"Then let him come!"
"At any particular time, Miss Havisham?"
"There, there, I know nothing about time. Let him come soon, and come
alone with you!"
In consequence, two days later, Joe, arrayed in his Sunday clothes, set
out with me to visit Miss Havisham, and as he thought his court dress
necessary to the occasion, it was not for me to tell him that he looked
far better in his working dress. We arrived at Miss Havisham's, and as
usual Estella opened the door, and led the way to Miss Havisham's room.
She immediately addressed Joe, asking him questions about himself and
about having me for apprentice and finally she asked to see my indentures,
which Joe produced; I am afraid I was ashamed of the dear good fellow--I
know I was when I saw Estella's eyes were laughing mischievously.
Miss Havisham then took a little bag from the table and handed it to me.
"Pip has earned a premium here," she said, "and here it is. There are five
and twenty guineas in the bag. Give it to your Master, Pip."
I handed it to Joe, who said a few embarrassed words of gratitude to Miss
Havisham.
"Good-bye, Pip," she said. "Let them out, Estella."
"Am I to come again, Miss Havisham?" I asked.
"No--Gargery is your master now. Gargery! One word!" Joe stepped back and
she added, "The boy has been a good boy here, and that is his reward. Of
course, as an honest man, you will expect no other."
Then we went down, and in a moment we were outside of the gate, and it was
locked and Estella was gone. When we stood in the daylight alone, Joe
backed up against a wall, breathless with amazement, and repeated at
intervals, "Astonishing! Pip, I do assure you this is as-ton-ishing!" Then
we walked away, back to Mr. Pumblechook's, where we found my sister, and
told her the great news of my earnings, and she was as much pleased as was
possible for her to be.
It is a miserable thing to feel ashamed of home, I assure you. To me home
had never been a very pleasant place on account of sister's temper, but
Joe had sanctified it, and I believed in it. I had believed in the Best
Parlour, as a most elegant place, I had believed in the Front Door as a
mysterious portal of the Temple of State, I had believed in the kitchen as
a chaste though not magnificent apartment; I had believed in the forge, as
the glowing road to manhood and independence. Within a single year all
this was changed. Now it was all coarse and common to me, and I would not
have had Miss Havisham and Estella see it for the world. Once it had
seemed to me that as Joe's apprentice I should be distinguished and happy.
Now I regret to say that I was as dejected and miserable as was possible
to be, and in my ungracious breast there was a shame of all that
surrounded me.
Toward the end of my first year as Joe's apprentice I suggested that I go
and call on Miss Havisham. He thought well of it, and so I went.
Everything was unchanged, except that a strange young woman came to the
door, and I found that Estella was abroad being educated, and Miss
Havisham was alone.
"Well," said she. "I hope you want nothing; you'll get nothing!"
"No, indeed," I replied, "I only want you to know that I am doing very
well and am always much obliged to you." We had little other conversation,
and soon she dismissed me, and as the gate closed on me, I felt more than
ever dissatisfied with my home, and my trade, and with everything!
When I reached home, some one hastened out to tell me that the house had
been entered during my absence, and that my sister had been attacked and
badly injured. Nothing had been taken from the house, but my sister had
been struck a terrible blow, and lay very ill in bed for months, and when
at last she could come down stairs again her mind was never quite clear,
and she was unable to speak. So it was necessary to have Biddy come and
take up the house-keeping, and meanwhile I kept up the routine of my
apprenticeship-life, varied only by the arrival of my several birthdays,
on each of which I paid another visit to Miss Havisham.
On a Saturday night, in the fourth year of my apprenticeship to Joe, he
and I sat by a fire at the inn--the Three Jolly Bargemen, with a group of
men. One of them was a strange gentleman who entered into the discussion
on hand with zest, and then, rising, stood before the fire. "From
information I have received," said he, looking round, "I have reason to
believe there is a blacksmith among you, by name Joseph Gargery. Which is
the man?"
"Here is the man," said Joe.
The gentleman beckoned him out of his place, and said: "You have an
apprentice called Pip. Is he here?"
To this I responded in the affirmative. The stranger did not recognise me,
but I recognised him as the gentleman I had met on the stairs on my second
visit to Miss Havisham. I had known him from the moment I had first been
confronted with his bushy eyebrows and black eyes.
"I wish to have a private conference with you both," he said. "Perhaps we
had better go to your house to have it."
So, in a wondering silence, we walked away with him towards home, and when
we got there Joe let us in by the front door, and our conference was held
in the state parlour.
The stranger proceeded to tell us that he was a lawyer, Jaggers by name,
and that he was the bearer of an offer to Joe, which was, that he should
cancel my indentures, at my request, and for my good. He went on to say
that his communication was to the effect that I had Great Expectations.
Joe and I gasped and looked at one another as Mr. Jaggers continued:
"I am instructed to tell Pip that he will come into a handsome property,
and that it is the desire of the present owner of that property that he be
at once removed from here, and be brought up as befits a young gentleman
of Great Expectations."
