Arthur lived at the top of Compeyson's house (over nigh

Brentford it was), and Compeyson kept a careful account agen him

for board and lodging, in case he should ever get better to work it

out. But Arthur soon settled the account. The second or third time

as ever I see him, he come a-tearing down into Compeyson's parlour

late at night, in only a flannel gown, with his hair all in a

sweat, and he says to Compeyson's wife, 'Sally, she really is

upstairs alonger me, now, and I can't get rid of her. She's all in

white,' he says, 'wi' white flowers in her hair, and she's awful

mad, and she's got a shroud hanging over her arm, and she says

she'll put it on me at five in the morning.'

"Says Compeyson: 'Why, you fool, don't you know she's got a living

body? And how should she be up there, without coming through the

door, or in at the window, and up the stairs?'

"'I don't know how she's there,' says Arthur, shivering dreadful

with the horrors, 'but she's standing in the corner at the foot of

the bed, awful mad. And over where her heart's brook - you broke

it! - there's drops of blood.'

"Compeyson spoke hardy, but he was always a coward. 'Go up alonger

this drivelling sick man,' he says to his wife, 'and Magwitch, lend

her a hand, will you?' But he never come nigh himself.

"Compeyson's wife and me took him up to bed agen, and he raved most

dreadful. 'Why look at her!' he cries out. 'She's a-shaking the

shroud at me! Don't you see her? Look at her eyes! Ain't it awful to

see her so mad?' Next, he cries, 'She'll put it on me, and then I'm

done for! Take it away from her, take it away!' And then he catched

hold of us, and kep on a-talking to her, and answering of her, till

I half believed I see her myself.

"Compeyson's wife, being used to him, giv him some liquor to get

the horrors off, and by-and-by he quieted. 'Oh, she's gone! Has her

keeper been for her?' he says. 'Yes,' says Compeyson's wife. 'Did

you tell him to lock her and bar her in?' 'Yes.' 'And to take that

ugly thing away from her?' 'Yes, yes, all right.' 'You're a good

creetur,' he says, 'don't leave me, whatever you do, and thank

you!'

"He rested pretty quiet till it might want a few minutes of five,

and then he starts up with a scream, and screams out, 'Here she

is! She's got the shroud again. She's unfolding it. She's coming out

of the corner. She's coming to the bed. Hold me, both on you - one

of each side - don't let her touch me with it. Hah! she missed me

that time. Don't let her throw it over my shoulders. Don't let her

lift me up to get it round me. She's lifting me up. Keep me down!'

Then he lifted himself up hard, and was dead.

"Compeyson took it easy as a good riddance for both sides. Him and

me was soon busy, and first he swore me (being ever artful) on my

own book - this here little black book, dear boy, what I swore your

comrade on.

"Not to go into the things that Compeyson planned, and I done -

which 'ud take a week - I'll simply say to you, dear boy, and Pip's

comrade, that that man got me into such nets as made me his black

slave. I was always in debt to him, always under his thumb, always

a-working, always a-getting into danger. He was younger than me,

but he'd got craft, and he'd got learning, and he overmatched me

five hundred times told and no mercy. My Missis as I had the hard

time wi' - Stop though! I ain't brought her in--"

He looked about him in a confused way, as if he had lost his place

in the book of his remembrance; and he turned his face to the fire,

and spread his hands broader on his knees, and lifted them off and

put them on again.

"There ain't no need to go into it," he said, looking round once

more. "The time wi' Compeyson was a'most as hard a time as ever I

had; that said, all's said. Did I tell you as I was tried, alone,

for misdemeanour, while with Compeyson?"

I answered, No.