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His
shorter
trust
,
however
,
terminating
at
the
cab
,
he
deposits
him
there
;
and
the
fair
Judy
takes
her
place
beside
him
,
and
the
chair
embellishes
the
roof
,
and
Mr
.
George
takes
the
vacant
place
upon
the
box
.
Mr
.
George
is
quite
confounded
by
the
spectacle
he
beholds
from
time
to
time
as
he
peeps
into
the
cab
through
the
window
behind
him
,
where
the
grim
Judy
is
always
motionless
,
and
the
old
gentleman
with
his
cap
over
one
eye
is
always
sliding
off
the
seat
into
the
straw
and
looking
upward
at
him
out
of
his
other
eye
with
a
helpless
expression
of
being
jolted
in
the
back
.
Mr
.
George
has
not
far
to
ride
with
folded
arms
upon
the
box
,
for
their
destination
is
Lincoln
’
s
Inn
Fields
.
When
the
driver
stops
his
horses
,
Mr
.
George
alights
,
and
looking
in
at
the
window
,
says
,
"
What
,
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
’
s
your
man
,
is
he
?
"
"
Yes
,
my
dear
friend
.
Do
you
know
him
,
Mr
.
George
?
"
"
Why
,
I
have
heard
of
him
—
seen
him
too
,
I
think
.
But
I
don
’
t
know
him
,
and
he
don
’
t
know
me
.
"
There
ensues
the
carrying
of
Mr
.
Smallweed
upstairs
,
which
is
done
to
perfection
with
the
trooper
’
s
help
.
He
is
borne
into
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
’
s
great
room
and
deposited
on
the
Turkey
rug
before
the
fire
.
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
is
not
within
at
the
present
moment
but
will
be
back
directly
.
The
occupant
of
the
pew
in
the
hall
,
having
said
thus
much
,
stirs
the
fire
and
leaves
the
triumvirate
to
warm
themselves
.
Mr
.
George
is
mightily
curious
in
respect
of
the
room
.
He
looks
up
at
the
painted
ceiling
,
looks
round
at
the
old
law
-
books
,
contemplates
the
portraits
of
the
great
clients
,
reads
aloud
the
names
on
the
boxes
.
"
’
Sir
Leicester
Dedlock
,
Baronet
,
’
"
Mr
.
George
reads
thoughtfully
.
"
Ha
!
’
Manor
of
Chesney
Wold
.
’
Humph
!
"
Mr
.
George
stands
looking
at
these
boxes
a
long
while
—
as
if
they
were
pictures
—
and
comes
back
to
the
fire
repeating
,
"
Sir
Leicester
Dedlock
,
Baronet
,
and
Manor
of
Chesney
Wold
,
hey
?
"
"
Worth
a
mint
of
money
,
Mr
.
George
!
"
whispers
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
rubbing
his
legs
.
"
Powerfully
rich
!
"
"
Who
do
you
mean
?
This
old
gentleman
,
or
the
Baronet
?
"
"
This
gentleman
,
this
gentleman
.
"
"
So
I
have
heard
;
and
knows
a
thing
or
two
,
I
’
ll
hold
a
wager
.
Not
bad
quarters
,
either
,
"
says
Mr
.
George
,
looking
round
again
.
"
See
the
strong
-
box
yonder
!
"
This
reply
is
cut
short
by
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
’
s
arrival
.
There
is
no
change
in
him
,
of
course
.
Rustily
drest
,
with
his
spectacles
in
his
hand
,
and
their
very
case
worn
threadbare
.
In
manner
,
close
and
dry
.
In
voice
,
husky
and
low
.
In
face
,
watchful
behind
a
blind
;
habitually
not
uncensorious
and
contemptuous
perhaps
.
The
peerage
may
have
warmer
worshippers
and
faithfuller
believers
than
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
,
after
all
,
if
everything
were
known
.
"
Good
morning
,
Mr
.
Smallweed
,
good
morning
!
"
he
says
as
he
comes
in
.
"
You
have
brought
the
sergeant
,
I
see
.
Sit
down
,
sergeant
.
"
As
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
takes
off
his
gloves
and
puts
them
in
his
hat
,
he
looks
with
half
-
closed
eyes
across
the
room
to
where
the
trooper
stands
and
says
within
himself
perchance
,
"
You
’
ll
do
,
my
friend
!
