
morning.'
"Says Compeyson: 'Why, you fool, don't you know she's got a
living body? And how should she be up there, without coming
through the door, or in at the window, and up the stairs?'
"'I don't know how she's there,' says Arthur, shivering
dreadful with the horrors, 'but she's standing in the corner at
the foot of the bed, awful mad. And over where her heart's brook
- you broke it! - there's drops of blood.'
"Compeyson spoke hardy, but he was always a coward. 'Go up
alonger this drivelling sick man,' he says to his wife, 'and
Magwitch, lend her a hand, will you?' But he never come nigh
himself.
"Compeyson's wife and me took him up to bed agen, and he
raved most dreadful. 'Why look at her!' he cries out. 'She's
a-shaking the shroud at me! Don't you see her? Look at her eyes!
Ain't it awful to see her so mad?' Next, he cries, 'She'll put it
on me, and then I'm done for! Take it away from her, take it
away!' And then he catched hold of us, and kep on a-talking to
her, and answering of her, till I half believed I see her myself.
"Compeyson's wife, being used to him, giv him some liquor to
get the horrors off, and by-and-by he quieted. 'Oh, she's gone!
Has her keeper been for her?' he says. 'Yes,' says Compeyson's
wife. 'Did you tell him to lock her and bar her in?' 'Yes.' 'And
to take that ugly thing away from her?' 'Yes, yes, all right.'
'You're a good creetur,' he says, 'don't leave me, whatever you
do, and thank you!'
"He rested pretty quiet till it might want a few minutes of
five, and then he starts up with a scream, and screams out, 'Here
she is! She's got the shroud again. She's unfolding it. She's
coming out of the corner. She's coming to the bed. Hold me, both
on you - one of each side - don't let her touch me with it. Hah!
she missed me that time. Don't let her throw it over my
shoulders. Don't let her lift me up to get it round me. She's
lifting me up. Keep me down!' Then he lifted himself up hard, and
was dead.
"Compeyson took it easy as a good riddance for both sides.
Him and me was soon busy, and first he swore me (being ever
artful) on my own book - this here little black book, dear boy,
what I swore your comrade on.
"Not to go into the things that Compeyson planned, and I
done - which 'ud take a week - I'll simply say to you, dear boy,
and Pip's comrade, that that man got me into such nets as made me
his black slave. I was always in debt to him, always under his
thumb, always a-working, always a-getting into danger. He was
younger than me, 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 misdemeanour, 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.