things should continue, and how much better would it be for the old gentleman to hand over a reasonable amount of tin, and make it all right and comfortable?”
“Why do you hunt and persecute me, God help me?” said the old man turning to his grandson. “Why do you bring your profligate companions here? How often am I to tell you that I am poor?”
“How often am I to tell you,” returned the other, looking coldly at him, “that I know better?”
“You have chosen your own path,” said the old man. “Follow it. Leave Nell and I to toil and work.”
“Nell will be a woman soon,” returned the other, “and she’ll forget her brother unless he shows himself sometimes.”
“But,” said the old man dropping his voice, “but we are poor; and what a life it is! Nothing goes well with it! Hope and patience, hope and patience!”
These words were uttered in too low a tone to reach the ears of the young men. Mr. Swiveller suggested the propriety of an immediate departure, when the door opened, and the child herself appeared.
3
The child was followed by an elderly man, quite a dwarf, though his head and face were large enough for the body of a giant. His black eyes were restless, sly, and cunning; his complexion was one of that kind which never looks clean. But the most terrible was his ghastly smile, which revealed the few discoloured fangs that were yet scattered in his mouth, and gave him the aspect of[13] a dog. His dress consisted of a large high-crowned hat, a worn dark suit, a pair of capacious shoes, and a dirty white neckerchief. His hair was black, cut short and straight upon his temples[14]. His hands were very dirty; his finger-nails were crooked, long, and yellow.
“Ah!” said the dwarf, “that should be your grandson, neighbour!”
“He is,” replied the old man.
“And that?” said the dwarf, pointing to Dick Swiveller.
“Some friend of his, as welcome here as he,” said the old man.
“Well, Nelly,” said the young fellow aloud. “Do they teach you to hate me, eh?”
“No, no. Oh, no!” cried the child.
“To love me, perhaps?” pursued her brother with a sneer.
“To do neither. They never speak to me about you. Indeed they never do. But I love you dearly, Fred,” said the child.
“No doubt!”
“I do indeed, and always will,” the child repeated with great emotion, “but if you would leave off vexing him and making him unhappy, then I could love you more.”
“I see!” said the young man: “There get you away now you have said your lesson.”
Fred remained silent, the girl entered her little room and closed the door. Then he turned to the dwarf, and said abruptly:
“Listen, Mr…”
“Meaning me?[15]“ returned the dwarf. “Daniel Quilp[16] is my name. You must remember. It’s not a long one: Daniel Quilp.”
“Listen, Mr. Quilp, then,” pursued the other. “You have some influence with my grandfather there.”
“Some,” said Mr. Quilp emphatically.
“And know about a few of his mysteries and secrets.”
“A few,” replied Quilp, with equal dryness.
“Then let me tell him, through you, that I will come into and go out of this place as often as I like, so long as he keeps Nell here. Let him say so. I will see her when I want. That’s my point. I came here today to see her, and I’ll come here again fifty times with the same object and always with the same success. I have done so, and now my visit’s ended. Come, Dick.”
Fred and Dick left.
The dwarf appeared quite horrible, with his monstrous head and little body, as he rubbed his hands slowly round, and round, and round again with something fantastic, dropping his shaggy brows and cocking his chin in the air.
“Here,” he said, putting his hand into his breast[17]; “I brought it myself, this gold is too large and heavy for Nell to carry in her bag. I would like to know in what good investment all these gold sinks. But you are a deep man, and keep your secret close.”
“My secret!” said the other with a haggard look. “Yes, you’re right I keep it close very close.”
He said no more, but, taking the money, turned away with a slow uncertain step, and pressed his hand upon his head. The dwarf went away.
Nell brought some needle-work[18] to the table, and sat by the old man’s side. The old man laid his hand on hers, and spoke aloud.
“Nell,” he said; “there must be good fortune for you I do not ask it for myself, but for you only. It will come at last!”
The girl looked cheerfully into his face, but made no answer.
4
Mr. and Mrs. Quilp resided on Tower Hill[19]. Mr. Quilp’s occupations were numerous. He collected the rents of whole colonies of filthy streets and alleys by the water-side, advanced money to the seamen and petty officers of merchant vessels, and made appointments with men in glazed hats and round jackets[20] pretty well every day. On the southern side of the river was a small rat-infested[21] dreary yard called “Quilp’s Wharf,” in which were a little wooden house. There were nearby a few fragments of rusty anchors; several large iron rings; some piles of rotten wood; and two or three heaps of old sheet copper, crumpled, cracked, and battered. On Quilp’s Wharf, Daniel Quilp was a ship-breaker. The dwarfs lodging on Tower Hill had a sleeping-closet for Mrs. Quilp’s mother, who resided with the couple.
That day besides these ladies there were present some half-dozen ladies of the neighbourhood who had come just about tea-time. The ladies felt an inclination to talk and linger.
A stout lady opened the inquired, with an air of great concern and sympathy, how Mr. Quilp was; whereunto Mr. Quilp’s wife’s mother replied sharply,
“Oh! he is well enough, ill weeds are sure to thrive[22].”
All the ladies then sighed in concert, shook their heads gravely, and looked at Mrs. Quilp as at a martyr.
Poor Mrs. Quilp coloured, and smiled. Suddenly Daniel Quilp himself was observed to be in the room, looking on and listening with profound attention.
“Go on, ladies, go on,”
gave him the aspect of – придавала ему сходство
upon his temples – на висках
Meaning me? – Это вы мне?
Daniel Quilp – Дэниел Квилп
into his breast – за пазуху
needle-work – рукоделье
Tower Hill – Тауэр-Хилл (небольшая возвышенная местность в Лондоне к северо-западу от Тауэра)
round jackets – кургузые пиджаки
rat-infested – кишащий крысами
ill weeds are sure to thrive – худой траве всё впрок