"
"
Sit
down
,
sergeant
,
"
he
repeats
as
he
comes
to
his
table
,
which
is
set
on
one
side
of
the
fire
,
and
takes
his
easy
-
chair
.
"
Cold
and
raw
this
morning
,
cold
and
raw
!
"
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
warms
before
the
bars
,
alternately
,
the
palms
and
knuckles
of
his
hands
and
looks
(
from
behind
that
blind
which
is
always
down
)
at
the
trio
sitting
in
a
little
semicircle
before
him
.
"
Now
,
I
can
feel
what
I
am
about
"
(
as
perhaps
he
can
in
two
senses
)
,
"
Mr
.
Smallweed
.
"
The
old
gentleman
is
newly
shaken
up
by
Judy
to
bear
his
part
in
the
conversation
.
"
You
have
brought
our
good
friend
the
sergeant
,
I
see
.
"
"
Yes
,
sir
,
"
returns
Mr
.
Smallweed
,
very
servile
to
the
lawyer
’
s
wealth
and
influence
.
"
And
what
does
the
sergeant
say
about
this
business
?
"
"
Mr
.
George
,
"
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
with
a
tremulous
wave
of
his
shrivelled
hand
,
"
this
is
the
gentleman
,
sir
.
"
Mr
.
George
salutes
the
gentleman
but
otherwise
sits
bolt
upright
and
profoundly
silent
—
very
forward
in
his
chair
,
as
if
the
full
complement
of
regulation
appendages
for
a
field
-
day
hung
about
him
.
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
proceeds
,
"
Well
,
George
—
I
believe
your
name
is
George
?
"
"
It
is
so
,
Sir
.
"
"
What
do
you
say
,
George
?
"
"
I
ask
your
pardon
,
sir
,
"
returns
the
trooper
,
"
but
I
should
wish
to
know
what
YOU
say
?
"
"
Do
you
mean
in
point
of
reward
?
"
"
I
mean
in
point
of
everything
,
sir
.
"
This
is
so
very
trying
to
Mr
.
Smallweed
’
s
temper
that
he
suddenly
breaks
out
with
"
You
’
re
a
brimstone
beast
!
"
and
as
suddenly
asks
pardon
of
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
,
excusing
himself
for
this
slip
of
the
tongue
by
saying
to
Judy
,
"
I
was
thinking
of
your
grandmother
,
my
dear
.
"
"
I
supposed
,
sergeant
,
"
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
resumes
as
he
leans
on
one
side
of
his
chair
and
crosses
his
legs
,
"
that
Mr
.
Smallweed
might
have
sufficiently
explained
the
matter
.
It
lies
in
the
smallest
compass
,
however
.
You
served
under
Captain
Hawdon
at
one
time
,
and
were
his
attendant
in
illness
,
and
rendered
him
many
little
services
,
and
were
rather
in
his
confidence
,
I
am
told
.
That
is
so
,
is
it
not
?
"
"
Yes
,
sir
,
that
is
so
,
"
says
Mr
.
George
with
military
brevity
.
"
Therefore
you
may
happen
to
have
in
your
possession
something
—
anything
,
no
matter
what
;
accounts
,
instructions
,
orders
,
a
letter
,
anything
—
in
Captain
Hawdon
’
s
writing
.
I
wish
to
compare
his
writing
with
some
that
I
have
.
If
you
can
give
me
the
opportunity
,
you
shall
be
rewarded
for
your
trouble
.
Three
,
four
,
five
,
guineas
,
you
would
consider
handsome
,
I
dare
say
.
"
"
Noble
,
my
dear
friend
!
"
cries
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
screwing
up
his
eyes
.
"
If
not
,
say
how
much
more
,
in
your
conscience
as
a
soldier
,
you
can
demand
.
There
is
no
need
for
you
to
part
with
the
writing
,
against
your
inclination
—
though
I
should
prefer
to
have
it
.
"
Mr
.
George
sits
squared
in
exactly
the
same
attitude
,
looks
at
the
painted
ceiling
,
and
says
never
a
word
.
The
irascible
Mr
.
Smallweed
scratches
the
air
.
