Chapter 37

Deeming Sunday the best day for taking Mr. Wemmick’s Walworth sentiments,
I devoted the next ensuing Sunday afternoon to a pilgrimage to the Castle. On
arriving before the battlements, I found the Union Jack flying and the
drawbridge up; but undeterred by this show of defiance and resistance, I rang at
the gate, and was admitted in a most pacific manner by the Aged.

"My son, sir," said the old man, after securing the drawbridge, "rather had it
in his mind that you might happen to drop in, and he left word that he would
soon be home from his afternoon’s walk. He is very regular in his walks, is my
son. Very regular in everything, is my son."

I nodded at the old gentleman as Wemmick himself might have nodded, and we went
in and sat down by the fireside.

"You made acquaintance with my son, sir," said the old man, in his chirping way,
while he warmed his hands at the blaze, "at his office, I expect?" I nodded.
"Hah! I have heerd that my son is a wonderful hand at his business, sir?" I
nodded hard. "Yes; so they tell me. His business is the Law?" I nodded harder.
"Which makes it more surprising in my son," said the old man, "for he was not
brought up to the Law, but to the Wine-Coopering."

Curious to know how the old gentleman stood informed concerning the reputation
of Mr. Jaggers, I roared that name at him. He threw me into the greatest
confusion by laughing heartily and replying in a very sprightly manner, "No, to
be sure; you’re right." And to this hour I have not the faintest notion what he
meant, or what joke he thought I had made.

As I could not sit there nodding at him perpetually, without making some other
attempt to interest him, I shouted at inquiry whether his own calling in life
had been "the Wine-Coopering." By dint of straining that term out of myself
several times and tapping the old gentleman on the chest to associate it with
him, I at last succeeded in making my meaning understood.

"No," said the old gentleman; "the warehousing, the warehousing. First, over
yonder;" he appeared to mean up the chimney, but I believe he intended to refer
me to Liverpool; "and then in the City of London here. However, having an
infirmity—for I am hard of hearing, sir—"

I expressed in pantomime the greatest astonishment.

"—Yes, hard of hearing; having that infirmity coming upon me, my son he went
into the Law, and he took charge of me, and he by little and little made out
this elegant and beautiful property. But returning to what you said, you know,"
pursued the old man, again laughing heartily, "what I say is, No to be sure;
you’re right."

I was modestly wondering whether my utmost ingenuity would have enabled me to
say anything that would have amused him half as much as this imaginary
pleasantry, when I was startled by a sudden click in the wall on one side of the
chimney, and the ghostly tumbling open of a little wooden flap with "JOHN" upon
it. The old man, following my eyes, cried with great triumph, "My son’s come
home!" and we both went out to the drawbridge.

It was worth any money to see Wemmick waving a salute to me from the other side
of the moat, when we might have shaken hands across it with the greatest ease.
The Aged was so delighted to work the drawbridge, that I made no offer to assist
him, but stood quiet until Wemmick had come across, and had presented me to Miss
Skiffins; a lady by whom he was accompanied.

Miss Skiffins was of a wooden appearance, and was, like her escort, in the
post-office branch of the service. She might have been some two or three years
younger than Wemmick, and I judged her to stand possessed of portable property.
The cut of her dress from the waist upward, both before and behind, made her
figure very like a boy’s kite; and I might have pronounced her gown a little too
decidedly orange, and her gloves a little too intensely green. But she seemed to
be a good sort of fellow, and showed a high regard for the Aged. I was not long
in discovering that she was a frequent visitor at the Castle; for, on our going
in, and my complimenting Wemmick on his ingenious contrivance for announcing
himself to the Aged, he begged me to give my attention for a moment to the other
side of the chimney, and disappeared. Presently another click came, and another
little door tumbled open with "Miss Skiffins" on it; then Miss Skiffins shut up
and John tumbled open; then Miss Skiffins and John both tumbled open together,
and finally shut up together. On Wemmick’s return from working these mechanical
appliances, I expressed the great admiration with which I regarded them, and he
said, "Well, you know, they’re both pleasant and useful to the Aged. And by
George, sir, it’s a thing worth mentioning, that of all the people who come to
this gate, the secret of those pulls is only known to the Aged, Miss Skiffins,
and me!"

"And Mr. Wemmick made them," added Miss Skiffins, "with his own hands out of his
own head."

