The Old Curiosity Shop

Chapter 63

The professional gentleman who had given Kit the consolatory piece
of information relative to the settlement of his trifle of business
at the Old Bailey, and the probability of its being very soon
disposed of, turned out to be quite correct in his
prognostications. In eight days' time, the sessions commenced. In
one day afterwards, the Grand jury found a True Bill against
Christopher Nubbles for felony; and in two days from that finding,
the aforesaid Christopher Nubbles was called upon to plead Guilty
or Not Guilty to an Indictment for that he the said Christopher did
feloniously abstract and steal from the dwelling-house and office
of one Sampson Brass, gentleman, one Bank Note for Five Pounds
issued by the Governor and Company of the Bank of England; in
contravention of the Statutes in that case made and provided, and
against the peace of our Sovereign Lord the King, his crown and
dignity.

To this indictment, Christopher Nubbles, in a low and trembling
voice, pleaded Not Guilty; and here, let those who are in the habit
of forming hasty judgments from appearances, and who would have had
Christopher, if innocent, speak out very strong and loud, observe,
that confinement and anxiety will subdue the stoutest hearts; and
that to one who has been close shut up, though it be only for ten
or eleven days, seeing but stone walls and a very few stony faces,
the sudden entrance into a great hall filled with life, is a rather
disconcerting and startling circumstance. To this, it must be
added, that life in a wig is to a large class of people much more
terrifying and impressive than life with its own head of hair; and
if, in addition to these considerations, there be taken into
account Kit's natural emotion on seeing the two Mr Garlands and the
little Notary looking on with pale and anxious faces, it will
perhaps seem matter of no very great wonder that he should have
been rather out of sorts, and unable to make himself quite at home.

Although he had never seen either of the Mr Garlands, or Mr
Witherden, since the time of his arrest, he had been given to
understand that they had employed counsel for him. Therefore, when
one of the gentlemen in wigs got up and said 'I am for the
prisoner, my Lord,' Kit made him a bow; and when another gentleman
in a wig got up and said 'And I'm against him, my Lord,' Kit
trembled very much, and bowed to him too. And didn't he hope in
his own heart that his gentleman was a match for the other
gentleman, and would make him ashamed of himself in no time!

The gentleman who was against him had to speak first, and being in
dreadfully good spirits (for he had, in the last trial, very nearly
procured the acquittal of a young gentleman who had had the
misfortune to murder his father) he spoke up, you may be sure;
telling the jury that if they acquitted this prisoner they must
expect to suffer no less pangs and agonies than he had told the
other jury they would certainly undergo if they convicted that
prisoner. And when he had told them all about the case, and that
he had never known a worse case, he stopped a little while, like a
man who had something terrible to tell them, and then said that he
understood an attempt would be made by his learned friend (and here
he looked sideways at Kit's gentleman) to impeach the testimony of
those immaculate witnesses whom he should call before them; but he
did hope and trust that his learned friend would have a greater
respect and veneration for the character of the prosecutor; than
whom, as he well knew, there did not exist, and never had existed,
a more honourable member of that most honourable profession to
which he was attached. And then he said, did the jury know Bevis
Marks? And if they did know Bevis Marks (as he trusted for their
own character, they did) did they know the historical and elevating
associations connected with that most remarkable spot? Did they
believe that a man like Brass could reside in a place like Bevis
Marks, and not be a virtuous and most upright character? And when
he had said a great deal to them on this point, he remembered that
it was an insult to their understandings to make any remarks on
what they must have felt so strongly without him, and therefore
called Sampson Brass into the witness-box, straightway.

Then up comes Mr Brass, very brisk and fresh; and, having bowed to
the judge, like a man who has had the pleasure of seeing him
before, and who hopes he has been pretty well since their last
meeting, folds his arms, and looks at his gentleman as much as to
say 'Here I am--full of evidence--Tap me!' And the gentleman
does tap him presently, and with great discretion too; drawing off
the evidence by little and little, and making it run quite clear
and bright in the eyes of all present. Then, Kit's gentleman takes
him in hand, but can make nothing of him; and after a great many
very long questions and very short answers, Mr Sampson Brass goes
down in glory.

