VIII
Philosophical
They went back into the booth, Sleary shutting the door to keep intruders out. Bitzer, still holding the paralysed culprit by the collar, stood in the ring, blinking at his old patron through the darkness of the twilight.
тАЬBitzer,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, broken down, and miserably submissive to him, тАЬhave you a heart?тАЭ
тАЬThe circulation, sir,тАЭ returned Bitzer, smiling at the oddity of the question, тАЬcouldnтАЩt be carried on without one. No man, sir, acquainted with the facts established by Harvey relating to the circulation of the blood, can doubt that I have a heart.тАЭ
тАЬIs it accessible,тАЭ cried Mr.┬аGradgrind, тАЬto any compassionate influence?тАЭ
тАЬIt is accessible to reason, sir,тАЭ returned the excellent young man. тАЬAnd to nothing else.тАЭ
They stood looking at each other; Mr.┬аGradgrindтАЩs face as white as the pursuerтАЩs.
тАЬWhat motiveтБатАФeven what motive in reasonтБатАФcan you have for preventing the escape of this wretched youth,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, тАЬand crushing his miserable father? See his sister here. Pity us!тАЭ
тАЬSir,тАЭ returned Bitzer, in a very businesslike and logical manner, тАЬsince you ask me what motive I have in reason, for taking young Mr.┬аTom back to Coketown, it is only reasonable to let you know. I have suspected young Mr.┬аTom of this bank-robbery from the first. I had had my eye upon him before that time, for I knew his ways. I have kept my observations to myself, but I have made them; and I have got ample proofs against him now, besides his running away, and besides his own confession, which I was just in time to overhear. I had the pleasure of watching your house yesterday morning, and following you here. I am going to take young Mr.┬аTom back to Coketown, in order to deliver him over to Mr.┬аBounderby. Sir, I have no doubt whatever that Mr.┬аBounderby will then promote me to young Mr.┬аTomтАЩs situation. And I wish to have his situation, sir, for it will be a rise to me, and will do me good.тАЭ
тАЬIf this is solely a question of self-interest with youтБатАФтАЭ Mr.┬аGradgrind began.
тАЬI beg your pardon for interrupting you, sir,тАЭ returned Bitzer; тАЬbut I am sure you know that the whole social system is a question of self-interest. What you must always appeal to, is a personтАЩs self-interest. ItтАЩs your only hold. We are so constituted. I was brought up in that catechism when I was very young, sir, as you are aware.тАЭ
тАЬWhat sum of money,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, тАЬwill you set against your expected promotion?тАЭ
тАЬThank you, sir,тАЭ returned Bitzer, тАЬfor hinting at the proposal; but I will not set any sum against it. Knowing that your clear head would propose that alternative, I have gone over the calculations in my mind; and I find that to compound a felony, even on very high terms indeed, would not be as safe and good for me as my improved prospects in the Bank.тАЭ
тАЬBitzer,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, stretching out his hands as though he would have said, See how miserable I am! тАЬBitzer, I have but one chance left to soften you. You were many years at my school. If, in remembrance of the pains bestowed upon you there, you can persuade yourself in any degree to disregard your present interest and release my son, I entreat and pray you to give him the benefit of that remembrance.тАЭ
тАЬI really wonder, sir,тАЭ rejoined the old pupil in an argumentative manner, тАЬto find you taking a position so untenable. My schooling was paid for; it was a bargain; and when I came away, the bargain ended.тАЭ
It was a fundamental principle of the Gradgrind philosophy that everything was to be paid for. Nobody was ever on any account to give anybody anything, or render anybody help without purchase. Gratitude was to be abolished, and the virtues springing from it were not to be. Every inch of the existence of mankind, from birth to death, was to be a bargain across a counter. And if we didnтАЩt get to Heaven that way, it was not a politico-economical place, and we had no business there.
тАЬI donтАЩt deny,тАЭ added Bitzer, тАЬthat my schooling was cheap. But that comes right, sir. I was made in the cheapest market, and have to dispose of myself in the dearest.тАЭ
He was a little troubled here, by Louisa and Sissy crying.
тАЬPray donтАЩt do that,тАЭ said he, тАЬitтАЩs of no use doing that: it only worries. You seem to think that I have some animosity against young Mr.┬аTom; whereas I have none at all. I am only going, on the reasonable grounds I have mentioned, to take him back to Coketown. If he was to resist, I should set up the cry of Stop Thief! But, he wonтАЩt resist, you may depend upon it.тАЭ
Mr.┬аSleary, who with his mouth open and his rolling eye as immovably jammed in his head as his fixed one, had listened to these doctrines with profound attention, here stepped forward.