While Miss Skiffins was taking off her bonnet (she retained her green gloves
during the evening as an outward and visible sign that there was company),
Wemmick invited me to take a walk with him round the property, and see how the
island looked in wintertime. Thinking that he did this to give me an opportunity
of taking his Walworth sentiments, I seized the opportunity as soon as we were
out of the Castle.

Having thought of the matter with care, I approached my subject as if I had
never hinted at it before. I informed Wemmick that I was anxious in behalf of
Herbert Pocket, and I told him how we had first met, and how we had fought. I
glanced at Herbert’s home, and at his character, and at his having no means but
such as he was dependent on his father for; those, uncertain and unpunctual. I
alluded to the advantages I had derived in my first rawness and ignorance from
his society, and I confessed that I feared I had but ill repaid them, and that
he might have done better without me and my expectations. Keeping Miss Havisham
in the background at a great distance, I still hinted at the possibility of my
having competed with him in his prospects, and at the certainty of his
possessing a generous soul, and being far above any mean distrusts,
retaliations, or designs. For all these reasons (I told Wemmick), and because he
was my young companion and friend, and I had a great affection for him, I wished
my own good fortune to reflect some rays upon him, and therefore I sought advice
from Wemmick’s experience and knowledge of men and affairs, how I could best try
with my resources to help Herbert to some present income,—say of a hundred a
year, to keep him in good hope and heart,—and gradually to buy him on to some
small partnership. I begged Wemmick, in conclusion, to understand that my help
must always be rendered without Herbert’s knowledge or suspicion, and that there
was no one else in the world with whom I could advise. I wound up by laying my
hand upon his shoulder, and saying, "I can’t help confiding in you, though I
know it must be troublesome to you; but that is your fault, in having ever
brought me here."

Wemmick was silent for a little while, and then said with a kind of start, "Well
you know, Mr. Pip, I must tell you one thing. This is devilish good of you."

"Say you’ll help me to be good then," said I.

"Ecod," replied Wemmick, shaking his head, "that’s not my trade."

"Nor is this your trading-place," said I.

"You are right," he returned. "You hit the nail on the head. Mr. Pip, I’ll put
on my considering-cap, and I think all you want to do may be done by degrees.
Skiffins (that’s her brother) is an accountant and agent. I’ll look him up and
go to work for you."

"I thank you ten thousand times."

"On the contrary," said he, "I thank you, for though we are strictly in our
private and personal capacity, still it may be mentioned that there are Newgate
cobwebs about, and it brushes them away."

After a little further conversation to the same effect, we returned into the
Castle where we found Miss Skiffins preparing tea. The responsible duty of
making the toast was delegated to the Aged, and that excellent old gentleman was
so intent upon it that he seemed to me in some danger of melting his eyes. It
was no nominal meal that we were going to make, but a vigorous reality. The Aged
prepared such a hay-stack of buttered toast, that I could scarcely see him over
it as it simmered on an iron stand hooked on to the top-bar; while Miss Skiffins
brewed such a jorum of tea, that the pig in the back premises became strongly
excited, and repeatedly expressed his desire to participate in the
entertainment.

The flag had been struck, and the gun had been fired, at the right moment of
time, and I felt as snugly cut off from the rest of Walworth as if the moat were
thirty feet wide by as many deep. Nothing disturbed the tranquillity of the
Castle, but the occasional tumbling open of John and Miss Skiffins: which little
doors were a prey to some spasmodic infirmity that made me sympathetically
uncomfortable until I got used to it. I inferred from the methodical nature of
Miss Skiffins’s arrangements that she made tea there every Sunday night; and I
rather suspected that a classic brooch she wore, representing the profile of an
undesirable female with a very straight nose and a very new moon, was a piece of
portable property that had been given her by Wemmick.

We ate the whole of the toast, and drank tea in proportion, and it was
delightful to see how warm and greasy we all got after it. The Aged especially,
might have passed for some clean old chief of a savage tribe, just oiled. After
a short pause of repose, Miss Skiffins—in the absence of the little servant who,
it seemed, retired to the bosom of her family on Sunday afternoons—washed up the
tea-things, in a trifling lady-like amateur manner that compromised none of us.
Then, she put on her gloves again, and we drew round the fire, and Wemmick said,
"Now, Aged Parent, tip us the paper."

Wemmick explained to me while the Aged got his spectacles out, that this was
according to custom, and that it gave the old gentleman infinite satisfaction to
read the news aloud. "I won’t offer an apology," said Wemmick, "for he isn’t
capable of many pleasures—are you, Aged P.?"

