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"
You
know
,
old
chap
,
"
said
Joe
,
looking
at
me
,
and
not
at
Mrs
.
Joe
,
with
his
bite
still
in
his
cheek
,
"
I
Bolted
,
myself
,
when
I
was
your
age
—
frequent
—
and
as
a
boy
I
’
ve
been
among
a
many
Bolters
;
but
I
never
see
your
Bolting
equal
yet
,
Pip
,
and
it
’
s
a
mercy
you
ain
’
t
Bolted
dead
.
"
My
sister
made
a
dive
at
me
,
and
fished
me
up
by
the
hair
,
saying
nothing
more
than
the
awful
words
,
"
You
come
along
and
be
dosed
.
"
Some
medical
beast
had
revived
Tar
-
water
in
those
days
as
a
fine
medicine
,
and
Mrs
.
Joe
always
kept
a
supply
of
it
in
the
cupboard
;
having
a
belief
in
its
virtues
correspondent
to
its
nastiness
.
At
the
best
of
times
,
so
much
of
this
elixir
was
administered
to
me
as
a
choice
restorative
,
that
I
was
conscious
of
going
about
,
smelling
like
a
new
fence
.
On
this
particular
evening
the
urgency
of
my
case
demanded
a
pint
of
this
mixture
,
which
was
poured
down
my
throat
,
for
my
greater
comfort
,
while
Mrs
.
Joe
held
my
head
under
her
arm
,
as
a
boot
would
be
held
in
a
bootjack
.
Joe
got
off
with
half
a
pint
;
but
was
made
to
swallow
that
(
much
to
his
disturbance
,
as
he
sat
slowly
munching
and
meditating
before
the
fire
)
,
"
because
he
had
had
a
turn
.
"
Judging
from
myself
,
I
should
say
he
certainly
had
a
turn
afterwards
,
if
he
had
had
none
before
.
Conscience
is
a
dreadful
thing
when
it
accuses
man
or
boy
;
but
when
,
in
the
case
of
a
boy
,
that
secret
burden
co
-
operates
with
another
secret
burden
down
the
leg
of
his
trousers
,
it
is
(
as
I
can
testify
)
a
great
punishment
.
The
guilty
knowledge
that
I
was
going
to
rob
Mrs
.
Joe
—
I
never
thought
I
was
going
to
rob
Joe
,
for
I
never
thought
of
any
of
the
housekeeping
property
as
his
—
united
to
the
necessity
of
always
keeping
one
hand
on
my
bread
and
butter
as
I
sat
,
or
when
I
was
ordered
about
the
kitchen
on
any
small
errand
,
almost
drove
me
out
of
my
mind
.
Then
,
as
the
marsh
winds
made
the
fire
glow
and
flare
,
I
thought
I
heard
the
voice
outside
,
of
the
man
with
the
iron
on
his
leg
who
had
sworn
me
to
secrecy
,
declaring
that
he
couldn
’
t
and
wouldn
’
t
starve
until
to
-
morrow
,
but
must
be
fed
now
.
At
other
times
,
I
thought
,
What
if
the
young
man
who
was
with
so
much
difficulty
restrained
from
imbruing
his
hands
in
me
should
yield
to
a
constitutional
impatience
,
or
should
mistake
the
time
,
and
should
think
himself
accredited
to
my
heart
and
liver
to
-
night
,
instead
of
to
-
morrow
!
If
ever
anybody
’
s
hair
stood
on
end
with
terror
,
mine
must
have
done
so
then
.
But
,
perhaps
,
nobody
’
s
ever
did
?
It
was
Christmas
Eve
,
and
I
had
to
stir
the
pudding
for
next
day
,
with
a
copper
-
stick
,
from
seven
to
eight
by
the
Dutch
clock
.
I
tried
it
with
the
load
upon
my
leg
(
and
that
made
me
think
afresh
of
the
man
with
the
load
on
his
leg
)
,
and
found
the
tendency
of
exercise
to
bring
the
bread
and
butter
out
at
my
ankle
,
quite
unmanageable
.
Happily
I
slipped
away
,
and
deposited
that
part
of
my
conscience
in
my
garret
bedroom
.
"
Hark
!
"
said
I
,
when
I
had
done
my
stirring
,
and
was
taking
a
final
warm
in
the
chimney
corner
before
being
sent
up
to
bed
;
"
was
that
great
guns
,
Joe
?
"
"
Ah
!
"
said
Joe
.
"
There
’
s
another
conwict
off
.
"
"
What
does
that
mean
,
Joe
?
"
said
I
.