тАЬThquire, you know perfectly well, and your daughter knowth perfectly well (better than you, becauthe I thed it to her), that I didnтАЩt know what your thon had done, and that I didnтАЩt want to knowтБатАФI thed it wath better not, though I only thought, then, it wath thome thkylarking. However, thith young man having made it known to be a robbery of a bank, why, thatтАЩh a theriouth thing; muth too theriouth a thing for me to compound, ath thith young man hath very properly called it. Conthequently, Thquire, you muthnтАЩt quarrel with me if I take thith young manтАЩth thide, and thay heтАЩth right and thereтАЩth no help for it. But I tell you what IтАЩll do, Thquire; IтАЩll drive your thon and thith young man over to the rail, and prevent expothure here. I canтАЩt conthent to do more, but IтАЩll do that.тАЭ
Fresh lamentations from Louisa, and deeper affliction on Mr.┬аGradgrindтАЩs part, followed this desertion of them by their last friend. But, Sissy glanced at him with great attention; nor did she in her own breast misunderstand him. As they were all going out again, he favoured her with one slight roll of his movable eye, desiring her to linger behind. As he locked the door, he said excitedly:
тАЬThe Thquire thtood by you, Thethilia, and IтАЩll thtand by the Thquire. More than that: thith ith a prethiouth rathcal, and belongth to that bluthtering Cove that my people nearly pitht out oтАЩ winder. ItтАЩll be a dark night; IтАЩve got a horthe thatтАЩll do anything but thpeak; IтАЩve got a pony thatтАЩll go fifteen mile an hour with Childerth driving of him; IтАЩve got a dog thatтАЩll keep a man to one plathe four-and-twenty hourth. Get a word with the young Thquire. Tell him, when he theeth our horthe begin to danthe, not to be afraid of being thpilt, but to look out for a pony-gig coming up. Tell him, when he theeth that gig clothe by, to jump down, and itтАЩll take him off at a rattling pathe. If my dog leth thith young man thtir a peg on foot, I give him leave to go. And if my horthe ever thtirth from that thpot where he beginth a danthing, till the morningтБатАФI donтАЩt know him?тБатАФTharpтАЩth the word!тАЭ
The word was so sharp, that in ten minutes Mr.┬аChilders, sauntering about the marketplace in a pair of slippers, had his cue, and Mr.┬аSlearyтАЩs equipage was ready. It was a fine sight, to behold the learned dog barking round it, and Mr.┬аSleary instructing him, with his one practicable eye, that Bitzer was the object of his particular attentions. Soon after dark they all three got in and started; the learned dog (a formidable creature) already pinning Bitzer with his eye, and sticking close to the wheel on his side, that he might be ready for him in the event of his showing the slightest disposition to alight.
The other three sat up at the inn all night in great suspense. At eight oтАЩclock in the morning Mr.┬аSleary and the dog reappeared: both in high spirits.
тАЬAll right, Thquire!тАЭ said Mr.┬аSleary, тАЬyour thon may be aboard-a-thip by thith time. Childerth took him off, an hour and a half after we left there latht night. The horthe danthed the polka till he wath dead beat (he would have walthed if he hadnтАЩt been in harneth), and then I gave him the word and he went to thleep comfortable. When that prethiouth young Rathcal thed heтАЩd go forтАЩard afoot, the dog hung on to hith neck-hankercher with all four legth in the air and pulled him down and rolled him over. Tho he come back into the drag, and there he that, тАЩtill I turned the hortheтАЩth head, at half-patht thixth thith morning.тАЭ
Mr.┬аGradgrind overwhelmed him with thanks, of course; and hinted as delicately as he could, at a handsome remuneration in money.
тАЬI donтАЩt want money mythelf, Thquire; but Childerth ith a family man, and if you wath to like to offer him a five-pound note, it mightnтАЩt be unactheptable. Likewithe if you wath to thtand a collar for the dog, or a thet of bellth for the horthe, I thould be very glad to take тАЩem. Brandy and water I alwayth take.тАЭ He had already called for a glass, and now called for another. тАЬIf you wouldnтАЩt think it going too far, Thquire, to make a little thpread for the company at about three and thixth ahead, not reckoning Luth, it would make тАЩem happy.тАЭ
All these little tokens of his gratitude, Mr.┬аGradgrind very willingly undertook to render. Though he thought them far too slight, he said, for such a service.
