are out on the marshes, and we are going to catch them.”
At last, Joe’s job was finished. Joe got on his coat, and offered us to go down with the soldiers. Mr. Pumblechook and Mr. Hubble declined; but Mr. Wopsle was ready to go with Joe. Joe wanted to take me. What will say Mrs. Joe? Mrs. Joe said,
“If you bring the boy back with his head crushed, don’t ask me to put it together again.”
Soon we were all out in the raw air. We were steadily moving towards the marshs, and I whispered to Joe,
“I hope, Joe, we shan’t find them.”
Joe whispered to me,
“I hope too, Pip.”
The weather was cold and threatening, the way was dreary. The people had good fires and were celebtaring the day. A few faces looked after us from the windows, but none came out. We passed the finger-post, and held straight on to the churchyard. There we were stopped by a signal from the sergeant’s hand. Two or three of his men dispersed themselves among the graves, and examined the porch. They did not find anything. Joe took me on his back.
I looked all about for any sign of the convicts. Finally, I saw them both. The soldiers stopped.
After that they began to run. After a while, we heard a voice “Murder!” and another voice, “Convicts! Runaways! Guard! This way!” The soldiers ran like deer, and Joe too.
“Here are both men!” panted the sergeant. “Surrender, you two!”
Water was splashing, and mud was flying.
“Mind that!” said my convict. He wiped blood from his face with his ragged sleeves: “I took him! I give him up to you! Mind that!”
The other was bruised and torn all over.
“Take notice, guard – he tried to murder me,” were his first words.
“Tried to murder him?” said my convict, disdainfully. “Try, and not do it? I took him; that’s all, I dragged him here. He’s a gentleman, if you please, this villain. Now, the Hulks has got its gentleman again, through me!”
The other one still gasped,
“He tried – he tried to – murder me.”
“Look here!” said my convict to the sergeant. “I tried to kill him? No, no, no.”
The other fugitive, who was evidently in extreme horror of his companion, repeated,
“He tried to murder me!”
“He lies!” said my convict, with fierce energy. “He’s a liar, and he’ll die a liar. Look at his face. Do you see him? Do you see what a villain he is?”
“Enough,” said the sergeant. “Light those torches. All right. March.”
My convict never looked at me, except that once. He turned to the sergeant, and remarked,
“I wish to say something.”
“You can say what you like,” returned the sergeant, “but you’ll have opportunity enough to say about it, and hear about it, you know.”
“A man can’t starve; at least I can’t. I took some food, at the village over there[15].”
“You mean stole,” said the sergeant.
“And I’ll tell you where from. From the blacksmith’s.”
“Halloa!” said the sergeant, staring at Joe.
“Halloa, Pip!” said Joe, staring at me.
“It was some food – that’s what it was – and liquor, and a pie.”
“Do you miss a pie, blacksmith?” asked the sergeant, confidentially.
“My wife does, at the very moment when you came in. Don’t you know, Pip?”
“So,” said my convict, without the least glance at me, “so you’re the blacksmith, are you? I’m sorry. I ate your pie.”
“You’re welcome,” returned Joe, “we don’t know what you did before, but you must not starve, poor miserable fellow. Right, Pip?”
Something clicked in the man’s throat, and he turned his back.
I did not want to lose Joe’s confidence. I was staring drearily at my companion and friend. I was too cowardly to tell Joe the truth. As I was sleepy, Joe took me on his back again and carried me home.
Chapter 6
When I was old enough, I was to be apprenticed to Joe.
“Didn’t you ever go to school, Joe, when you were as little as me?” asked I one day.
“No, Pip.”
“Why didn’t you ever go to school?”
“Well, Pip,” said Joe; “I’ll tell you. My father, Pip, liked to drink much. So my mother and me we ran away from my father several times. Sometimes my mother said, ‘Joe, you must go to school, child.’ And she put me to school. But my father couldn’t live without us. So he came with a crowd and took us from the houses where we were. He took us home and hammered us.”
“Certainly, poor Joe!”
“My father said I must work. So I went to work. In time I was able to keep him, and I kept him till he went off.”
Joe’s blue eyes turned a little watery. He rubbed first one of them, and then the other, in a most uncongenial and uncomfortable manner, with the round knob on the top of the poker.
“I met your sister,” said Joe, “she was living here alone. Now, Pip,”Joe looked firmly at me; “your sister is very nice and clever.”
“I am glad you think so, Joe.”
“Yes,” returned Joe. “That’s it. You’re right, old chap! When I met your sister, she was bringing you. Very kind of her too, all the folks said, and I said, along with all the folks. When your sister was willing and ready to come to the forge, I said to her, ‘And bring the poor little child. God bless the poor little child,’ I said to your sister, ‘there’s room for him at the forge!’”
I hugged Joe round the neck. He dropped the poker to hug me and said,
“We are the best friends; aren’t we, Pip? Don’t cry, old chap!”
When this little interruption was over, Joe resumed:
“Well, you see; here we are! Your sister a master-mind.[16] A master-mind. However, here comes the mare!”
Mrs. Joe and Uncle Pumblechook were soon near. Then we were soon all in the kitchen.
“Now,” said Mrs. Joe, with haste and excitement, “if this boy isn’t grateful this night, he never will be! Miss Havisham wants this boy to go and play in her house. And of course
over there – вон там
Your sister a master-mind. – Твоя сестра – ума палата.
