If tears dropped into a trunk were charms to preserve its owner fromsorrow and misfortune, Nicholas Nickleby would have commenced hisexpedition under most happy auspices. There was so much to be done, andso little time to do it in; so many kind words to be spoken, and suchbitter pain in the hearts in which they rose to impede their utterance;that the little preparations for his journey were made mournfullyindeed. A hundred things which the anxious care of his mother and sisterdeemed indispensable for his comfort, Nicholas insisted on leavingbehind, as they might prove of some after use, or might be convertibleinto money if occasion required. A hundred affectionate contests onsuch points as these, took place on the sad night which preceded hisdeparture; and, as the termination of every angerless dispute broughtthem nearer and nearer to the close of their slight preparations, Kategrew busier and busier, and wept more silently.

The box was packed at last, and then there came supper, with some littledelicacy provided for the occasion, and as a set-off against the expenseof which, Kate and her mother had feigned to dine when Nicholas was out.The poor lad nearly choked himself by attempting to partake of it,and almost suffocated himself in affecting a jest or two, and forcing amelancholy laugh. Thus, they lingered on till the hour of separatingfor the night was long past; and then they found that they might aswell have given vent to their real feelings before, for they could notsuppress them, do what they would. So, they let them have their way, andeven that was a relief.

Nicholas slept well till six next morning; dreamed of home, or of whatwas home once--no matter which, for things that are changed or gone willcome back as they used to be, thank God! in sleep--and rose quite briskand gay. He wrote a few lines in pencil, to say the goodbye which he wasafraid to pronounce himself, and laying them, with half his scanty stockof money, at his sister's door, shouldered his box and crept softlydownstairs.

'Is that you, Hannah?' cried a voice from Miss La Creevy's sitting-room,whence shone the light of a feeble candle.

'It is I, Miss La Creevy,' said Nicholas, putting down the box andlooking in.

'Bless us!' exclaimed Miss La Creevy, starting and putting her hand toher curl-papers. 'You're up very early, Mr Nickleby.'

'So are you,' replied Nicholas.

'It's the fine arts that bring me out of bed, Mr Nickleby,' returned thelady. 'I'm waiting for the light to carry out an idea.'

Miss La Creevy had got up early to put a fancy nose into a miniature ofan ugly little boy, destined for his grandmother in the country, who wasexpected to bequeath him property if he was like the family.

'To carry out an idea,' repeated Miss La Creevy; 'and that's the greatconvenience of living in a thoroughfare like the Strand. When I wanta nose or an eye for any particular sitter, I have only to look out ofwindow and wait till I get one.'

'Does it take long to get a nose, now?' inquired Nicholas, smiling.

'Why, that depends in a great measure on the pattern,' replied Miss LaCreevy. 'Snubs and Romans are plentiful enough, and there are flats ofall sorts and sizes when there's a meeting at Exeter Hall; but perfectaquilines, I am sorry to say, are scarce, and we generally use them foruniforms or public characters.'

'Indeed!' said Nicholas. 'If I should meet with any in my travels, I'llendeavour to sketch them for you.'

'You don't mean to say that you are really going all the way down intoYorkshire this cold winter's weather, Mr Nickleby?' said Miss La Creevy.'I heard something of it last night.'

'I do, indeed,' replied Nicholas. 'Needs must, you know, when somebodydrives. Necessity is my driver, and that is only another name for thesame gentleman.'

'Well, I am very sorry for it; that's all I can say,' said Miss LaCreevy; 'as much on your mother's and sister's account as on yours.Your sister is a very pretty young lady, Mr Nickleby, and that isan additional reason why she should have somebody to protect her. Ipersuaded her to give me a sitting or two, for the street-door case.'Ah! she'll make a sweet miniature.' As Miss La Creevy spoke, she heldup an ivory countenance intersected with very perceptible sky-blueveins, and regarded it with so much complacency, that Nicholas quiteenvied her.

'If you ever have an opportunity of showing Kate some little kindness,'said Nicholas, presenting his hand, 'I think you will.'

'Depend upon that,' said the good-natured miniature painter; 'and Godbless you, Mr Nickleby; and I wish you well.'