тАЬVery well, Thquire; then, if youтАЩll only give a Horthe-Riding, a bethpeak, whenever you can, youтАЩll more than balanthe the account. Now, Thquire, if your daughter will ethcuthe me, I thould like one parting word with you.тАЭ
Louisa and Sissy withdrew into an adjoining room; Mr.┬аSleary, stirring and drinking his brandy and water as he stood, went on:
тАЬThquireтБатАФyou donтАЩt need to be told that dogth ith wonderful animalth.тАЭ
тАЬTheir instinct,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, тАЬis surprising.тАЭ
тАЬWhatever you call itтБатАФand IтАЩm bletht if I know what to call itтАЭтБатАФsaid Sleary, тАЬit ith athtonithing. The way in whith a dogтАЩll find youтБатАФthe dithtanthe heтАЩll come!тАЭ
тАЬHis scent,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, тАЬbeing so fine.тАЭ
тАЬIтАЩm bletht if I know what to call it,тАЭ repeated Sleary, shaking his head, тАЬbut I have had dogth find me, Thquire, in a way that made me think whether that dog hadnтАЩt gone to another dog, and thed, тАШYou donтАЩt happen to know a perthon of the name of Thleary, do you? Perthon of the name of Thleary, in the Horthe-Riding wayтБатАФthtout manтБатАФgame eye?тАЩ And whether that dog mightnтАЩt have thed, тАШWell, I canтАЩt thay I know him mythelf, but I know a dog that I think would be likely to be acquainted with him.тАЩ And whether that dog mightnтАЩt have thought it over, and thed, тАШThleary, Thleary! O yeth, to be thure! A friend of mine menthioned him to me at one time. I can get you hith addreth directly.тАЩ In conthequenth of my being afore the public, and going about tho muth, you thee, there mutht be a number of dogth acquainted with me, Thquire, that I donтАЩt know!тАЭ
Mr.┬аGradgrind seemed to be quite confounded by this speculation.
тАЬAny way,тАЭ said Sleary, after putting his lips to his brandy and water, тАЬith fourteen month ago, Thquire, thinthe we wath at Chethter. We wath getting up our Children in the Wood one morning, when there cometh into our Ring, by the thtage door, a dog. He had travelled a long way, he wath in a very bad condithon, he wath lame, and pretty well blind. He went round to our children, one after another, as if he wath a theeking for a child he knowтАЩd; and then he come to me, and throwd hithelf up behind, and thtood on hith two forelegth, weak ath he wath, and then he wagged hith tail and died. Thquire, that dog wath Merrylegth.тАЭ
тАЬSissyтАЩs fatherтАЩs dog!тАЭ
тАЬThethiliaтАЩth fatherтАЩth old dog. Now, Thquire, I can take my oath, from my knowledge of that dog, that that man wath deadтБатАФand buriedтБатАФafore that dog come back to me. JothтАЩphine and Childerth and me talked it over a long time, whether I thould write or not. But we agreed, тАШNo. ThereтАЩth nothing comfortable to tell; why unthettle her mind, and make her unhappy?тАЩ Tho, whether her father bathely detherted her; or whether he broke hith own heart alone, rather than pull her down along with him; never will be known, now, Thquire, tillтБатАФno, not till we know how the dogth findth uth out!тАЭ
тАЬShe keeps the bottle that he sent her for, to this hour; and she will believe in his affection to the last moment of her life,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind.
тАЬIt theemth to prethent two thingth to a perthon, donтАЩt it, Thquire?тАЭ said Mr.┬аSleary, musing as he looked down into the depths of his brandy and water: тАЬone, that there ith a love in the world, not all thelf-interetht after all, but thomething very different; tтАЩother, that it bath a way of ith own of calculating or not calculating, whith thomehow or another ith at leatht ath hard to give a name to, ath the wayth of the dogth ith!тАЭ
Mr.┬аGradgrind looked out of window, and made no reply. Mr.┬аSleary emptied his glass and recalled the ladies.
тАЬThethilia my dear, kith me and goodbye! Mith Thquire, to thee you treating of her like a thithter, and a thithter that you trutht and honour with all your heart and more, ith a very pretty thight to me. I hope your brother may live to be better detherving of you, and a greater comfort to you. Thquire, thake handth, firtht and latht! DonтАЩt be croth with uth poor vagabondth. People mutht be amuthed. They canтАЩt be alwayth a learning, nor yet they canтАЩt be alwayth a working, they anтАЩt made for it. You mutht have uth, Thquire. Do the withe thing and the kind thing too, and make the betht of uth; not the wurtht!тАЭ
тАЬAnd I never thought before,тАЭ said Mr.┬аSleary, putting his head in at the door again to say it, тАЬthat I wath tho muth of a cackler!тАЭ