My dream was out! My wild fancy was realised; Miss Havisham was going to
make my fortune on a grand scale.
I listened breathlessly while Mr. Jaggers added that my benefactor wished
me to keep always the name of Pip, and also that the name of the
benefactor was to remain a secret until such time as the person chose to
reveal it. After stating these conditions, Mr. Jaggers paused, and asked
if I had any objections to complying with them, to which I stammered that
I had not, and Mr. Jaggers continued that he had been made my guardian,
that he would provide me with a sum of money ample for my education and
maintenance, and that he should advise my residing in London, and having
as tutor one Matthew Pocket, whom I had heard mentioned by Miss Havisham.
"First," continued Mr. Jaggers, "you should have some new clothes. You
will want some money. I will leave you twenty guineas, and will expect you
in London on this day week."
He produced a purse and counted out the money, then eyeing Joe, he said,
"Well, Joe Gargery, you look dumbfounded?"
"I am!" said Joe, with decision.
"Well," said Mr. Jaggers, "what if I were to make you a present as
compensation?"
"For what?" said Joe.
"For the loss of the boy's services."
Joe laid a hand on my shoulder with the touch of a woman, saying:
"Pip is that hearty welcome to go free with his services, to honour and
fortune, as no words can tell him! But if you think as money can make
compensation to me for the loss of the little child what come to the
forge,--and ever the best of friends---"
O dear, good Joe, whom I was so ready to leave, and so unthankful to--I
see you again to-day, and in a very different light. I feel the loving
tremble of your hand upon my arm as solemnly to-day as if it had been the
rustle of an angel's wing. But, at the time, I was lost in the mazes of my
good fortune, and thought of nothing else, and as Joe remained firm on the
money question, Mr. Jaggers rose to go, giving me a few last instructions
for reaching London.
Then he left and we vacated the state parlour at once for the kitchen,
where my sister and Biddy were sitting. I told the news of my great
expectations and received congratulations, which had in them a touch of
sadness which I rather resented.
That night Joe stayed out on the doorstep, smoking a pipe much later than
usual, which seemed to hint to me that he wanted comforting, for some
reason, but in my arrogant happiness, I could not understand his feelings.
During the next week I was very busy making my preparations to leave. With
some assistance I selected a suit, and went also to the hatter's and
boot-maker's and hosier's, and also engaged my place on the Saturday
morning coach. Then I went to make my farewells to Uncle Pumblechook, whom
I found awaiting me with pride and impatience, for the news had reached
him. He shook hands with me at least a hundred times, and blessed me, and
stood waving his hand at me until I passed out of sight. It was now
Friday, and I dressed up in my new clothes to make a farewell visit to
Miss Havisham. I felt awkward and self-conscious, and rang the bell
constrainedly on account of the still long fingers of my new gloves. Miss
Havisham received me as usual, and I explained to her that I was to start
for London on the morrow, and that I had come into a fortune, for which I
was more grateful than I could express. She asked me a number of
questions, and then said:
"Well, you have a promising career before you. Be good, deserve it, and
abide by Mr. Jagger's instructions. Good-bye, Pip." She stretched out her
hand, and I knelt down and kissed it,--and so I left my fairy god-mother,
with both her hands on her crutch-stick, standing in the middle of the
dimly-lighted room.
I little dreamed then that it was not to her that I owed my Great
Expectations, but to my older acquaintance, the convict, for whom I had
robbed my sister's larder long ago. But of this I little dreamed, and knew
nothing until years later.
And now the six days had gone, and to-morrow looked me in the face. As my
departure drew near I became more appreciative of the society of my
family. On this last evening I dressed myself in my new clothes for their
delight, and sat in my splendour until bedtime. We had a hot supper on the
occasion, and pretended to be in high spirits, although none of us were.
All night my broken sleep was filled with fantastic visions, and I arose
early and sat by my window, taking a last look at the familiar view. Then
came an early, hurried breakfast, and then I kissed my sister and Biddy,
and threw my arms around Joe's neck, took up my little portmanteau, and
walked out. Presently I heard a scuffle behind me, and there was Joe,
throwing an old shoe after me. I waved my hat, and dear old Joe waved his
arm over his head, crying huskily, "Hooroar!"
I walked away rapidly then, thinking it was not so hard to go, after all.
But then came a thought of the peaceful village where I had been so
care-free and innocent, and beyond was the great unknown world,--and in a
moment, I broke into tears, sobbing:
"Good-bye, oh my dear, dear friend!" I was better after that, more sorry,
more aware of my ingratitude to Joe, more gentle.
So subdued was I by my tears that when I was on the coach, I deliberated,
with an aching heart, whether I should not get down when we changed
horses, and walk back for one more evening at home and a better parting,
but while I was still deliberating, we went on, and changed again, and
then it was too late and too far for me to go back, and I must go on. And
the mists had all solemnly risen about me now, and the world lay spread
before me, and I must go on. And so my boyhood came to an end, and the
first stage of my Great Expectations was over.