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<h2> Chapter XXIV </h2>
<p>After two or three days, when I had established myself in my room and had
gone backwards and forwards to London several times, and had ordered all I
wanted of my tradesmen, Mr. Pocket and I had a long talk together. He knew
more of my intended career than I knew myself, for he referred to his
having been told by Mr. Jaggers that I was not designed for any
profession, and that I should be well enough educated for my destiny if I
could "hold my own" with the average of young men in prosperous
circumstances. I acquiesced, of course, knowing nothing to the contrary.</p>
<p>He advised my attending certain places in London, for the acquisition of
such mere rudiments as I wanted, and my investing him with the functions
of explainer and director of all my studies. He hoped that with
intelligent assistance I should meet with little to discourage me, and
should soon be able to dispense with any aid but his. Through his way of
saying this, and much more to similar purpose, he placed himself on
confidential terms with me in an admirable manner; and I may state at once
that he was always so zealous and honorable in fulfilling his compact with
me, that he made me zealous and honorable in fulfilling mine with him. If
he had shown indifference as a master, I have no doubt I should have
returned the compliment as a pupil; he gave me no such excuse, and each of
us did the other justice. Nor did I ever regard him as having anything
ludicrous about him—or anything but what was serious, honest, and
good—in his tutor communication with me.</p>
<p>When these points were settled, and so far carried out as that I had begun
to work in earnest, it occurred to me that if I could retain my bedroom in
Barnard's Inn, my life would be agreeably varied, while my manners would
be none the worse for Herbert's society. Mr. Pocket did not object to this
arrangement, but urged that before any step could possibly be taken in it,
it must be submitted to my guardian. I felt that this delicacy arose out
of the consideration that the plan would save Herbert some expense, so I
went off to Little Britain and imparted my wish to Mr. Jaggers.</p>
<p>"If I could buy the furniture now hired for me," said I, "and one or two
other little things, I should be quite at home there."</p>
<p>"Go it!" said Mr. Jaggers, with a short laugh. "I told you you'd get on.
Well! How much do you want?"</p>
<p>I said I didn't know how much.</p>
<p>"Come!" retorted Mr. Jaggers. "How much? Fifty pounds?"</p>
<p>"O, not nearly so much."</p>
<p>"Five pounds?" said Mr. Jaggers.</p>
<p>This was such a great fall, that I said in discomfiture, "O, more than
that."</p>
<p>"More than that, eh!" retorted Mr. Jaggers, lying in wait for me, with his
hands in his pockets, his head on one side, and his eyes on the wall
behind me; "how much more?"</p>
<p>"It is so difficult to fix a sum," said I, hesitating.</p>
<p>"Come!" said Mr. Jaggers. "Let's get at it. Twice five; will that do?
Three times five; will that do? Four times five; will that do?"</p>
<p>I said I thought that would do handsomely.</p>
<p>"Four times five will do handsomely, will it?" said Mr. Jaggers, knitting
his brows. "Now, what do you make of four times five?"</p>
<p>"What do I make of it?"</p>
<p>"Ah!" said Mr. Jaggers; "how much?"</p>
<p>"I suppose you make it twenty pounds," said I, smiling.</p>
<p>"Never mind what I make it, my friend," observed Mr. Jaggers, with a
knowing and contradictory toss of his head. "I want to know what you make
it."</p>
<p>"Twenty pounds, of course."</p>
<p>"Wemmick!" said Mr. Jaggers, opening his office door. "Take Mr. Pip's
written order, and pay him twenty pounds."</p>
<p>This strongly marked way of doing business made a strongly marked
impression on me, and that not of an agreeable kind. Mr. Jaggers never
laughed; but he wore great bright creaking boots, and, in poising himself
on these boots, with his large head bent down and his eyebrows joined
together, awaiting an answer, he sometimes caused the boots to creak, as
if they laughed in a dry and suspicious way. As he happened to go out now,
and as Wemmick was brisk and talkative, I said to Wemmick that I hardly
knew what to make of Mr. Jaggers's manner.</p>
<p>"Tell him that, and he'll take it as a compliment," answered Wemmick; "he
