"We say these are not marks of finger-nails, but marks of brambles,

and we show you the brambles. You say they are marks of

finger-nails, and you set up the hypothesis that she destroyed her

child. You must accept all consequences of that hypothesis. For

anything we know, she may have destroyed her child, and the child

in clinging to her may have scratched her hands. What then? You are

not trying her for the murder of her child; why don't you? As to

this case, if you will have scratches, we say that, for anything we

know, you may have accounted for them, assuming for the sake of

argument that you have not invented them!" To sum up, sir," said

Wemmick, "Mr. Jaggers was altogether too many for the Jury, and they

gave in."

"Has she been in his service ever since?"

"Yes; but not only that," said Wemmick. "She went into his service

immediately after her acquittal, tamed as she is now. She has since

been taught one thing and another in the way of her duties, but she

was tamed from the beginning."

"Do you remember the sex of the child?"

"Said to have been a girl."

"You have nothing more to say to me to-night?"

"Nothing. I got your letter and destroyed it. Nothing."

We exchanged a cordial Good Night, and I went home, with new matter

for my thoughts, though with no relief from the old.

Chapter 49

Putting Miss Havisham's note in my pocket, that it might serve as

my credentials for so soon reappearing at Satis House, in case her

waywardness should lead her to express any surprise at seeing me, I

went down again by the coach next day. But I alighted at the

Halfway House, and breakfasted there, and walked the rest of the

distance; for, I sought to get into the town quietly by the

unfrequented ways, and to leave it in the same manner.

The best light of the day was gone when I passed along the quiet

echoing courts behind the High-street. The nooks of ruin where the

old monks had once had their refectories and gardens, and where the

strong walls were now pressed into the service of humble sheds and

stables, were almost as silent as the old monks in their graves.

The cathedral chimes had at once a sadder and a more remote sound

to me, as I hurried on avoiding observation, than they had ever had

before; so, the swell of the old organ was borne to my ears like

funeral music; and the rooks, as they hovered about the grey tower

and swung in the bare high trees of the priory-garden, seemed to

call to me that the place was changed, and that Estella was gone

out of it for ever.

An elderly woman whom I had seen before as one of the servants who

lived in the supplementary house across the back court-yard, opened

the gate. The lighted candle stood in the dark passage within, as

of old, and I took it up and ascended the staircase alone. Miss

Havisham was not in her own room, but was in the larger room across

the landing. Looking in at the door, after knocking in vain, I saw

her sitting on the hearth in a ragged chair, close before, and lost

in the contemplation of, the ashy fire.

Doing as I had often done, I went in, and stood, touching the old

chimney-piece, where she could see me when she raised her eyes.

There was an air or utter loneliness upon her, that would have

moved me to pity though she had wilfully done me a deeper injury

than I could charge her with. As I stood compassionating her, and

thinking how in the progress of time I too had come to be a part of

the wrecked fortunes of that house, her eyes rested on me. She

stared, and said in a low voice, "Is it real?"

"It is I, Pip. Mr. Jaggers gave me your note yesterday, and I have

lost no time."

"Thank you. Thank you."

As I brought another of the ragged chairs to the hearth and sat

down, I remarked a new expression on her face, as if she were

afraid of me.

"I want," she said, "to pursue that subject you mentioned to me

when you were last here, and to show you that I am not all stone.