To him succeeds Sarah, who in like manner is easy to be managed by
Mr Brass's gentleman, but very obdurate to Kit's. In short, Kit's
gentleman can get nothing out of her but a repetition of what she
has said before (only a little stronger this time, as against his
client), and therefore lets her go, in some confusion. Then, Mr
Brass's gentleman calls Richard Swiveller, and Richard Swiveller
appears accordingly.

Now, Mr Brass's gentleman has it whispered in his ear that this
witness is disposed to be friendly to the prisoner--which, to say
the truth, he is rather glad to hear, as his strength is considered
to lie in what is familiarly termed badgering. Wherefore, he
begins by requesting the officer to be quite sure that this witness
kisses the book, then goes to work at him, tooth and nail.

'Mr Swiveller,' says this gentleman to Dick, when he had told his
tale with evident reluctance and a desire to make the best of it:
'Pray sir, where did you dine yesterday?'--'Where did I dine
yesterday?'--'Aye, sir, where did you dine yesterday--was it near
here, sir?'--'Oh to be sure--yes--just over the way.'--'To be sure.
Yes. just over the way,' repeats Mr Brass's gentleman, with a
glance at the court.--'Alone, sir?'--'I beg your pardon,' says Mr
Swiveller, who has not caught the question--'Alone, sir?' repeats
Mr Brass's gentleman in a voice of thunder, 'did you dine alone?
Did you treat anybody, sir? Come!'--'Oh yes, to be sure--yes, I
did,' says Mr Swiveller with a smile.--'Have the goodness to banish
a levity, sir, which is very ill-suited to the place in which you
stand (though perhaps you have reason to be thankful that it's only
that place),' says Mr Brass's gentleman, with a nod of the head,
insinuating that the dock is Mr Swiveller's legitimate sphere of
action; 'and attend to me. You were waiting about here, yesterday,
in expectation that this trial was coming on. You dined over the
way. You treated somebody. Now, was that somebody brother to the
prisoner at the bar?'--Mr Swiveller is proceeding to explain--'Yes
or No, sir,' cries Mr Brass's gentleman--'But will you allow me--'
--'Yes or No, sir'--'Yes it was, but--'--'Yes it was,' cries the
gentleman, taking him up short. 'And a very pretty witness YOU
are!'

Down sits Mr Brass's gentleman. Kit's gentleman, not knowing how
the matter really stands, is afraid to pursue the subject. Richard
Swiveller retires abashed. Judge, jury and spectators have visions
of his lounging about, with an ill-looking, large-whiskered,
dissolute young fellow of six feet high. The reality is, little
Jacob, with the calves of his legs exposed to the open air, and
himself tied up in a shawl. Nobody knows the truth; everybody
believes a falsehood; and all because of the ingenuity of Mr
Brass's gentleman.

Then come the witnesses to character, and here Mr Brass's gentleman
shines again. It turns out that Mr Garland has had no character
with Kit, no recommendation of him but from his own mother, and
that he was suddenly dismissed by his former master for unknown
reasons. 'Really Mr Garland,' says Mr Brass's gentleman, 'for a
person who has arrived at your time of life, you are, to say the
least of it, singularly indiscreet, I think.' The jury think so
too, and find Kit guilty. He is taken off, humbly protesting his
innocence. The spectators settle themselves in their places with
renewed attention, for there are several female witnesses to be
examined in the next case, and it has been rumoured that Mr Brass's
gentleman will make great fun in cross-examining them for the
prisoner.

Kit's mother, poor woman, is waiting at the grate below stairs,
accompanied by Barbara's mother (who, honest soul! never does
anything but cry, and hold the baby), and a sad interview ensues.
The newspaper-reading turnkey has told them all. He don't think it
will be transportation for life, because there's time to prove the
good character yet, and that is sure to serve him. He wonders what
he did it for. 'He never did it!' cries Kit's mother. 'Well,'
says the turnkey, 'I won't contradict you. It's all one, now,
whether he did it or not.'

