For anything I know, I may have had some wild idea of running all theway to Dover, when I gave up the pursuit of the young man with thedonkey-cart, and started for Greenwich. My scattered senses were sooncollected as to that point, if I had; for I came to a stop in the KentRoad, at a terrace with a piece of water before it, and a great foolishimage in the middle, blowing a dry shell. Here I sat down on a doorstep,quite spent and exhausted with the efforts I had already made, and withhardly breath enough to cry for the loss of my box and half-guinea.

It was by this time dark; I heard the clocks strike ten, as I satresting. But it was a summer night, fortunately, and fine weather. WhenI had recovered my breath, and had got rid of a stifling sensation inmy throat, I rose up and went on. In the midst of my distress, I had nonotion of going back. I doubt if I should have had any, though there hadbeen a Swiss snow-drift in the Kent Road.

But my standing possessed of only three-halfpence in the world (and Iam sure I wonder how they came to be left in my pocket on a Saturdaynight!) troubled me none the less because I went on. I began to pictureto myself, as a scrap of newspaper intelligence, my being found dead ina day or two, under some hedge; and I trudged on miserably, though asfast as I could, until I happened to pass a little shop, where it waswritten up that ladies' and gentlemen's wardrobes were bought, and thatthe best price was given for rags, bones, and kitchen-stuff. The masterof this shop was sitting at the door in his shirt-sleeves, smoking; andas there were a great many coats and pairs of trousers dangling fromthe low ceiling, and only two feeble candles burning inside to showwhat they were, I fancied that he looked like a man of a revengefuldisposition, who had hung all his enemies, and was enjoying himself.

My late experiences with Mr. and Mrs. Micawber suggested to me that heremight be a means of keeping off the wolf for a little while. I went upthe next by-street, took off my waistcoat, rolled it neatly under myarm, and came back to the shop door.

'If you please, sir,' I said, 'I am to sell this for a fair price.'

Mr. Dolloby--Dolloby was the name over the shop door, at least--took thewaistcoat, stood his pipe on its head, against the door-post, went intothe shop, followed by me, snuffed the two candles with his fingers,spread the waistcoat on the counter, and looked at it there, held it upagainst the light, and looked at it there, and ultimately said:

'What do you call a price, now, for this here little weskit?'

'Oh! you know best, sir,' I returned modestly.

'I can't be buyer and seller too,' said Mr. Dolloby. 'Put a price onthis here little weskit.'

'Would eighteenpence be?'--I hinted, after some hesitation.

Mr. Dolloby rolled it up again, and gave it me back. 'I should rob myfamily,' he said, 'if I was to offer ninepence for it.'

This was a disagreeable way of putting the business; because it imposedupon me, a perfect stranger, the unpleasantness of asking Mr. Dolloby torob his family on my account. My circumstances being so very pressing,however, I said I would take ninepence for it, if he pleased. Mr.Dolloby, not without some grumbling, gave ninepence. I wished him goodnight, and walked out of the shop the richer by that sum, and thepoorer by a waistcoat. But when I buttoned my jacket, that was not much.Indeed, I foresaw pretty clearly that my jacket would go next, and thatI should have to make the best of my way to Dover in a shirt and a pairof trousers, and might deem myself lucky if I got there even in thattrim. But my mind did not run so much on this as might be supposed.Beyond a general impression of the distance before me, and of the youngman with the donkey-cart having used me cruelly, I think I had novery urgent sense of my difficulties when I once again set off with myninepence in my pocket.

A plan had occurred to me for passing the night, which I was going tocarry into execution. This was, to lie behind the wall at the back of myold school, in a corner where there used to be a haystack. I imaginedit would be a kind of company to have the boys, and the bedroom whereI used to tell the stories, so near me: although the boys would knownothing of my being there, and the bedroom would yield me no shelter.

I had had a hard day's work, and was pretty well jaded when I cameclimbing out, at last, upon the level of Blackheath. It cost me sometrouble to find out Salem House; but I found it, and I found a haystackin the corner, and I lay down by it; having first walked round the wall,and looked up at the windows, and seen that all was dark and silentwithin. Never shall I forget the lonely sensation of first lying down,without a roof above my head!

Sleep came upon me as it came on many other outcasts, against whomhouse-doors were locked, and house-dogs barked, that night--and Idreamed of lying on my old school-bed, talking to the boys in my room;and found myself sitting upright, with Steerforth's name upon my lips,looking wildly at the stars that were glistening and glimmering aboveme. When I remembered where I was at that untimely hour, a feelingstole upon me that made me get up, afraid of I don't know what, and walkabout. But the fainter glimmering of the stars, and the pale light inthe sky where the day was coming, reassured me: and my eyes being veryheavy, I lay down again and slept--though with a knowledge in my sleepthat it was cold--until the warm beams of the sun, and the ringing ofthe getting-up bell at Salem House, awoke me. If I could have hoped thatSteerforth was there, I would have lurked about until he came outalone; but I knew he must have left long since. Traddles still remained,perhaps, but it was very doubtful; and I had not sufficient confidencein his discretion or good luck, however strong my reliance was on hisgood nature, to wish to trust him with my situation. So I crept awayfrom the wall as Mr. Creakle's boys were getting up, and struck into thelong dusty track which I had first known to be the Dover Road when I wasone of them, and when I little expected that any eyes would ever see methe wayfarer I was now, upon it.