It was very little that Nicholas knew of the world, but he guessedenough about its ways to think, that if he gave Miss La Creevy onelittle kiss, perhaps she might not be the less kindly disposed towardsthose he was leaving behind. So, he gave her three or four with a kindof jocose gallantry, and Miss La Creevy evinced no greater symptoms ofdispleasure than declaring, as she adjusted her yellow turban, that shehad never heard of such a thing, and couldn't have believed it possible.

Having terminated the unexpected interview in this satisfactory manner,Nicholas hastily withdrew himself from the house. By the time he hadfound a man to carry his box it was only seven o'clock, so he walkedslowly on, a little in advance of the porter, and very probably with nothalf as light a heart in his breast as the man had, although he had nowaistcoat to cover it with, and had evidently, from the appearance ofhis other garments, been spending the night in a stable, and taking hisbreakfast at a pump.

Regarding, with no small curiosity and interest, all the busypreparations for the coming day which every street and almost everyhouse displayed; and thinking, now and then, that it seemed rather hardthat so many people of all ranks and stations could earn a livelihood inLondon, and that he should be compelled to journey so far in search ofone; Nicholas speedily arrived at the Saracen's Head, Snow Hill. Havingdismissed his attendant, and seen the box safely deposited in thecoach-office, he looked into the coffee-room in search of Mr Squeers.

He found that learned gentleman sitting at breakfast, with the threelittle boys before noticed, and two others who had turned up by somelucky chance since the interview of the previous day, ranged in a row onthe opposite seat. Mr Squeers had before him a small measure of coffee,a plate of hot toast, and a cold round of beef; but he was at thatmoment intent on preparing breakfast for the little boys.

'This is twopenn'orth of milk, is it, waiter?' said Mr Squeers, lookingdown into a large blue mug, and slanting it gently, so as to get anaccurate view of the quantity of liquid contained in it.

'That's twopenn'orth, sir,' replied the waiter.

'What a rare article milk is, to be sure, in London!' said Mr Squeers,with a sigh. 'Just fill that mug up with lukewarm water, William, willyou?'

'To the wery top, sir?' inquired the waiter. 'Why, the milk will bedrownded.'

'Never you mind that,' replied Mr Squeers. 'Serve it right for being sodear. You ordered that thick bread and butter for three, did you?'

'Coming directly, sir.'

'You needn't hurry yourself,' said Squeers; 'there's plenty of time.Conquer your passions, boys, and don't be eager after vittles.' As heuttered this moral precept, Mr Squeers took a large bite out of the coldbeef, and recognised Nicholas.

'Sit down, Mr Nickleby,' said Squeers. 'Here we are, a breakfasting yousee!'

Nicholas did NOT see that anybody was breakfasting, except Mr Squeers;but he bowed with all becoming reverence, and looked as cheerful as hecould.

'Oh! that's the milk and water, is it, William?' said Squeers. 'Verygood; don't forget the bread and butter presently.'

At this fresh mention of the bread and butter, the five little boyslooked very eager, and followed the waiter out, with their eyes;meanwhile Mr Squeers tasted the milk and water.

'Ah!' said that gentleman, smacking his lips, 'here's richness! Think ofthe many beggars and orphans in the streets that would be glad of this,little boys. A shocking thing hunger, isn't it, Mr Nickleby?'

'Very shocking, sir,' said Nicholas.

'When I say number one,' pursued Mr Squeers, putting the mug before thechildren, 'the boy on the left hand nearest the window may take a drink;and when I say number two, the boy next him will go in, and so till wecome to number five, which is the last boy. Are you ready?'

'Yes, sir,' cried all the little boys with great eagerness.

'That's right,' said Squeers, calmly getting on with his breakfast;'keep ready till I tell you to begin. Subdue your appetites, my dears,and you've conquered human natur. This is the way we inculcate strengthof mind, Mr Nickleby,' said the schoolmaster, turning to Nicholas, andspeaking with his mouth very full of beef and toast.

Nicholas murmured something--he knew not what--in reply; and the littleboys, dividing their gaze between the mug, the bread and butter (whichhad by this time arrived), and every morsel which Mr Squeers took intohis mouth, remained with strained eyes in torments of expectation.

'Thank God for a good breakfast,' said Squeers, when he had finished.'Number one may take a drink.'

Number one seized the mug ravenously, and had just drunk enough to makehim wish for more, when Mr Squeers gave the signal for number two, whogave up at the same interesting moment to number three; and the processwas repeated until the milk and water terminated with number five.

