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fancy to get it out of you。 To have something in for my money。”
“Ha！ You’re prudent； prudent； sir！” cries Grandfather
Smallweed； rubbing his legs。
“Very。 I always was。” Puff。 “It’s a sure sign of my prudence； that
I ever found the way here。” Puff。 “Also； that I am what I am。” Puff。
“I am well known to be prudent；” says Mr George； composedly
smoking。 “I rose in life； that way。”
“Don’t be down…hearted； sir。 You may rise yet。”
Mr George laughs and drinks。
“Ha’n’t you no relations； now；” asks Grandfather Smallweed；
with a twinkle in his eyes； “who would pay off this little principal；
or who would lend you a good name or two that I could persuade
my friend in the city to make you a further advance upon？ Two
good names would be sufficient for my friend in the city。 Ha’n’t
you no such relations； Mr George？”
Mr George； still composedly smoking； replies； “If I had； I
shouldn’t trouble them。 I have been trouble enough to my
belongings in my day。 It may be a very good sort of penitence in a
vagabond； who has wasted the best time of his life； to go back then
to decent people that he never was a credit to； and live upon them；
but it’s not my sort。 The best kind of amends then； for having gone
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away； is to keep away； in my opinion。”
“But natural affection； Mr George；” hints Grandfather
Smallweed。
“For two good names； hey？” says Mr George； shaking his head；
and still composedly smoking。 “No。 That’s not my sort； either。”
Grandfather Smallweed has been gradually sliding down in his
chair since his last adjustment； and is now a bundle of clothes；
with a voice in it calling for Judy。 That Houri appearing； shakes
him up in the usual manner； and is charged by the old gentleman
to remain near him。 For he seems chary of putting his visitor to
the trouble of repeating his late attentions。
“Ha！” he observes； when he is in trim again。 “If you could have
traced out the Captain； Mr George； it would have been the making
of you。 If； when you first came here； in consequence of our
advertisements in the newspapers—when I say ‘our；’ I’m alluding
to the advertisements of my friend in the city； and one or two
others who embark their capital in the same way； and are so
friendly towards me as sometimes to give me a lift with my little
pittance—if； at that time； you could have helped us； Mr George； it
would have been the making of you。”
“I was willing enough to be ‘made；’ as you call it；” says Mr
George； smoking not quite so placidly as before； for since the
entrance of Judy he has been in some measure disturbed by a
fascination； not of the admiring kind； which obliges him to look at
her as she stands by her grandfather’s chair； “but； on the whole； I
am glad I wasn’t now。”
“Why； Mr George？ In the name of—of Brimstone； why？” says
Grandfather Smallweed； with a plain appearance of exasperation。
（Brimstone apparently suggested by his eye lighting on Mrs
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Smallweed in her slumber。） “For two reasons； comrade。”
“And what two reasons； Mr George？ In the name of the—”
“Of our friend in the city？” suggests Mr George； composedly
drinking。
“Ay； if you like。 What two reasons？”
“In the first place；” returns Mr George； but still looking at Judy；
as if； she being so old and so like her grandfather； it is indifferent
which of the two he addresses； “you gentlemen took me in。 You
advertised that Mr Hawdon （Captain Hawdon； if you hold to the
saying； Once a captain always a captain） was to hear of something
of his advantage。”
“Well？” returns the old man； shrilly and sharply。
“Well！” says Mr George； smoking on。 “It wouldn’t have been
much to his advantage to have been clapped into prison by the
whole bill and judgment trade of London。”
“How do you know that？ Some of his rich relations might have
paid his debts； or compounded for ’em。 Besides； he had taken us
in。 He owed us immense sums； all round。 I would sooner have
strangled him than had no return。 If I sit here thinking of him；”
snarls the old man； holding up his impotent ten fingers； “I want to
strangle him now。” And in a sudden access of fury； he throws the
cushion at the unoffending Mrs Smallweed； but it passes
harmlessly on one side of her chair。
“I don’t need to be told；” returns the trooper； taking his pipe
from his lips for a moment； and carrying his eyes back from
following the progress of the cushion； to the pipe…bowl which is
burning low； “that he carried on heavily and went to ruin。 I have
been at his right hand many a day； when he was charging upon
ruin full…gallop。 I was with him； when he was sick and well； rich
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and poor。 I laid this hand upon him； after he had run through
everything and broken down everything beneath him—when he
held a pistol to his head。”
“I wish he had let it off！” says the benevolent old man； “and
blown his head into as many pieces as he owed pounds！”
“That would have been a smash indeed；” returns the trooper
coolly； “any way； he had been young； hopeful； and handsome in
the days gone by； and I am glad I never found him； when he was
neither； to lead to a result so much to his advantage。 That’s reason
number one。”
“I hope number two’s as good？” snarls the old man。
“Why； no。 It’s more of a selfish reason。 If I had found him； I
must have gone to the other world to look。 He was there。”
“How do you know he was there？”
“He wasn’t here。”
“How do you know he wasn’t here？”
“Don’t lose your temper as well as your money；” says Mr
George； calmly knocking the ashes out of his pipe。 “He was
drowned long before。 I am convinced of it。 He went over a ship’s
side。 Whether intentionally or accidentally； I don’t know。 Perhaps
your friend in the city does。—Do you know what that tune is； Mr
Smallweed？” he adds； after breaking off to whistle one；
accompanied on the table with the empty pipe。
“Tune！” replies the old man。 “No。 We never have tunes here。”
“That’s the Dead March in Saul。 They bury soldiers to it； so it’s
the natural end of the subject。 Now； if your pretty grand…
daughter—excuse me； miss—will condescend to take care of this
pipe for two months； we shall save the cost of one next time。 Good
evening； Mr Smallweed！”
Charles Dickens