What a different Sunday morning from the old Sunday morning at Yarmouth!In due time I heard the church-bells ringing, as I plodded on; and I metpeople who were going to church; and I passed a church or two where thecongregation were inside, and the sound of singing came out into thesunshine, while the beadle sat and cooled himself in the shade of theporch, or stood beneath the yew-tree, with his hand to his forehead,glowering at me going by. But the peace and rest of the old Sundaymorning were on everything, except me. That was the difference. I feltquite wicked in my dirt and dust, with my tangled hair. But for thequiet picture I had conjured up, of my mother in her youth and beauty,weeping by the fire, and my aunt relenting to her, I hardly think Ishould have had the courage to go on until next day. But it always wentbefore me, and I followed.

I got, that Sunday, through three-and-twenty miles on the straightroad, though not very easily, for I was new to that kind of toil. Isee myself, as evening closes in, coming over the bridge at Rochester,footsore and tired, and eating bread that I had bought for supper.One or two little houses, with the notice, 'Lodgings for Travellers',hanging out, had tempted me; but I was afraid of spending the few penceI had, and was even more afraid of the vicious looks of the trampers Ihad met or overtaken. I sought no shelter, therefore, but the sky; andtoiling into Chatham,--which, in that night's aspect, is a mere dream ofchalk, and drawbridges, and mastless ships in a muddy river, roofedlike Noah's arks,--crept, at last, upon a sort of grass-grown batteryoverhanging a lane, where a sentry was walking to and fro. Here Ilay down, near a cannon; and, happy in the society of the sentry'sfootsteps, though he knew no more of my being above him than the boysat Salem House had known of my lying by the wall, slept soundly untilmorning.

Very stiff and sore of foot I was in the morning, and quite dazed by thebeating of drums and marching of troops, which seemed to hem me in onevery side when I went down towards the long narrow street. Feelingthat I could go but a very little way that day, if I were to reserve anystrength for getting to my journey's end, I resolved to make the saleof my jacket its principal business. Accordingly, I took the jacket off,that I might learn to do without it; and carrying it under my arm, begana tour of inspection of the various slop-shops.

It was a likely place to sell a jacket in; for the dealers insecond-hand clothes were numerous, and were, generally speaking, on thelook-out for customers at their shop doors. But as most of them had,hanging up among their stock, an officer's coat or two, epaulettes andall, I was rendered timid by the costly nature of their dealings, andwalked about for a long time without offering my merchandise to anyone.

This modesty of mine directed my attention to the marine-store shops,and such shops as Mr. Dolloby's, in preference to the regular dealers.At last I found one that I thought looked promising, at the corner of adirty lane, ending in an enclosure full of stinging-nettles, against thepalings of which some second-hand sailors' clothes, that seemed to haveoverflowed the shop, were fluttering among some cots, and rusty guns,and oilskin hats, and certain trays full of so many old rusty keys of somany sizes that they seemed various enough to open all the doors in theworld.

Into this shop, which was low and small, and which was darkenedrather than lighted by a little window, overhung with clothes, and wasdescended into by some steps, I went with a palpitating heart; which wasnot relieved when an ugly old man, with the lower part of his face allcovered with a stubbly grey beard, rushed out of a dirty den behind it,and seized me by the hair of my head. He was a dreadful old man to lookat, in a filthy flannel waistcoat, and smelling terribly of rum. Hisbedstead, covered with a tumbled and ragged piece of patchwork, was inthe den he had come from, where another little window showed a prospectof more stinging-nettles, and a lame donkey.

'Oh, what do you want?' grinned this old man, in a fierce, monotonouswhine. 'Oh, my eyes and limbs, what do you want? Oh, my lungs and liver,what do you want? Oh, goroo, goroo!'

I was so much dismayed by these words, and particularly by therepetition of the last unknown one, which was a kind of rattle in histhroat, that I could make no answer; hereupon the old man, still holdingme by the hair, repeated:

'Oh, what do you want? Oh, my eyes and limbs, what do you want? Oh, mylungs and liver, what do you want? Oh, goroo!'--which he screwed out ofhimself, with an energy that made his eyes start in his head.

'I wanted to know,' I said, trembling, 'if you would buy a jacket.'

'Oh, let's see the jacket!' cried the old man. 'Oh, my heart on fire,show the jacket to us! Oh, my eyes and limbs, bring the jacket out!'

With that he took his trembling hands, which were like the claws of agreat bird, out of my hair; and put on a pair of spectacles, not at allornamental to his inflamed eyes.