'And now,' said the schoolmaster, dividing the bread and butter forthree into as many portions as there were children, 'you had better looksharp with your breakfast, for the horn will blow in a minute or two,and then every boy leaves off.'

Permission being thus given to fall to, the boys began to eatvoraciously, and in desperate haste: while the schoolmaster (who wasin high good humour after his meal) picked his teeth with a fork, andlooked smilingly on. In a very short time, the horn was heard.

'I thought it wouldn't be long,' said Squeers, jumping up and producinga little basket from under the seat; 'put what you haven't had time toeat, in here, boys! You'll want it on the road!'

Nicholas was considerably startled by these very economicalarrangements; but he had no time to reflect upon them, for the littleboys had to be got up to the top of the coach, and their boxes had tobe brought out and put in, and Mr Squeers's luggage was to be seencarefully deposited in the boot, and all these offices were in hisdepartment. He was in the full heat and bustle of concluding theseoperations, when his uncle, Mr Ralph Nickleby, accosted him.

'Oh! here you are, sir!' said Ralph. 'Here are your mother and sister,sir.'

'Where?' cried Nicholas, looking hastily round.

'Here!' replied his uncle. 'Having too much money and nothing at all todo with it, they were paying a hackney coach as I came up, sir.'

'We were afraid of being too late to see him before he went away fromus,' said Mrs Nickleby, embracing her son, heedless of the unconcernedlookers-on in the coach-yard.

'Very good, ma'am,' returned Ralph, 'you're the best judge of course. Imerely said that you were paying a hackney coach. I never pay a hackneycoach, ma'am; I never hire one. I haven't been in a hackney coach of myown hiring, for thirty years, and I hope I shan't be for thirty more, ifI live as long.'

'I should never have forgiven myself if I had not seen him,' said MrsNickleby. 'Poor dear boy--going away without his breakfast too, becausehe feared to distress us!'

'Mighty fine certainly,' said Ralph, with great testiness. 'When I firstwent to business, ma'am, I took a penny loaf and a ha'porth of milk formy breakfast as I walked to the city every morning; what do you say tothat, ma'am? Breakfast! Bah!'

'Now, Nickleby,' said Squeers, coming up at the moment buttoning hisgreatcoat; 'I think you'd better get up behind. I'm afraid of one ofthem boys falling off and then there's twenty pound a year gone.'

'Dear Nicholas,' whispered Kate, touching her brother's arm, 'who isthat vulgar man?'

'Eh!' growled Ralph, whose quick ears had caught the inquiry. 'Do youwish to be introduced to Mr Squeers, my dear?'

'That the schoolmaster! No, uncle. Oh no!' replied Kate, shrinking back.

'I'm sure I heard you say as much, my dear,' retorted Ralph in his coldsarcastic manner. 'Mr Squeers, here's my niece: Nicholas's sister!'

'Very glad to make your acquaintance, miss,' said Squeers, raising hishat an inch or two. 'I wish Mrs Squeers took gals, and we had you for ateacher. I don't know, though, whether she mightn't grow jealous if wehad. Ha! ha! ha!'

If the proprietor of Dotheboys Hall could have known what was passingin his assistant's breast at that moment, he would have discovered, withsome surprise, that he was as near being soundly pummelled as he hadever been in his life. Kate Nickleby, having a quicker perception of herbrother's emotions, led him gently aside, and thus prevented Mr Squeersfrom being impressed with the fact in a peculiarly disagreeable manner.

'My dear Nicholas,' said the young lady, 'who is this man? What kind ofplace can it be that you are going to?'

'I hardly know, Kate,' replied Nicholas, pressing his sister's hand. 'Isuppose the Yorkshire folks are rather rough and uncultivated; that'sall.'

'But this person,' urged Kate.

'Is my employer, or master, or whatever the proper name may be,' repliedNicholas quickly; 'and I was an ass to take his coarseness ill. They arelooking this way, and it is time I was in my place. Bless you, love,and goodbye! Mother, look forward to our meeting again someday! Uncle,farewell! Thank you heartily for all you have done and all you mean todo. Quite ready, sir!'

With these hasty adieux, Nicholas mounted nimbly to his seat, and wavedhis hand as gallantly as if his heart went with it.

