He

touched me gently on the forehead, and went out. As soon as I could

recover myself sufficiently, I hurried out after him and looked for

him in the neighbouring streets; but he was gone.

Chapter 28

It was clear that I must repair to our town next day, and in the

first flow of my repentance it was equally clear that I must stay

at Joe's. But, when I had secured my box-place by to-morrow's coach

and had been down to Mr. Pocket's and back, I was not by any means

convinced on the last point, and began to invent reasons and make

excuses for putting up at the Blue Boar. I should be an

inconvenience at Joe's; I was not expected, and my bed would not be

ready; I should be too far from Miss Havisham's, and she was

exacting and mightn't like it. All other swindlers upon earth are

nothing to the self-swindlers, and with such pretences did I cheat

myself. Surely a curious thing. That I should innocently take a bad

half-crown of somebody else's manufacture, is reasonable enough;

but that I should knowingly reckon the spurious coin of my own

make, as good money! An obliging stranger, under pretence of

compactly folding up my bank-notes for security's sake, abstracts

the notes and gives me nutshells; but what is his sleight of hand

to mine, when I fold up my own nutshells and pass them on myself as

notes!

Having settled that I must go to the Blue Boar, my mind was much

disturbed by indecision whether or not to take the Avenger. It was

tempting to think of that expensive Mercenary publicly airing his

boots in the archway of the Blue Boar's posting-yard; it was almost

solemn to imagine him casually produced in the tailor's shop and

confounding the disrespectful senses of Trabb's boy. On the other

hand, Trabb's boy might worm himself into his intimacy and tell him

things; or, reckless and desperate wretch as I knew he could be,

might hoot him in the High-street, My patroness, too, might hear of

him, and not approve. On the whole, I resolved to leave the Avenger

behind.

It was the afternoon coach by which I had taken my place, and, as

winter had now come round, I should not arrive at my destination

until two or three hours after dark. Our time of starting from the

Cross Keys was two o'clock. I arrived on the ground with a quarter

of an hour to spare, attended by the Avenger - if I may connect

that expression with one who never attended on me if he could

possibly help it.

At that time it was customary to carry Convicts down to the

dockyards by stage-coach. As I had often heard of them in the

capacity of outside passengers, and had more than once seen them on

the high road dangling their ironed legs over the coach roof, I had

no cause to be surprised when Herbert, meeting me in the yard, came

up and told me there were two convicts going down with me. But I

had a reason that was an old reason now, for constitutionally

faltering whenever I heard the word convict.

"You don't mind them, Handel?" said Herbert.

"Oh no!"

"I thought you seemed as if you didn't like them?"

"I can't pretend that I do like them, and I suppose you don't

particularly. But I don't mind them."

"See! There they are," said Herbert, "coming out of the Tap. What a

degraded and vile sight it is!"

They had been treating their guard, I suppose, for they had a

gaoler with them, and all three came out wiping their mouths on

their hands. The two convicts were handcuffed together, and had

irons on their legs - irons of a pattern that I knew well. They

wore the dress that I likewise knew well. Their keeper had a brace

of pistols, and carried a thick-knobbed bludgeon under his arm; but

he was on terms of good understanding with them, and stood, with

them beside him, looking on at the putting-to of the horses, rather

with an air as if the convicts were an interesting Exhibition not

formally open at the moment, and he the Curator.