'Oh, how much for the jacket?' cried the old man, after examining it.'Oh--goroo!--how much for the jacket?'

'Half-a-crown,' I answered, recovering myself.

'Oh, my lungs and liver,' cried the old man, 'no! Oh, my eyes, no! Oh,my limbs, no! Eighteenpence. Goroo!'

Every time he uttered this ejaculation, his eyes seemed to be in dangerof starting out; and every sentence he spoke, he delivered in a sortof tune, always exactly the same, and more like a gust of wind, whichbegins low, mounts up high, and falls again, than any other comparison Ican find for it.

'Well,' said I, glad to have closed the bargain, 'I'll takeeighteenpence.'

'Oh, my liver!' cried the old man, throwing the jacket on a shelf. 'Getout of the shop! Oh, my lungs, get out of the shop! Oh, my eyes andlimbs--goroo!--don't ask for money; make it an exchange.' I never wasso frightened in my life, before or since; but I told him humbly thatI wanted money, and that nothing else was of any use to me, but that Iwould wait for it, as he desired, outside, and had no wish to hurryhim. So I went outside, and sat down in the shade in a corner. And I satthere so many hours, that the shade became sunlight, and the sunlightbecame shade again, and still I sat there waiting for the money.

There never was such another drunken madman in that line of business,I hope. That he was well known in the neighbourhood, and enjoyed thereputation of having sold himself to the devil, I soon understood fromthe visits he received from the boys, who continually came skirmishingabout the shop, shouting that legend, and calling to him to bring outhis gold. 'You ain't poor, you know, Charley, as you pretend. Bring outyour gold. Bring out some of the gold you sold yourself to the devilfor. Come! It's in the lining of the mattress, Charley. Rip it openand let's have some!' This, and many offers to lend him a knife forthe purpose, exasperated him to such a degree, that the whole day was asuccession of rushes on his part, and flights on the part of the boys.Sometimes in his rage he would take me for one of them, and come at me,mouthing as if he were going to tear me in pieces; then, rememberingme, just in time, would dive into the shop, and lie upon his bed, as Ithought from the sound of his voice, yelling in a frantic way, to hisown windy tune, the 'Death of Nelson'; with an Oh! before every line,and innumerable Goroos interspersed. As if this were not bad enough forme, the boys, connecting me with the establishment, on account of thepatience and perseverance with which I sat outside, half-dressed, peltedme, and used me very ill all day.

He made many attempts to induce me to consent to an exchange; at onetime coming out with a fishing-rod, at another with a fiddle, at anotherwith a cocked hat, at another with a flute. But I resisted all theseovertures, and sat there in desperation; each time asking him, withtears in my eyes, for my money or my jacket. At last he began to pay mein halfpence at a time; and was full two hours getting by easy stages toa shilling.

'Oh, my eyes and limbs!' he then cried, peeping hideously out of theshop, after a long pause, 'will you go for twopence more?'

'I can't,' I said; 'I shall be starved.'

'Oh, my lungs and liver, will you go for threepence?'

'I would go for nothing, if I could,' I said, 'but I want the moneybadly.'

'Oh, go-roo!' (it is really impossible to express how he twisted thisejaculation out of himself, as he peeped round the door-post at me,showing nothing but his crafty old head); 'will you go for fourpence?'

I was so faint and weary that I closed with this offer; and taking themoney out of his claw, not without trembling, went away more hungry andthirsty than I had ever been, a little before sunset. But at an expenseof threepence I soon refreshed myself completely; and, being in betterspirits then, limped seven miles upon my road.

My bed at night was under another haystack, where I rested comfortably,after having washed my blistered feet in a stream, and dressed them aswell as I was able, with some cool leaves. When I took the road againnext morning, I found that it lay through a succession of hop-groundsand orchards. It was sufficiently late in the year for the orchardsto be ruddy with ripe apples; and in a few places the hop-pickers werealready at work. I thought it all extremely beautiful, and made upmy mind to sleep among the hops that night: imagining some cheerfulcompanionship in the long perspectives of poles, with the gracefulleaves twining round them.

The trampers were worse than ever that day, and inspired me with adread that is yet quite fresh in my mind. Some of them were mostferocious-looking ruffians, who stared at me as I went by; and stopped,perhaps, and called after me to come back and speak to them, and when Itook to my heels, stoned me. I recollect one young fellow--a tinker, Isuppose, from his wallet and brazier--who had a woman with him, andwho faced about and stared at me thus; and then roared to me in such atremendous voice to come back, that I halted and looked round.

'Come here, when you're called,' said the tinker, 'or I'll rip youryoung body open.'

I thought it best to go back. As I drew nearer to them, trying topropitiate the tinker by my looks, I observed that the woman had a blackeye.

'Where are you going?' said the tinker, gripping the bosom of my shirtwith his blackened hand.

'I am going to Dover,' I said.

'Where do you come from?' asked the tinker, giving his hand another turnin my shirt, to hold me more securely.

