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of my own accord。”
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
… Page 621…
Bleak House 621
“And now；” says Tony； stirring the fire； “touching this same
bundle of letters。 Isn’t it an extraordinary thing of Krook to have
appointed twelve o’clock tonight to hand ’em over to me？”
“Very。 What did he do it for？”
“What does he do anything for？ He don’t know。 Said； today was
his birthday； and he’d hand ’em over tonight at twelve o’clock。
He’ll have drunk himself blind by that time。 He has been at it all
day。”
“He hasn’t forgotten the appointment； I hope？”
“Forgotten？ Trust him for that。 He never forgets anything。 I
saw him tonight； about eight—helped him to shut up his shop—
and he had got the letters then in his hairy cap。 He pulled it off；
and showed ’em me。 When the shop was closed； he took them out
of his cap； hung his cap on the chair…back； and stood turning them
over before the fire。 I heard him a little while afterwards through
the floor here； humming； like the wind； the only song he knows—
about Bibo； and old Charon； and Bibo being drunk when he died；
or something or other。 He has been as quiet； since； as an old rat
asleep in his hole。”
“And you are to go down at twelve？”
“At twelve。 And； as I tell you； when you came it seemed to me a
hundred。”
“Tony；” says Mr Guppy； after considering a little with his legs
crossed； “he can’t read yet； can he？”
“Read！ He’ll never read。 He can make all the letters separately；
and he knows most of them separately when he sees them； he has
got on that much； under me； but he can’t put them together。 He’s
too old to acquire the knack of it now—and too drunk。”
“Tony；” says Mr Guppy； uncrossing and recrossing his legs；
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
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Bleak House 622
“how do you suppose he spelt out that name of Hawdon？”
“He never spelt it out。 You know what a curious power of eye
he has； and how he has been used to employ himself in copying
things by eye alone。 He imitated it—evidently from the direction of
a letter； and asked me what it meant。”
“Tony；” said Mr Guppy； uncrossing and recrossing his legs
again； “should you say that the original was a man’s writing or a
woman’s？”
“A woman’s。 Fifty to one a lady’s—slopes a good deal； and the
end of the letter ‘n；’ long and hasty。”
Mr Guppy has been biting his thumbnail during this dialogue；
generally changing the thumb when he has changed the crossed
leg。 As he is going to do so again； he happens to look at his coat…
sleeve。 It takes his attention。 He stares at it； aghast。
“Why； Tony； what on earth is going on in this house tonight？ Is
there a chimney on fire？”
“Chimney on fire！”
“Ah！” returns Mr Guppy。 “See how the soot’s falling。 See here；
on my arm！ See again； on the table here！ Confound the stuff； it
won’t blow off—smears； like black fat！”
They look at one another； and Tony goes listening to the door；
and a little way upstairs； and a little way downstairs。 Comes back；
and says it’s all right； and all quiet； and quotes the remark he
lately made to Mr Snagsby； about their cooking chops at the Sol’s
Arms。
“And it was then；” resumes Mr Guppy； still glancing with
remarkable aversion at his coat…sleeve； as they pursue their
conversation before the fire； leaning on opposite sides of the table；
with their heads very near together； “that he told you of his having
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
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Bleak House 623
taken the bundle of letters from his lodger’s portmanteau？”
“That was the time； sir；” answered Tony； faintly adjusting his
whiskers。 “Whereupon I wrote a line to my dear boy； the
Honourable William Guppy； informing him of the appointment for
tonight； and advising him not to call before： Boguey being a
Slyboots。”
The light vivacious tone of fashionable life which is usually
assumed by Mr Weevle； sits so ill upon him tonight； that he
abandons that and his whiskers together； and； after looking over
his shoulder； appears to yield himself up； a prey to the horrors
again。
“You are to bring the letters to your room to read and compare；
and to get yourself into a position to tell him all about them。 That’s
the arrangement； isn’t it； Tony？” asks Mr Guppy； anxiously biting
his thumbnail。
“You can’t speak too low。 Yes。 That’s what he and I agreed。”
“I tell you what； Tony—”
“You can’t speak too low；” says Tony once more。 Mr Guppy
nods his sagacious head； advances it yet closer； and drops into a
whisper。
“I tell you what。 The first thing to be done is； to make another
packet； like the real one； so that； if he should ask to see the real
one while it’s in my possession； you can show him the dummy。”
“And suppose he detects the dummy as soon as he sees it—
which with his biting screw of an eye is about five hundred times
more likely than not；” suggests Tony。
“Then we’ll face it out。 They don’t belong to him； and they
never did。 You found that； and you placed them in my hands—a
legal friend of yours—for security。 If he forces us to it； they’ll be
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Bleak House 624
producible； won’t they？”
“Ye…es；” is Mr Weevle’s reluctant admission。
“Why； Tony；” remonstrates his friend； “how you look！ You don’t
doubt William Guppy？ You don’t suspect any harm？”
“I don’t suspect anything more than I know； William；” returned
the other； gravely。
“And what do you know？” urges Mr Guppy； raising his voice a
little； but on his friend’s once more warning him； “I tell you； you
can’t speak too low；” he repeats his question without any sound at
all； forming with his lips only the words； “What do you know？”
“I know three things。 First； I know that here we are whispering
in secrecy； a pair of conspirators。”
“Well！” says Mr Guppy； “and we had better be that； than the
pair of noodles； which we should be； if we were doing anything
else； for it’s the only way of doing what we want to do。 Secondly？”
“Secondly； it’s not made out to me how it’s likely to be
profitable； after all。”
Mr Guppy casts up his eyes at the portrait of Lady Dedlock over
the mantel…shelf； and replies； “Tony； you are asked to leave that to
the honour of your friend。 Besides its being calculated to serve
that friend； in those chords of the human mind which—which
need not be called into agonising vibration on the present
occasion—your friend is no fool。 What’s that？”
“It’s eleven o’clock striking by the bell of Saint Paul’s。 Liste