"
The
question
is
,
"
says
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
in
his
methodical
,
subdued
,
uninterested
way
,
"
first
,
whether
you
have
any
of
Captain
Hawdon
’
s
writing
?
"
"
First
,
whether
I
have
any
of
Captain
Hawdon
’
s
writing
,
sir
,
"
repeats
Mr
.
George
.
"
Secondly
,
what
will
satisfy
you
for
the
trouble
of
producing
it
?
"
"
Secondly
,
what
will
satisfy
me
for
the
trouble
of
producing
it
,
sir
,
"
repeats
Mr
.
George
.
"
Thirdly
,
you
can
judge
for
yourself
whether
it
is
at
all
like
that
,
"
says
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
,
suddenly
handing
him
some
sheets
of
written
paper
tied
together
.
"
Whether
it
is
at
all
like
that
,
sir
.
Just
so
,
"
repeats
Mr
.
George
.
All
three
repetitions
Mr
.
George
pronounces
in
a
mechanical
manner
,
looking
straight
at
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
;
nor
does
he
so
much
as
glance
at
the
affidavit
in
Jarndyce
and
Jarndyce
,
that
has
been
given
to
him
for
his
inspection
(
though
he
still
holds
it
in
his
hand
)
,
but
continues
to
look
at
the
lawyer
with
an
air
of
troubled
meditation
.
"
Well
?
"
says
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
.
"
What
do
you
say
?
"
"
Well
,
sir
,
"
replies
Mr
.
George
,
rising
erect
and
looking
immense
,
"
I
would
rather
,
if
you
’
ll
excuse
me
,
have
nothing
to
do
with
this
.
"
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
,
outwardly
quite
undisturbed
,
demands
,
"
Why
not
?
"
"
Why
,
sir
,
"
returns
the
trooper
.
"
Except
on
military
compulsion
,
I
am
not
a
man
of
business
.
Among
civilians
I
am
what
they
call
in
Scotland
a
ne
’
er
-
do
-
weel
.
I
have
no
head
for
papers
,
sir
.
I
can
stand
any
fire
better
than
a
fire
of
cross
questions
.
I
mentioned
to
Mr
.
Smallweed
,
only
an
hour
or
so
ago
,
that
when
I
come
into
things
of
this
kind
I
feel
as
if
I
was
being
smothered
.
And
that
is
my
sensation
,
"
says
Mr
.
George
,
looking
round
upon
the
company
,
"
at
the
present
moment
.
"
With
that
,
he
takes
three
strides
forward
to
replace
the
papers
on
the
lawyer
’
s
table
and
three
strides
backward
to
resume
his
former
station
,
where
he
stands
perfectly
upright
,
now
looking
at
the
ground
and
now
at
the
painted
ceiling
,
with
his
hands
behind
him
as
if
to
prevent
himself
from
accepting
any
other
document
whatever
.
Under
this
provocation
,
Mr
.
Smallweed
’
s
favourite
adjective
of
disparagement
is
so
close
to
his
tongue
that
he
begins
the
words
"
my
dear
friend
"
with
the
monosyllable
"
brim
,
"
thus
converting
the
possessive
pronoun
into
brimmy
and
appearing
to
have
an
impediment
in
his
speech
.
Once
past
this
difficulty
,
however
,
he
exhorts
his
dear
friend
in
the
tenderest
manner
not
to
be
rash
,
but
to
do
what
so
eminent
a
gentleman
requires
,
and
to
do
it
with
a
good
grace
,
confident
that
it
must
be
unobjectionable
as
well
as
profitable
.
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
merely
utters
an
occasional
sentence
,
as
,
"
You
are
the
best
judge
of
your
own
interest
,
sergeant
.
"
"
Take
care
you
do
no
harm
by
this
.
"
"
Please
yourself
,
please
yourself
.
"
"
If
you
know
what
you
mean
,
that
’
s
quite
enough
.
"
These
he
utters
with
an
appearance
of
perfect
indifference
as
he
looks
over
the
papers
on
his
table
and
prepares
to
write
a
letter
.
Mr
.
George
looks
distrustfully
from
the
painted
ceiling
to
the
ground
,
from
the
ground
to
Mr
.
Smallweed
,
from
Mr
.