'I come from London,' I said.

'What lay are you upon?' asked the tinker. 'Are you a prig?'

'N-no,' I said.

'Ain't you, by G--? If you make a brag of your honesty to me,' said thetinker, 'I'll knock your brains out.'

With his disengaged hand he made a menace of striking me, and thenlooked at me from head to foot.

'Have you got the price of a pint of beer about you?' said the tinker.'If you have, out with it, afore I take it away!'

I should certainly have produced it, but that I met the woman's look,and saw her very slightly shake her head, and form 'No!' with her lips.

'I am very poor,' I said, attempting to smile, 'and have got no money.'

'Why, what do you mean?' said the tinker, looking so sternly at me, thatI almost feared he saw the money in my pocket.

'Sir!' I stammered.

'What do you mean,' said the tinker, 'by wearing my brother's silkhandkerchief! Give it over here!' And he had mine off my neck in amoment, and tossed it to the woman.

The woman burst into a fit of laughter, as if she thought this a joke,and tossed it back to me, nodded once, as slightly as before, and madethe word 'Go!' with her lips. Before I could obey, however, the tinkerseized the handkerchief out of my hand with a roughness that threw meaway like a feather, and putting it loosely round his own neck, turnedupon the woman with an oath, and knocked her down. I never shall forgetseeing her fall backward on the hard road, and lie there with her bonnettumbled off, and her hair all whitened in the dust; nor, when I lookedback from a distance, seeing her sitting on the pathway, which was abank by the roadside, wiping the blood from her face with a corner ofher shawl, while he went on ahead.

This adventure frightened me so, that, afterwards, when I saw any ofthese people coming, I turned back until I could find a hiding-place,where I remained until they had gone out of sight; which happened sooften, that I was very seriously delayed. But under this difficulty, asunder all the other difficulties of my journey, I seemed to be sustainedand led on by my fanciful picture of my mother in her youth, before Icame into the world. It always kept me company. It was there, amongthe hops, when I lay down to sleep; it was with me on my waking in themorning; it went before me all day. I have associated it, ever since,with the sunny street of Canterbury, dozing as it were in the hot light;and with the sight of its old houses and gateways, and the stately,grey Cathedral, with the rooks sailing round the towers. When I came,at last, upon the bare, wide downs near Dover, it relieved the solitaryaspect of the scene with hope; and not until I reached that first greataim of my journey, and actually set foot in the town itself, on thesixth day of my flight, did it desert me. But then, strange to say,when I stood with my ragged shoes, and my dusty, sunburnt, half-clothedfigure, in the place so long desired, it seemed to vanish like a dream,and to leave me helpless and dispirited.

I inquired about my aunt among the boatmen first, and received variousanswers. One said she lived in the South Foreland Light, and had singedher whiskers by doing so; another, that she was made fast to the greatbuoy outside the harbour, and could only be visited at half-tide; athird, that she was locked up in Maidstone jail for child-stealing; afourth, that she was seen to mount a broom in the last high wind, andmake direct for Calais. The fly-drivers, among whom I inquired next,were equally jocose and equally disrespectful; and the shopkeepers, notliking my appearance, generally replied, without hearing what I hadto say, that they had got nothing for me. I felt more miserable anddestitute than I had done at any period of my running away. My money wasall gone, I had nothing left to dispose of; I was hungry, thirsty, andworn out; and seemed as distant from my end as if I had remained inLondon.

The morning had worn away in these inquiries, and I was sitting onthe step of an empty shop at a street corner, near the market-place,deliberating upon wandering towards those other places which had beenmentioned, when a fly-driver, coming by with his carriage, dropped ahorsecloth. Something good-natured in the man's face, as I handed it up,encouraged me to ask him if he could tell me where Miss Trotwood lived;though I had asked the question so often, that it almost died upon mylips.

'Trotwood,' said he. 'Let me see. I know the name, too. Old lady?'

'Yes,' I said, 'rather.'

'Pretty stiff in the back?' said he, making himself upright.

'Yes,' I said. 'I should think it very likely.'

'Carries a bag?' said he--'bag with a good deal of room in it--isgruffish, and comes down upon you, sharp?'

My heart sank within me as I acknowledged the undoubted accuracy of thisdescription.

'Why then, I tell you what,' said he. 'If you go up there,' pointingwith his whip towards the heights, 'and keep right on till you come tosome houses facing the sea, I think you'll hear of her. My opinion isshe won't stand anything, so here's a penny for you.'

I accepted the gift thankfully, and bought a loaf with it. Dispatchingthis refreshment by the way, I went in the direction my friend hadindicated, and walked on a good distance without coming to the houseshe had mentioned. At length I saw some before me; and approaching them,went into a little shop (it was what we used to call a general shop,at home), and inquired if they could have the goodness to tell me whereMiss Trotwood lived. I addressed myself to a man behind the counter,who was weighing some rice for a young woman; but the latter, taking theinquiry to herself, turned round quickly.