At this moment, when the coachman and guard were comparing notes for thelast time before starting, on the subject of the way-bill; when porterswere screwing out the last reluctant sixpences, itinerant newsmenmaking the last offer of a morning paper, and the horses giving the lastimpatient rattle to their harness; Nicholas felt somebody pulling softlyat his leg. He looked down, and there stood Newman Noggs, who pushed upinto his hand a dirty letter.

'What's this?' inquired Nicholas.

'Hush!' rejoined Noggs, pointing to Mr Ralph Nickleby, who was saying afew earnest words to Squeers, a short distance off: 'Take it. Read it.Nobody knows. That's all.'

'Stop!' cried Nicholas.

'No,' replied Noggs.

Nicholas cried stop, again, but Newman Noggs was gone.

A minute's bustle, a banging of the coach doors, a swaying of thevehicle to one side, as the heavy coachman, and still heavier guard,climbed into their seats; a cry of all right, a few notes from the horn,a hasty glance of two sorrowful faces below, and the hard features of MrRalph Nickleby--and the coach was gone too, and rattling over the stonesof Smithfield.

The little boys' legs being too short to admit of their feetresting upon anything as they sat, and the little boys' bodies beingconsequently in imminent hazard of being jerked off the coach, Nicholashad enough to do over the stones to hold them on. Between the manualexertion and the mental anxiety attendant upon this task, he was not alittle relieved when the coach stopped at the Peacock at Islington. Hewas still more relieved when a hearty-looking gentleman, with a verygood-humoured face, and a very fresh colour, got up behind, and proposedto take the other corner of the seat.

'If we put some of these youngsters in the middle,' said the new-comer,'they'll be safer in case of their going to sleep; eh?'

'If you'll have the goodness, sir,' replied Squeers, 'that'll be thevery thing. Mr Nickleby, take three of them boys between you and thegentleman. Belling and the youngest Snawley can sit between me and theguard. Three children,' said Squeers, explaining to the stranger, 'booksas two.'

'I have not the least objection I am sure,' said the fresh-colouredgentleman; 'I have a brother who wouldn't object to book his sixchildren as two at any butcher's or baker's in the kingdom, I dare say.Far from it.'

'Six children, sir?' exclaimed Squeers.

'Yes, and all boys,' replied the stranger.

'Mr Nickleby,' said Squeers, in great haste, 'catch hold of that basket.Let me give you a card, sir, of an establishment where those six boyscan be brought up in an enlightened, liberal, and moral manner, with nomistake at all about it, for twenty guineas a year each--twenty guineas,sir--or I'd take all the boys together upon a average right through, andsay a hundred pound a year for the lot.'

'Oh!' said the gentleman, glancing at the card, 'you are the Mr Squeersmentioned here, I presume?'

'Yes, I am, sir,' replied the worthy pedagogue; 'Mr Wackford Squeers ismy name, and I'm very far from being ashamed of it. These are some of myboys, sir; that's one of my assistants, sir--Mr Nickleby, a gentleman'sson, and a good scholar, mathematical, classical, and commercial. Wedon't do things by halves at our shop. All manner of learning my boystake down, sir; the expense is never thought of; and they get paternaltreatment and washing in.'

'Upon my word,' said the gentleman, glancing at Nicholas with ahalf-smile, and a more than half expression of surprise, 'these areadvantages indeed.'

'You may say that, sir,' rejoined Squeers, thrusting his hands into hisgreat-coat pockets. 'The most unexceptionable references are givenand required. I wouldn't take a reference with any boy, that wasn'tresponsible for the payment of five pound five a quarter, no, not if youwent down on your knees, and asked me, with the tears running down yourface, to do it.'

'Highly considerate,' said the passenger.

'It's my great aim and end to be considerate, sir,' rejoined Squeers.'Snawley, junior, if you don't leave off chattering your teeth, andshaking with the cold, I'll warm you with a severe thrashing in abouthalf a minute's time.'

'Sit fast here, genelmen,' said the guard as he clambered up.

'All right behind there, Dick?' cried the coachman.

'All right,' was the reply. 'Off she goes!' And off she did go--ifcoaches be feminine--amidst a loud flourish from the guard's horn,and the calm approval of all the judges of coaches and coach-horsescongregated at the Peacock, but more especially of the helpers, whostood, with the cloths over their arms, watching the coach till itdisappeared, and then lounged admiringly stablewards, bestowing variousgruff encomiums on the beauty of the turn-out.

