Charles Dickens

You would be infinitely better in

Clarriker's house, small as it is. I am working up towards a

partnership, you know."

Poor fellow! He little suspected with whose money.

"But there is another question," said Herbert. "This is an ignorant

determined man, who has long had one fixed idea. More than that, he

seems to me (I may misjudge him) to be a man of a desperate and

fierce character."

"I know he is," I returned. "Let me tell you what evidence I have

seen of it." And I told him what I had not mentioned in my

narrative; of that encounter with the other convict.

"See, then," said Herbert; "think of this! He comes here at the

peril of his life, for the realization of his fixed idea. In the

moment of realization, after all his toil and waiting, you cut the

ground from under his feet, destroy his idea, and make his gains

worthless to him. Do you see nothing that he might do, under the

disappointment?"

"I have seen it, Herbert, and dreamed of it, ever since the fatal

night of his arrival. Nothing has been in my thoughts so

distinctly, as his putting himself in the way of being taken."

"Then you may rely upon it," said Herbert, "that there would be

great danger of his doing it. That is his power over you as long as

he remains in England, and that would be his reckless course if you

forsook him."

I was so struck by the horror of this idea, which had weighed upon

me from the first, and the working out of which would make me

regard myself, in some sort, as his murderer, that I could not rest

in my chair but began pacing to and fro. I said to Herbert,

meanwhile, that even if Provis were recognized and taken, in spite

of himself, I should be wretched as the cause, however innocently.

Yes; even though I was so wretched in having him at large and near

me, and even though I would far far rather have worked at the forge

all the days of my life than I would ever have come to this!

But there was no staving off the question, What was to be done?

"The first and the main thing to be done," said Herbert, "is to get

him out of England. You will have to go with him, and then he may

be induced to go."

"But get him where I will, could I prevent his coming back?"

"My good Handel, is it not obvious that with Newgate in the next

street, there must be far greater hazard in your breaking your mind

to him and making him reckless, here, than elsewhere. If a pretext

to get him away could be made out of that other convict, or out of

anything else in his life, now."

"There, again!" said I, stopping before Herbert, with my open hands

held out, as if they contained the desperation of the case. "I know

nothing of his life. It has almost made me mad to sit here of a

night and see him before me, so bound up with my fortunes and

misfortunes, and yet so unknown to me, except as the miserable

wretch who terrified me two days in my childhood!"

Herbert got up, and linked his arm in mine, and we slowly walked to

and fro together, studying the carpet.

"Handel," said Herbert, stopping, "you feel convinced that you can

take no further benefits from him; do you?"

"Fully. Surely you would, too, if you were in my place?"

"And you feel convinced that you must break with him?"

"Herbert, can you ask me?"

"And you have, and are bound to have, that tenderness for the life

he has risked on your account, that you must save him, if possible,

from throwing it away. Then you must get him out of England before

you stir a finger to extricate yourself. That done, extricate

yourself, in Heaven's name, and we'll see it out together, dear old

boy."

It was a comfort to shake hands upon it, and walk up and down

again, with only that done.

"Now, Herbert," said I, "with reference to gaining some knowledge

of his history. There is but one way that I know of. I must ask him

point-blank."

"Yes. Ask him," said Herbert, "when we sit at breakfast in the

morning." For, he had said, on taking leave of Herbert, that he

would come to breakfast with us.