'My mistress?' she said. 'What do you want with her, boy?'

'I want,' I replied, 'to speak to her, if you please.'

'To beg of her, you mean,' retorted the damsel.

'No,' I said, 'indeed.' But suddenly remembering that in truth I camefor no other purpose, I held my peace in confusion, and felt my faceburn.

MY aunt's handmaid, as I supposed she was from what she had said, puther rice in a little basket and walked out of the shop; telling me thatI could follow her, if I wanted to know where Miss Trotwood lived. Ineeded no second permission; though I was by this time in such a stateof consternation and agitation, that my legs shook under me. I followedthe young woman, and we soon came to a very neat little cottage withcheerful bow-windows: in front of it, a small square gravelled court orgarden full of flowers, carefully tended, and smelling deliciously.

'This is Miss Trotwood's,' said the young woman. 'Now you know; andthat's all I have got to say.' With which words she hurried into thehouse, as if to shake off the responsibility of my appearance; and leftme standing at the garden-gate, looking disconsolately over the top ofit towards the parlour window, where a muslin curtain partly undrawnin the middle, a large round green screen or fan fastened on to thewindowsill, a small table, and a great chair, suggested to me that myaunt might be at that moment seated in awful state.

My shoes were by this time in a woeful condition. The soles had shedthemselves bit by bit, and the upper leathers had broken and burst untilthe very shape and form of shoes had departed from them. My hat (whichhad served me for a night-cap, too) was so crushed and bent, that no oldbattered handleless saucepan on a dunghill need have been ashamed to viewith it. My shirt and trousers, stained with heat, dew, grass, andthe Kentish soil on which I had slept--and torn besides--might havefrightened the birds from my aunt's garden, as I stood at the gate. Myhair had known no comb or brush since I left London. My face, neck, andhands, from unaccustomed exposure to the air and sun, were burnt to aberry-brown. From head to foot I was powdered almost as white with chalkand dust, as if I had come out of a lime-kiln. In this plight, and witha strong consciousness of it, I waited to introduce myself to, and makemy first impression on, my formidable aunt.

The unbroken stillness of the parlour window leading me to infer, aftera while, that she was not there, I lifted up my eyes to the window aboveit, where I saw a florid, pleasant-looking gentleman, with a grey head,who shut up one eye in a grotesque manner, nodded his head at me severaltimes, shook it at me as often, laughed, and went away.

I had been discomposed enough before; but I was so much the morediscomposed by this unexpected behaviour, that I was on the point ofslinking off, to think how I had best proceed, when there came out ofthe house a lady with her handkerchief tied over her cap, and a pairof gardening gloves on her hands, wearing a gardening pocket like atoll-man's apron, and carrying a great knife. I knew her immediatelyto be Miss Betsey, for she came stalking out of the house exactly asmy poor mother had so often described her stalking up our garden atBlunderstone Rookery.

'Go away!' said Miss Betsey, shaking her head, and making a distant chopin the air with her knife. 'Go along! No boys here!'

I watched her, with my heart at my lips, as she marched to a corner ofher garden, and stooped to dig up some little root there. Then, withouta scrap of courage, but with a great deal of desperation, I went softlyin and stood beside her, touching her with my finger.

'If you please, ma'am,' I began.

She started and looked up.

'If you please, aunt.'

'EH?' exclaimed Miss Betsey, in a tone of amazement I have never heardapproached.

'If you please, aunt, I am your nephew.'

'Oh, Lord!' said my aunt. And sat flat down in the garden-path.

'I am David Copperfield, of Blunderstone, in Suffolk--where you came,on the night when I was born, and saw my dear mama. I have been veryunhappy since she died. I have been slighted, and taught nothing, andthrown upon myself, and put to work not fit for me. It made me run awayto you. I was robbed at first setting out, and have walked all theway, and have never slept in a bed since I began the journey.' Heremy self-support gave way all at once; and with a movement of my hands,intended to show her my ragged state, and call it to witness that I hadsuffered something, I broke into a passion of crying, which I supposehad been pent up within me all the week.

My aunt, with every sort of expression but wonder discharged from hercountenance, sat on the gravel, staring at me, until I began to cry;when she got up in a great hurry, collared me, and took me into theparlour. Her first proceeding there was to unlock a tall press, bringout several bottles, and pour some of the contents of each into mymouth. I think they must have been taken out at random, for I am sureI tasted aniseed water, anchovy sauce, and salad dressing. When she hadadministered these restoratives, as I was still quite hysterical, andunable to control my sobs, she put me on the sofa, with a shawl undermy head, and the handkerchief from her own head under my feet, lest Ishould sully the cover; and then, sitting herself down behind the greenfan or screen I have already mentioned, so that I could not see herface, ejaculated at intervals, 'Mercy on us!' letting those exclamationsoff like minute guns.

After a time she rang the bell. 'Janet,' said my aunt, when her servantcame in. 'Go upstairs, give my compliments to Mr. Dick, and say I wishto speak to him.'