Smallweed
to
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
,
and
from
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
to
the
painted
ceiling
again
,
often
in
his
perplexity
changing
the
leg
on
which
he
rests
.
"
I
do
assure
you
,
sir
,
"
says
Mr
.
George
,
"
not
to
say
it
offensively
,
that
between
you
and
Mr
.
Smallweed
here
,
I
really
am
being
smothered
fifty
times
over
.
I
really
am
,
sir
.
I
am
not
a
match
for
you
gentlemen
.
Will
you
allow
me
to
ask
why
you
want
to
see
the
captain
’
s
hand
,
in
the
case
that
I
could
find
any
specimen
of
it
?
"
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
quietly
shakes
his
head
.
"
No
.
If
you
were
a
man
of
business
,
sergeant
,
you
would
not
need
to
be
informed
that
there
are
confidential
reasons
,
very
harmless
in
themselves
,
for
many
such
wants
in
the
profession
to
which
I
belong
.
But
if
you
are
afraid
of
doing
any
injury
to
Captain
Hawdon
,
you
may
set
your
mind
at
rest
about
that
.
"
"
Aye
!
He
is
dead
,
sir
.
"
"
IS
he
?
"
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
quietly
sits
down
to
write
.
"
Well
,
sir
,
"
says
the
trooper
,
looking
into
his
hat
after
another
disconcerted
pause
,
"
I
am
sorry
not
to
have
given
you
more
satisfaction
.
If
it
would
be
any
satisfaction
to
any
one
that
I
should
be
confirmed
in
my
judgment
that
I
would
rather
have
nothing
to
do
with
this
by
a
friend
of
mine
who
has
a
better
head
for
business
than
I
have
,
and
who
is
an
old
soldier
,
I
am
willing
to
consult
with
him
.
I
—
I
really
am
so
completely
smothered
myself
at
present
,
"
says
Mr
.
George
,
passing
his
hand
hopelessly
across
his
brow
,
"
that
I
don
’
t
know
but
what
it
might
be
a
satisfaction
to
me
.
"
Mr
.
Smallweed
,
hearing
that
this
authority
is
an
old
soldier
,
so
strongly
inculcates
the
expediency
of
the
trooper
’
s
taking
counsel
with
him
,
and
particularly
informing
him
of
its
being
a
question
of
five
guineas
or
more
,
that
Mr
.
George
engages
to
go
and
see
him
.
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
says
nothing
either
way
.
"
I
’
ll
consult
my
friend
,
then
,
by
your
leave
,
sir
,
"
says
the
trooper
,
"
and
I
’
ll
take
the
liberty
of
looking
in
again
with
the
final
answer
in
the
course
of
the
day
.
Mr
.
Smallweed
,
if
you
wish
to
be
carried
downstairs
—
"
"
In
a
moment
,
my
dear
friend
,
in
a
moment
.
Will
you
first
let
me
speak
half
a
word
with
this
gentleman
in
private
?
"
"
Certainly
,
sir
.
Don
’
t
hurry
yourself
on
my
account
.
"
The
trooper
retires
to
a
distant
part
of
the
room
and
resumes
his
curious
inspection
of
the
boxes
,
strong
and
otherwise
.
"
If
I
wasn
’
t
as
weak
as
a
brimstone
baby
,
sir
,
"
whispers
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
drawing
the
lawyer
down
to
his
level
by
the
lapel
of
his
coat
and
flashing
some
half
-
quenched
green
fire
out
of
his
angry
eyes
,
"
I
’
d
tear
the
writing
away
from
him
.
He
’
s
got
it
buttoned
in
his
breast
.
I
saw
him
put
it
there
.
Judy
saw
him
put
it
there
.
Speak
up
,
you
crabbed
image
for
the
sign
of
a
walking
-
stick
shop
,
and
say
you
saw
him
put
it
there
!
"
This
vehement
conjuration
the
old
gentleman
accompanies
with
such
a
thrust
at
his
granddaughter
that
it
is
too
much
for
his
strength
,
and
he
slips
away
out
of
his
chair
,
drawing
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
with
him
,
until
he
is
arrested
by
Judy
,
and
well
shaken
.
"
Violence
will
not
do
for
me
,
my
friend
,
"
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
then
remarks
coolly
.