"All right, John, all right," returned the old man, seeing himself spoken to.

"Only tip him a nod every now and then when he looks off his paper," said
Wemmick, "and he’ll be as happy as a king. We are all attention, Aged One."

"All right, John, all right!" returned the cheerful old man, so busy and so
pleased, that it really was quite charming.

The Aged’s reading reminded me of the classes at Mr. Wopsle’s great-aunt’s, with
the pleasanter peculiarity that it seemed to come through a keyhole. As he
wanted the candles close to him, and as he was always on the verge of putting
either his head or the newspaper into them, he required as much watching as a
powder-mill. But Wemmick was equally untiring and gentle in his vigilance, and
the Aged read on, quite unconscious of his many rescues. Whenever he looked at
us, we all expressed the greatest interest and amazement, and nodded until he
resumed again.

As Wemmick and Miss Skiffins sat side by side, and as I sat in a shadowy corner,
I observed a slow and gradual elongation of Mr. Wemmick’s mouth, powerfully
suggestive of his slowly and gradually stealing his arm round Miss Skiffins’s
waist. In course of time I saw his hand appear on the other side of Miss
Skiffins; but at that moment Miss Skiffins neatly stopped him with the green
glove, unwound his arm again as if it were an article of dress, and with the
greatest deliberation laid it on the table before her. Miss Skiffins’s composure
while she did this was one of the most remarkable sights I have ever seen, and
if I could have thought the act consistent with abstraction of mind, I should
have deemed that Miss Skiffins performed it mechanically.

By and by, I noticed Wemmick’s arm beginning to disappear again, and gradually
fading out of view. Shortly afterwards, his mouth began to widen again. After an
interval of suspense on my part that was quite enthralling and almost painful, I
saw his hand appear on the other side of Miss Skiffins. Instantly, Miss Skiffins
stopped it with the neatness of a placid boxer, took off that girdle or cestus
as before, and laid it on the table. Taking the table to represent the path of
virtue, I am justified in stating that during the whole time of the Aged’s
reading, Wemmick’s arm was straying from the path of virtue and being recalled
to it by Miss Skiffins.

At last, the Aged read himself into a light slumber. This was the time for
Wemmick to produce a little kettle, a tray of glasses, and a black bottle with a
porcelain-topped cork, representing some clerical dignitary of a rubicund and
social aspect. With the aid of these appliances we all had something warm to
drink, including the Aged, who was soon awake again. Miss Skiffins mixed, and I
observed that she and Wemmick drank out of one glass. Of course I knew better
than to offer to see Miss Skiffins home, and under the circumstances I thought I
had best go first; which I did, taking a cordial leave of the Aged, and having
passed a pleasant evening.

Before a week was out, I received a note from Wemmick, dated Walworth, stating
that he hoped he had made some advance in that matter appertaining to our
private and personal capacities, and that he would be glad if I could come and
see him again upon it. So, I went out to Walworth again, and yet again, and yet
again, and I saw him by appointment in the City several times, but never held
any communication with him on the subject in or near Little Britain. The upshot
was, that we found a worthy young merchant or shipping-broker, not long
established in business, who wanted intelligent help, and who wanted capital,
and who in due course of time and receipt would want a partner. Between him and
me, secret articles were signed of which Herbert was the subject, and I paid him
half of my five hundred pounds down, and engaged for sundry other payments:
some, to fall due at certain dates out of my income: some, contingent on my
coming into my property. Miss Skiffins’s brother conducted the negotiation.
Wemmick pervaded it throughout, but never appeared in it.

The whole business was so cleverly managed, that Herbert had not the least
suspicion of my hand being in it. I never shall forget the radiant face with
which he came home one afternoon, and told me, as a mighty piece of news, of his
having fallen in with one Clarriker (the young merchant’s name), and of
Clarriker’s having shown an extraordinary inclination towards him, and of his
belief that the opening had come at last. Day by day as his hopes grew stronger
and his face brighter, he must have thought me a more and more affectionate
friend, for I had the greatest difficulty in restraining my tears of triumph
when I saw him so happy. At length, the thing being done, and he having that day
entered Clarriker’s House, and he having talked to me for a whole evening in a
flush of pleasure and success, I did really cry in good earnest when I went to
bed, to think that my expectations had done some good to somebody.

A great event in my life, the turning point of my life, now opens on my view.
But, before I proceed to narrate it, and before I pass on to all the changes it
involved, I must give one chapter to Estella. It is not much to give to the
theme that so long filled my heart.