Janet looked a little surprised to see me lying stiffly on the sofa (Iwas afraid to move lest it should be displeasing to my aunt), but wenton her errand. My aunt, with her hands behind her, walked up and downthe room, until the gentleman who had squinted at me from the upperwindow came in laughing.

'Mr. Dick,' said my aunt, 'don't be a fool, because nobody can be morediscreet than you can, when you choose. We all know that. So don't be afool, whatever you are.'

The gentleman was serious immediately, and looked at me, I thought, asif he would entreat me to say nothing about the window.

'Mr. Dick,' said my aunt, 'you have heard me mention David Copperfield?Now don't pretend not to have a memory, because you and I know better.'

'David Copperfield?' said Mr. Dick, who did not appear to me toremember much about it. 'David Copperfield? Oh yes, to be sure. David,certainly.'

'Well,' said my aunt, 'this is his boy--his son. He would be as like hisfather as it's possible to be, if he was not so like his mother, too.'

'His son?' said Mr. Dick. 'David's son? Indeed!'

'Yes,' pursued my aunt, 'and he has done a pretty piece of business.He has run away. Ah! His sister, Betsey Trotwood, never would have runaway.' My aunt shook her head firmly, confident in the character andbehaviour of the girl who never was born.

'Oh! you think she wouldn't have run away?' said Mr. Dick.

'Bless and save the man,' exclaimed my aunt, sharply, 'how he talks!Don't I know she wouldn't? She would have lived with her god-mother,and we should have been devoted to one another. Where, in the name ofwonder, should his sister, Betsey Trotwood, have run from, or to?'

'Nowhere,' said Mr. Dick.

'Well then,' returned my aunt, softened by the reply, 'how can youpretend to be wool-gathering, Dick, when you are as sharp as a surgeon'slancet? Now, here you see young David Copperfield, and the question Iput to you is, what shall I do with him?'

'What shall you do with him?' said Mr. Dick, feebly, scratching hishead. 'Oh! do with him?'

'Yes,' said my aunt, with a grave look, and her forefinger held up.'Come! I want some very sound advice.'

'Why, if I was you,' said Mr. Dick, considering, and looking vacantlyat me, 'I should--' The contemplation of me seemed to inspire him with asudden idea, and he added, briskly, 'I should wash him!'

'Janet,' said my aunt, turning round with a quiet triumph, which I didnot then understand, 'Mr. Dick sets us all right. Heat the bath!'

Although I was deeply interested in this dialogue, I could not helpobserving my aunt, Mr. Dick, and Janet, while it was in progress, andcompleting a survey I had already been engaged in making of the room.

MY aunt was a tall, hard-featured lady, but by no means ill-looking.There was an inflexibility in her face, in her voice, in her gait andcarriage, amply sufficient to account for the effect she had made upona gentle creature like my mother; but her features were rather handsomethan otherwise, though unbending and austere. I particularly noticedthat she had a very quick, bright eye. Her hair, which was grey, wasarranged in two plain divisions, under what I believe would be called amob-cap; I mean a cap, much more common then than now, with side-piecesfastening under the chin. Her dress was of a lavender colour, andperfectly neat; but scantily made, as if she desired to be as littleencumbered as possible. I remember that I thought it, in form, more likea riding-habit with the superfluous skirt cut off, than anything else.She wore at her side a gentleman's gold watch, if I might judge from itssize and make, with an appropriate chain and seals; she had some linenat her throat not unlike a shirt-collar, and things at her wrists likelittle shirt-wristbands.

Mr. Dick, as I have already said, was grey-headed, and florid: I shouldhave said all about him, in saying so, had not his head been curiouslybowed--not by age; it reminded me of one of Mr. Creakle's boys' headsafter a beating--and his grey eyes prominent and large, with a strangekind of watery brightness in them that made me, in combination with hisvacant manner, his submission to my aunt, and his childish delight whenshe praised him, suspect him of being a little mad; though, if he weremad, how he came to be there puzzled me extremely. He was dressedlike any other ordinary gentleman, in a loose grey morning coat andwaistcoat, and white trousers; and had his watch in his fob, and hismoney in his pockets: which he rattled as if he were very proud of it.

Janet was a pretty blooming girl, of about nineteen or twenty, and aperfect picture of neatness. Though I made no further observation ofher at the moment, I may mention here what I did not discover untilafterwards, namely, that she was one of a series of protegees whom myaunt had taken into her service expressly to educate in a renouncementof mankind, and who had generally completed their abjuration by marryingthe baker.

The room was as neat as Janet or my aunt. As I laid down my pen, amoment since, to think of it, the air from the sea came blowingin again, mixed with the perfume of the flowers; and I saw theold-fashioned furniture brightly rubbed and polished, my aunt'sinviolable chair and table by the round green fan in the bow-window, thedrugget-covered carpet, the cat, the kettle-holder, the two canaries,the old china, the punchbowl full of dried rose-leaves, the tall pressguarding all sorts of bottles and pots, and, wonderfully out of keepingwith the rest, my dusty self upon the sofa, taking note of everything.