"
No
,
no
,
I
know
,
I
know
,
sir
.
But
it
’
s
chafing
and
galling
—
it
’
s
—
it
’
s
worse
than
your
smattering
chattering
magpie
of
a
grandmother
,
"
to
the
imperturbable
Judy
,
who
only
looks
at
the
fire
,
"
to
know
he
has
got
what
’
s
wanted
and
won
’
t
give
it
up
.
He
,
not
to
give
it
up
!
HE
!
A
vagabond
!
But
never
mind
,
sir
,
never
mind
.
At
the
most
,
he
has
only
his
own
way
for
a
little
while
.
I
have
him
periodically
in
a
vice
.
I
’
ll
twist
him
,
sir
.
I
’
ll
screw
him
,
sir
.
If
he
won
’
t
do
it
with
a
good
grace
,
I
’
ll
make
him
do
it
with
a
bad
one
,
sir
!
Now
,
my
dear
Mr
.
George
,
"
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
winking
at
the
lawyer
hideously
as
he
releases
him
,
"
I
am
ready
for
your
kind
assistance
,
my
excellent
friend
!
"
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
,
with
some
shadowy
sign
of
amusement
manifesting
itself
through
his
self
-
possession
,
stands
on
the
hearth
-
rug
with
his
back
to
the
fire
,
watching
the
disappearance
of
Mr
.
Smallweed
and
acknowledging
the
trooper
’
s
parting
salute
with
one
slight
nod
.
It
is
more
difficult
to
get
rid
of
the
old
gentleman
,
Mr
.
George
finds
,
than
to
bear
a
hand
in
carrying
him
downstairs
,
for
when
he
is
replaced
in
his
conveyance
,
he
is
so
loquacious
on
the
subject
of
the
guineas
and
retains
such
an
affectionate
hold
of
his
button
—
having
,
in
truth
,
a
secret
longing
to
rip
his
coat
open
and
rob
him
—
that
some
degree
of
force
is
necessary
on
the
trooper
’
s
part
to
effect
a
separation
.
It
is
accomplished
at
last
,
and
he
proceeds
alone
in
quest
of
his
adviser
.
By
the
cloisterly
Temple
,
and
by
Whitefriars
(
there
,
not
without
a
glance
at
Hanging
-
Sword
Alley
,
which
would
seem
to
be
something
in
his
way
)
,
and
by
Blackfriars
Bridge
,
and
Blackfriars
Road
,
Mr
.
George
sedately
marches
to
a
street
of
little
shops
lying
somewhere
in
that
ganglion
of
roads
from
Kent
and
Surrey
,
and
of
streets
from
the
bridges
of
London
,
centring
in
the
far
-
famed
elephant
who
has
lost
his
castle
formed
of
a
thousand
four
-
horse
coaches
to
a
stronger
iron
monster
than
he
,
ready
to
chop
him
into
mince
-
meat
any
day
he
dares
.
To
one
of
the
little
shops
in
this
street
,
which
is
a
musician
’
s
shop
,
having
a
few
fiddles
in
the
window
,
and
some
Pan
’
s
pipes
and
a
tambourine
,
and
a
triangle
,
and
certain
elongated
scraps
of
music
,
Mr
.
George
directs
his
massive
tread
.
And
halting
at
a
few
paces
from
it
,
as
he
sees
a
soldierly
looking
woman
,
with
her
outer
skirts
tucked
up
,
come
forth
with
a
small
wooden
tub
,
and
in
that
tub
commence
a
-
whisking
and
a
-
splashing
on
the
margin
of
the
pavement
,
Mr
.
George
says
to
himself
,
"
She
’
s
as
usual
,
washing
greens
.
I
never
saw
her
,
except
upon
a
baggage
-
waggon
,
when
she
wasn
’
t
washing
greens
!
"
The
subject
of
this
reflection
is
at
all
events
so
occupied
in
washing
greens
at
present
that
she
remains
unsuspicious
of
Mr
.
George
’
s
approach
until
,
lifting
up
herself
and
her
tub
together
when
she
has
poured
the
water
off
into
the
gutter
,
she
finds
him
standing
near
her
.
Her
reception
of
him
is
not
flattering
.