Kit's mother can reach his hand through the bars, and she clasps it--
God, and those to whom he has given such tenderness, only know in
how much agony. Kit bids her keep a good heart, and, under
pretence of having the children lifted up to kiss him, prays
Barbara's mother in a whisper to take her home.

'Some friend will rise up for us, mother,' cried Kit, 'I am sure.
If not now, before long. My innocence will come out, mother, and
I shall be brought back again; I feel confidence in that. You must
teach little Jacob and the baby how all this was, for if they
thought I had ever been dishonest, when they grew old enough to
understand, it would break my heart to know it, if I was thousands
of miles away.--Oh! is there no good gentleman here, who will
take care of her!'

The hand slips out of his, for the poor creature sinks down upon
the earth, insensible. Richard Swiveller comes hastily up, elbows
the bystanders out of the way, takes her (after some trouble) in
one arm after the manner of theatrical ravishers, and, nodding to
Kit, and commanding Barbara's mother to follow, for he has a coach
waiting, bears her swiftly off.

Well; Richard took her home. And what astonishing absurdities in
the way of quotation from song and poem he perpetrated on the road,
no man knows. He took her home, and stayed till she was recovered;
and, having no money to pay the coach, went back in state to Bevis
Marks, bidding the driver (for it was Saturday night) wait at the
door while he went in for 'change.'

'Mr Richard, sir,' said Brass cheerfully, 'Good evening!'

Monstrous as Kit's tale had appeared, at first, Mr Richard did,
that night, half suspect his affable employer of some deep villany.
Perhaps it was but the misery he had just witnessed which gave his
careless nature this impulse; but, be that as it may, it was very
strong upon him, and he said in as few words as possible, what he
wanted.

'Money?' cried Brass, taking out his purse. 'Ha ha! To be sure,
Mr Richard, to be sure, sir. All men must live. You haven't
change for a five-pound note, have you sir?'

'No,' returned Dick, shortly.

'Oh!' said Brass, 'here's the very sum. That saves trouble.
You're very welcome I'm sure.--Mr Richard, sir--'
Dick, who had by this time reached the door, turned round.

'You needn't,' said Brass, 'trouble yourself to come back any more,
Sir.'

'Eh?'

'You see, Mr Richard,' said Brass, thrusting his hands in his
pockets, and rocking himself to and fro on his stool, 'the fact is,
that a man of your abilities is lost, Sir, quite lost, in our dry
and mouldy line. It's terrible drudgery--shocking. I should say,
now, that the stage, or the--or the army, Mr Richard--or
something very superior in the licensed victualling way--was the
kind of thing that would call out the genius of such a man as you.
I hope you'll look in to see us now and then. Sally, Sir, will be
delighted I'm sure. She's extremely sorry to lose you, Mr Richard,
but a sense of her duty to society reconciles her. An amazing
creature that, sir! You'll find the money quite correct, I think.
There's a cracked window sir, but I've not made any deduction on
that account. Whenever we part with friends, Mr Richard, let us
part liberally. A delightful sentiment, sir!'

To all these rambling observations, Mr Swiveller answered not one
word, but, returning for the aquatic jacket, rolled it into a tight
round ball: looking steadily at Brass meanwhile as if he had some
intention of bowling him down with it. He only took it under his
arm, however, and marched out of the office in profound silence.
When he had closed the door, he re-opened it, stared in again for
a few moments with the same portentous gravity, and nodding his
head once, in a slow and ghost-like manner, vanished.

He paid the coachman, and turned his back on Bevis Marks, big with
great designs for the comforting of Kit's mother and the aid of Kit
himself.

But the lives of gentlemen devoted to such pleasures as Richard
Swiveller, are extremely precarious. The spiritual excitement of
the last fortnight, working upon a system affected in no slight
degree by the spirituous excitement of some years, proved a little
too much for him. That very night, Mr Richard was seized with an
alarming illness, and in twenty-four hours was stricken with a
raging fever.