Janet had gone away to get the bath ready, when my aunt, to my greatalarm, became in one moment rigid with indignation, and had hardly voiceto cry out, 'Janet! Donkeys!'

Upon which, Janet came running up the stairs as if the house were inflames, darted out on a little piece of green in front, and warned offtwo saddle-donkeys, lady-ridden, that had presumed to set hoof upon it;while my aunt, rushing out of the house, seized the bridle of a thirdanimal laden with a bestriding child, turned him, led him forth fromthose sacred precincts, and boxed the ears of the unlucky urchin inattendance who had dared to profane that hallowed ground.

To this hour I don't know whether my aunt had any lawful right of wayover that patch of green; but she had settled it in her own mind thatshe had, and it was all the same to her. The one great outrage of herlife, demanding to be constantly avenged, was the passage of a donkeyover that immaculate spot. In whatever occupation she was engaged,however interesting to her the conversation in which she was takingpart, a donkey turned the current of her ideas in a moment, and she wasupon him straight. Jugs of water, and watering-pots, were kept in secretplaces ready to be discharged on the offending boys; sticks were laidin ambush behind the door; sallies were made at all hours; andincessant war prevailed. Perhaps this was an agreeable excitement to thedonkey-boys; or perhaps the more sagacious of the donkeys, understandinghow the case stood, delighted with constitutional obstinacy in comingthat way. I only know that there were three alarms before the bath wasready; and that on the occasion of the last and most desperate of all,I saw my aunt engage, single-handed, with a sandy-headed lad of fifteen,and bump his sandy head against her own gate, before he seemed tocomprehend what was the matter. These interruptions were of the moreridiculous to me, because she was giving me broth out of a table-spoonat the time (having firmly persuaded herself that I was actuallystarving, and must receive nourishment at first in very smallquantities), and, while my mouth was yet open to receive the spoon, shewould put it back into the basin, cry 'Janet! Donkeys!' and go out tothe assault.

The bath was a great comfort. For I began to be sensible of acute painsin my limbs from lying out in the fields, and was now so tired and lowthat I could hardly keep myself awake for five minutes together. When Ihad bathed, they (I mean my aunt and Janet) enrobed me in a shirt and apair of trousers belonging to Mr. Dick, and tied me up in two or threegreat shawls. What sort of bundle I looked like, I don't know, but Ifelt a very hot one. Feeling also very faint and drowsy, I soon lay downon the sofa again and fell asleep.

It might have been a dream, originating in the fancy which had occupiedmy mind so long, but I awoke with the impression that my aunt had comeand bent over me, and had put my hair away from my face, and laid myhead more comfortably, and had then stood looking at me. The words,'Pretty fellow,' or 'Poor fellow,' seemed to be in my ears, too; butcertainly there was nothing else, when I awoke, to lead me to believethat they had been uttered by my aunt, who sat in the bow-window gazingat the sea from behind the green fan, which was mounted on a kind ofswivel, and turned any way.

We dined soon after I awoke, off a roast fowl and a pudding; I sittingat table, not unlike a trussed bird myself, and moving my arms withconsiderable difficulty. But as my aunt had swathed me up, I made nocomplaint of being inconvenienced. All this time I was deeply anxiousto know what she was going to do with me; but she took her dinner inprofound silence, except when she occasionally fixed her eyes on mesitting opposite, and said, 'Mercy upon us!' which did not by any meansrelieve my anxiety.

The cloth being drawn, and some sherry put upon the table (of which Ihad a glass), my aunt sent up for Mr. Dick again, who joined us, andlooked as wise as he could when she requested him to attend to my story,which she elicited from me, gradually, by a course of questions. Duringmy recital, she kept her eyes on Mr. Dick, who I thought would have goneto sleep but for that, and who, whensoever he lapsed into a smile, waschecked by a frown from my aunt.

'Whatever possessed that poor unfortunate Baby, that she must go and bemarried again,' said my aunt, when I had finished, 'I can't conceive.'

'Perhaps she fell in love with her second husband,' Mr. Dick suggested.

'Fell in love!' repeated my aunt. 'What do you mean? What business hadshe to do it?'

'Perhaps,' Mr. Dick simpered, after thinking a little, 'she did it forpleasure.'

'Pleasure, indeed!' replied my aunt. 'A mighty pleasure for the poorBaby to fix her simple faith upon any dog of a fellow, certain toill-use her in some way or other. What did she propose to herself,I should like to know! She had had one husband. She had seen DavidCopperfield out of the world, who was always running after wax dollsfrom his cradle. She had got a baby--oh, there were a pair of babieswhen she gave birth to this child sitting here, that Friday night!--andwhat more did she want?'

Mr. Dick secretly shook his head at me, as if he thought there was nogetting over this.