don't mean that you should know what to make of it.—Oh!" for I
looked surprised, "it's not personal; it's professional: only
professional."</p>
<p>Wemmick was at his desk, lunching—and crunching—on a dry hard
biscuit; pieces of which he threw from time to time into his slit of a
mouth, as if he were posting them.</p>
<p>"Always seems to me," said Wemmick, "as if he had set a man-trap and was
watching it. Suddenly-click—you're caught!"</p>
<p>Without remarking that man-traps were not among the amenities of life, I
said I supposed he was very skilful?</p>
<p>"Deep," said Wemmick, "as Australia." Pointing with his pen at the office
floor, to express that Australia was understood, for the purposes of the
figure, to be symmetrically on the opposite spot of the globe. "If there
was anything deeper," added Wemmick, bringing his pen to paper, "he'd be
it."</p>
<p>Then, I said I supposed he had a fine business, and Wemmick said,
"Ca-pi-tal!" Then I asked if there were many clerks? to which he replied,—</p>
<p>"We don't run much into clerks, because there's only one Jaggers, and
people won't have him at second hand. There are only four of us. Would you
like to see 'em? You are one of us, as I may say."</p>
<p>I accepted the offer. When Mr. Wemmick had put all the biscuit into the
post, and had paid me my money from a cash-box in a safe, the key of which
safe he kept somewhere down his back and produced from his coat-collar
like an iron-pigtail, we went up stairs. The house was dark and shabby,
and the greasy shoulders that had left their mark in Mr. Jaggers's room
seemed to have been shuffling up and down the staircase for years. In the
front first floor, a clerk who looked something between a publican and a
rat-catcher—a large pale, puffed, swollen man—was attentively
engaged with three or four people of shabby appearance, whom he treated as
unceremoniously as everybody seemed to be treated who contributed to Mr.
Jaggers's coffers. "Getting evidence together," said Mr. Wemmick, as we
came out, "for the Bailey." In the room over that, a little flabby terrier
of a clerk with dangling hair (his cropping seemed to have been forgotten
when he was a puppy) was similarly engaged with a man with weak eyes, whom
Mr. Wemmick presented to me as a smelter who kept his pot always boiling,
and who would melt me anything I pleased,—and who was in an
excessive white-perspiration, as if he had been trying his art on himself.
In a back room, a high-shouldered man with a face-ache tied up in dirty
flannel, who was dressed in old black clothes that bore the appearance of
having been waxed, was stooping over his work of making fair copies of the
notes of the other two gentlemen, for Mr. Jaggers's own use.</p>
<p>This was all the establishment. When we went down stairs again, Wemmick
led me into my guardian's room, and said, "This you've seen already."</p>
<p>"Pray," said I, as the two odious casts with the twitchy leer upon them
caught my sight again, "whose likenesses are those?"</p>
<p>"These?" said Wemmick, getting upon a chair, and blowing the dust off the
horrible heads before bringing them down. "These are two celebrated ones.
Famous clients of ours that got us a world of credit. This chap (why you
must have come down in the night and been peeping into the inkstand, to
get this blot upon your eyebrow, you old rascal!) murdered his master,
and, considering that he wasn't brought up to evidence, didn't plan it
badly."</p>
<p>"Is it like him?" I asked, recoiling from the brute, as Wemmick spat upon
his eyebrow and gave it a rub with his sleeve.</p>
<p>"Like him? It's himself, you know. The cast was made in Newgate, directly
after he was taken down. You had a particular fancy for me, hadn't you,
Old Artful?" said Wemmick. He then explained this affectionate apostrophe,
by touching his brooch representing the lady and the weeping willow at the
tomb with the urn upon it, and saying, "Had it made for me, express!"</p>
<p>"Is the lady anybody?" said I.</p>
<p>"No," returned Wemmick. "Only his game. (You liked your bit of game,
didn't you?) No; deuce a bit of a lady in the case, Mr. Pip, except one,—and
she wasn't of this slender lady-like sort, and you wouldn't have caught
her looking after this urn, unless there was something to drink in it."