When the guard (who was a stout old Yorkshireman) had blown himselfquite out of breath, he put the horn into a little tunnel of a basketfastened to the coach-side for the purpose, and giving himself aplentiful shower of blows on the chest and shoulders, observed it wasuncommon cold; after which, he demanded of every person separatelywhether he was going right through, and if not, where he WAS going.Satisfactory replies being made to these queries, he surmised that theroads were pretty heavy arter that fall last night, and took theliberty of asking whether any of them gentlemen carried a snuff-box. Ithappening that nobody did, he remarked with a mysterious air that he hadheard a medical gentleman as went down to Grantham last week, say howthat snuff-taking was bad for the eyes; but for his part he had neverfound it so, and what he said was, that everybody should speak as theyfound. Nobody attempting to controvert this position, he took a smallbrown-paper parcel out of his hat, and putting on a pair of hornspectacles (the writing being crabbed) read the direction half-a-dozentimes over; having done which, he consigned the parcel to its old place,put up his spectacles again, and stared at everybody in turn. Afterthis, he took another blow at the horn by way of refreshment; and,having now exhausted his usual topics of conversation, folded his armsas well as he could in so many coats, and falling into a solemn silence,looked carelessly at the familiar objects which met his eye on everyside as the coach rolled on; the only things he seemed to care for,being horses and droves of cattle, which he scrutinised with a criticalair as they were passed upon the road.

The weather was intensely and bitterly cold; a great deal of snow fellfrom time to time; and the wind was intolerably keen. Mr Squeers gotdown at almost every stage--to stretch his legs as he said--and as healways came back from such excursions with a very red nose, and composedhimself to sleep directly, there is reason to suppose that he derivedgreat benefit from the process. The little pupils having been stimulatedwith the remains of their breakfast, and further invigorated by sundrysmall cups of a curious cordial carried by Mr Squeers, which tasted verylike toast-and-water put into a brandy bottle by mistake, went to sleep,woke, shivered, and cried, as their feelings prompted. Nicholas andthe good-tempered man found so many things to talk about, that betweenconversing together, and cheering up the boys, the time passed with themas rapidly as it could, under such adverse circumstances.

So the day wore on. At Eton Slocomb there was a good coach dinner, ofwhich the box, the four front outsides, the one inside, Nicholas, thegood-tempered man, and Mr Squeers, partook; while the five little boyswere put to thaw by the fire, and regaled with sandwiches. A stage ortwo further on, the lamps were lighted, and a great to-do occasionedby the taking up, at a roadside inn, of a very fastidious lady with aninfinite variety of cloaks and small parcels, who loudly lamented, forthe behoof of the outsides, the non-arrival of her own carriage whichwas to have taken her on, and made the guard solemnly promise to stopevery green chariot he saw coming; which, as it was a dark night and hewas sitting with his face the other way, that officer undertook, withmany fervent asseverations, to do. Lastly, the fastidious lady, findingthere was a solitary gentleman inside, had a small lamp lighted whichshe carried in reticule, and being after much trouble shut in, thehorses were put into a brisk canter and the coach was once more in rapidmotion.

The night and the snow came on together, and dismal enough they were.There was no sound to be heard but the howling of the wind; for thenoise of the wheels, and the tread of the horses' feet, were renderedinaudible by the thick coating of snow which covered the ground, and wasfast increasing every moment. The streets of Stamford were deserted asthey passed through the town; and its old churches rose, frowning anddark, from the whitened ground. Twenty miles further on, two of thefront outside passengers, wisely availing themselves of their arrival atone of the best inns in England, turned in, for the night, at the Georgeat Grantham. The remainder wrapped themselves more closely in theircoats and cloaks, and leaving the light and warmth of the town behindthem, pillowed themselves against the luggage, and prepared, with manyhalf-suppressed moans, again to encounter the piercing blast which sweptacross the open country.

They were little more than a stage out of Grantham, or about halfwaybetween it and Newark, when Nicholas, who had been asleep for a shorttime, was suddenly roused by a violent jerk which nearly threw him fromhis seat. Grasping the rail, he found that the coach had sunk greatlyon one side, though it was still dragged forward by the horses; andwhile--confused by their plunging and the loud screams of the ladyinside--he hesitated, for an instant, whether to jump off or not,the vehicle turned easily over, and relieved him from all furtheruncertainty by flinging him into the road.