'She couldn't even have a baby like anybody else,' said my aunt. 'Wherewas this child's sister, Betsey Trotwood? Not forthcoming. Don't tellme!'

Mr. Dick seemed quite frightened.

'That little man of a doctor, with his head on one side,' said my aunt,'Jellips, or whatever his name was, what was he about? All he could do,was to say to me, like a robin redbreast--as he is--"It's a boy." A boy!Yah, the imbecility of the whole set of 'em!'

The heartiness of the ejaculation startled Mr. Dick exceedingly; and me,too, if I am to tell the truth.

'And then, as if this was not enough, and she had not stood sufficientlyin the light of this child's sister, Betsey Trotwood,' said my aunt,'she marries a second time--goes and marries a Murderer--or a man witha name like it--and stands in THIS child's light! And the naturalconsequence is, as anybody but a baby might have foreseen, that heprowls and wanders. He's as like Cain before he was grown up, as he canbe.'

Mr. Dick looked hard at me, as if to identify me in this character.

'And then there's that woman with the Pagan name,' said my aunt, 'thatPeggotty, she goes and gets married next. Because she has not seenenough of the evil attending such things, she goes and gets marriednext, as the child relates. I only hope,' said my aunt, shaking herhead, 'that her husband is one of those Poker husbands who abound in thenewspapers, and will beat her well with one.'

I could not bear to hear my old nurse so decried, and made the subjectof such a wish. I told my aunt that indeed she was mistaken. ThatPeggotty was the best, the truest, the most faithful, most devoted, andmost self-denying friend and servant in the world; who had ever lovedme dearly, who had ever loved my mother dearly; who had held my mother'sdying head upon her arm, on whose face my mother had imprinted her lastgrateful kiss. And my remembrance of them both, choking me, I broke downas I was trying to say that her home was my home, and that all she hadwas mine, and that I would have gone to her for shelter, but for herhumble station, which made me fear that I might bring some trouble onher--I broke down, I say, as I was trying to say so, and laid my face inmy hands upon the table.

'Well, well!' said my aunt, 'the child is right to stand by those whohave stood by him--Janet! Donkeys!'

I thoroughly believe that but for those unfortunate donkeys, we shouldhave come to a good understanding; for my aunt had laid her hand on myshoulder, and the impulse was upon me, thus emboldened, to embrace herand beseech her protection. But the interruption, and the disorder shewas thrown into by the struggle outside, put an end to all softer ideasfor the present, and kept my aunt indignantly declaiming to Mr. Dickabout her determination to appeal for redress to the laws of hercountry, and to bring actions for trespass against the whole donkeyproprietorship of Dover, until tea-time.

After tea, we sat at the window--on the look-out, as I imagined, frommy aunt's sharp expression of face, for more invaders--until dusk, whenJanet set candles, and a backgammon-board, on the table, and pulled downthe blinds.

'Now, Mr. Dick,' said my aunt, with her grave look, and her forefingerup as before, 'I am going to ask you another question. Look at thischild.'

'David's son?' said Mr. Dick, with an attentive, puzzled face.

'Exactly so,' returned my aunt. 'What would you do with him, now?'

'Do with David's son?' said Mr. Dick.

'Ay,' replied my aunt, 'with David's son.'

'Oh!' said Mr. Dick. 'Yes. Do with--I should put him to bed.'

'Janet!' cried my aunt, with the same complacent triumph that I hadremarked before. 'Mr. Dick sets us all right. If the bed is ready, we'lltake him up to it.'

Janet reporting it to be quite ready, I was taken up to it; kindly, butin some sort like a prisoner; my aunt going in front and Janet bringingup the rear. The only circumstance which gave me any new hope, was myaunt's stopping on the stairs to inquire about a smell of fire that wasprevalent there; and janet's replying that she had been making tinderdown in the kitchen, of my old shirt. But there were no other clothes inmy room than the odd heap of things I wore; and when I was left there,with a little taper which my aunt forewarned me would burn exactly fiveminutes, I heard them lock my door on the outside. Turning these thingsover in my mind I deemed it possible that my aunt, who could knownothing of me, might suspect I had a habit of running away, and tookprecautions, on that account, to have me in safe keeping.

The room was a pleasant one, at the top of the house, overlooking thesea, on which the moon was shining brilliantly. After I had said myprayers, and the candle had burnt out, I remember how I still satlooking at the moonlight on the water, as if I could hope to read myfortune in it, as in a bright book; or to see my mother with her child,coming from Heaven, along that shining path, to look upon me as she hadlooked when I last saw her sweet face. I remember how the solemn feelingwith which at length I turned my eyes away, yielded to the sensation ofgratitude and rest which the sight of the white-curtained bed--and howmuch more the lying softly down upon it, nestling in the snow-whitesheets!--inspired. I remember how I thought of all the solitary placesunder the night sky where I had slept, and how I prayed that I nevermight be houseless any more, and never might forget the houseless. Iremember how I seemed to float, then, down the melancholy glory of thattrack upon the sea, away into the world of dreams.