Wemmick's attention being thus directed to his brooch, he put down the
cast, and polished the brooch with his pocket-handkerchief.</p>
<p>"Did that other creature come to the same end?" I asked. "He has the same
look."</p>
<p>"You're right," said Wemmick; "it's the genuine look. Much as if one
nostril was caught up with a horse-hair and a little fish-hook. Yes, he
came to the same end; quite the natural end here, I assure you. He forged
wills, this blade did, if he didn't also put the supposed testators to
sleep too. You were a gentlemanly Cove, though" (Mr. Wemmick was again
apostrophizing), "and you said you could write Greek. Yah, Bounceable!
What a liar you were! I never met such a liar as you!" Before putting his
late friend on his shelf again, Wemmick touched the largest of his
mourning rings and said, "Sent out to buy it for me, only the day before."</p>
<p>While he was putting up the other cast and coming down from the chair, the
thought crossed my mind that all his personal jewelry was derived from
like sources. As he had shown no diffidence on the subject, I ventured on
the liberty of asking him the question, when he stood before me, dusting
his hands.</p>
<p>"O yes," he returned, "these are all gifts of that kind. One brings
another, you see; that's the way of it. I always take 'em. They're
curiosities. And they're property. They may not be worth much, but, after
all, they're property and portable. It don't signify to you with your
brilliant lookout, but as to myself, my guiding-star always is, 'Get hold
of portable property'."</p>
<p>When I had rendered homage to this light, he went on to say, in a friendly
manner:—</p>
<p>"If at any odd time when you have nothing better to do, you wouldn't mind
coming over to see me at Walworth, I could offer you a bed, and I should
consider it an honor. I have not much to show you; but such two or three
curiosities as I have got you might like to look over; and I am fond of a
bit of garden and a summer-house."</p>
<p>I said I should be delighted to accept his hospitality.</p>
<p>"Thankee," said he; "then we'll consider that it's to come off, when
convenient to you. Have you dined with Mr. Jaggers yet?"</p>
<p>"Not yet."</p>
<p>"Well," said Wemmick, "he'll give you wine, and good wine. I'll give you
punch, and not bad punch. And now I'll tell you something. When you go to
dine with Mr. Jaggers, look at his housekeeper."</p>
<p>"Shall I see something very uncommon?"</p>
<p>"Well," said Wemmick, "you'll see a wild beast tamed. Not so very
uncommon, you'll tell me. I reply, that depends on the original wildness
of the beast, and the amount of taming. It won't lower your opinion of Mr.
Jaggers's powers. Keep your eye on it."</p>
<p>I told him I would do so, with all the interest and curiosity that his
preparation awakened. As I was taking my departure, he asked me if I would
like to devote five minutes to seeing Mr. Jaggers "at it?"</p>
<p>For several reasons, and not least because I didn't clearly know what Mr.
Jaggers would be found to be "at," I replied in the affirmative. We dived
into the City, and came up in a crowded police-court, where a
blood-relation (in the murderous sense) of the deceased, with the fanciful
taste in brooches, was standing at the bar, uncomfortably chewing
something; while my guardian had a woman under examination or
cross-examination,—I don't know which,—and was striking her,
and the bench, and everybody present, with awe. If anybody, of whatsoever
degree, said a word that he didn't approve of, he instantly required to
have it "taken down." If anybody wouldn't make an admission, he said,
"I'll have it out of you!" and if anybody made an admission, he said, "Now
I have got you!" The magistrates shivered under a single bite of his
finger. Thieves and thief-takers hung in dread rapture on his words, and
shrank when a hair of his eyebrows turned in their direction. Which side
he was on I couldn't make out, for he seemed to me to be grinding the
whole place in a mill; I only know that when I stole out on tiptoe, he was
not on the side of the bench; for, he was making the legs of the old
gentleman who presided, quite convulsive under the table, by his
denunciations of his conduct as the representative of British law and
justice in that chair that day.</p>
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