Chapter 20

THE journey from our town to the metropolis, was a journey of about five hours. It was a little past mid-day when the fourhorse stage-coach by which I was a passenger, got into the ravel of traffic frayed out about the Cross Keys, Wood-street, Cheapside, London.
We Britons had at that time particularly settled that it was treasonable to doubt our having and our being the best of everything: otherwise, while I was scared by the immensity of London, I think I might have had some faint doubts whether it was not rather ugly, crooked, narrow, and dirty.

Mr Jaggers had duly sent me his address; it was, Little Britain, and he had written after it on his card, `just out of Smithfield, and close by the coach-office.' Nevertheless, a hackney-coachman, who seemed to have as many capes to his greasy great-coat as he was years old, packed me up in his coach and hemmed me in with a folding and jingling barrier of steps, as if he were going to take me fifty miles. His getting on his box, which I remember to have been decorated with an old weather-stained pea-green hammercloth moth-eaten into rags, was quite a work of time. It was a wonderful equipage, with six great coronets outside, and ragged things behind for I don't know how many footmen to hold on by, and a harrow below them, to prevent amateur footmen from yielding to the temptation.

I had scarcely had time to enjoy the coach and to think how like a straw-yard it was, and yet how like a rag-shop, and to wonder why the horses' nose-bags were kept inside, when I observed the coachman beginning to get down, as if we were going to stop presently. And stop we presently did, in a gloomy street, at certain offices with an open door, whereon was painted MR. JAGGERS.

`How much?' I asked the coachman.

The coachman answered, `A shilling - unless you wish to make it more.'

I naturally said I had no wish to make it more.

`Then it must be a shilling,' observed the coachman. `I don't want to get into trouble. I know him!' He darkly closed an eye at Mr Jaggers's name, and shook his head.

When he had got his shilling, and had in course of time completed the ascent to his box, and had got away (which appeared to relieve his mind), I went into the front office with my little portmanteau in my hand and asked, Was Mr Jaggers at home?

`He is not,' returned the clerk. `He is in Court at present. Am I addressing Mr Pip?'

I signified that he was addressing Mr Pip.

`Mr Jaggers left word would you wait in his room. He couldn't say how long he might be, having a case on. But it stands to reason, his time being valuable, that he won't be longer than he can help.'

With those words, the clerk opened a door, and ushered me into an inner chamber at the back. Here, we found a gentleman with one eye, in a velveteen suit and knee-breeches, who wiped his nose with his sleeve on being interrupted in the perusal of the newspaper.

`Go and wait outside, Mike,' said the clerk.

I began to say that I hoped I was not interrupting - when the clerk shoved this gentleman out with as little ceremony as I ever saw used, and tossing his fur cap out after him, left me alone.

Mr Jaggers's room was lighted by a skylight only, and was a most dismal place; the skylight, eccentrically patched like a broken head, and the distorted adjoining houses looking as if they had twisted themselves to peep down at me through it. There were not so many papers about, as I should have expected to see; and there were some odd objects about, that I should not have expected to see - such as an old rusty pistol, a sword in a scabbard, several strange-looking boxes and packages, and two dreadful casts on a shelf, of faces peculiarly swollen, and twitchy about the nose. Mr Jaggers's own high-backed chair was of deadly black horse-hair, with rows of brass nails round it, like a coffin; and I fancied I could see how he leaned back in it, and bit his forefinger at the clients. The room was but small, and the clients seemed to have had a habit of backing up against the wall: the wall, especially opposite to Mr Jaggers's chair, being greasy with shoulders. I recalled, too, that the one-eyed gentleman had shuffled forth against the wall when I was the innocent cause of his being turned out.

I sat down in the cliental chair placed over against Mr Jaggers's chair, and became fascinated by the dismal atmosphere of the place. I called to mind that the clerk had the same air of knowing something to everybody else's disadvantage, as his master had. I wondered how many other clerks there were up-stairs, and whether they all claimed to have the same detrimental mastery of their fellow-creatures. I wondered what was the history of all the odd litter about the room, and how it came there. I wondered whether the two swollen faces were of Mr Jaggers's family, and, if he were so unfortunate as to have had a pair of such ill-looking relations, why he stuck them on that dusty perch for the blacks and flies to settle on, instead of giving them a place at home. Of course I had no experience of a London summer day, and my spirits may have been oppressed by the hot exhausted air, and by the dust and grit that lay thick on everything. But I sat wondering and waiting in Mr Jaggers's close room, until I really could not bear the two casts on the shelf above Mr Jaggers's chair, and got up and went out.

When I told the clerk that I would take a turn in the air while I waited, he advised me to go round the corner and I should come into Smithfield. So, I came into Smithfield; and the shameful place, being all asmear with filth and fat and blood and foam, seemed to stick to me. So, I rubbed it off with all possible speed by turning into a street where I saw the great black dome of Saint Paul's bulging at me from behind a grim stone building which a bystander said was Newgate Prison. Following the wall of the jail, I found the roadway covered with straw to deaden the noise of passing vehicles; and from this, and from the quantity of people standing about, smelling strongly of spirits and beer, I inferred that the trials were on.

While I looked about me here, an exceedingly dirty and partially drunk minister of justice asked me if I would like to step in and hear a trial or so: informing me that he could give me a front place for half-a-crown, whence I should command a full view of the Lord Chief Justice in his wig and robes - mentioning that awful personage like waxwork, and presently offering him at the reduced price of eighteenpence. As I declined the proposal on the plea of an appointment, he was so good as to take me into a yard and show me where the gallows was kept, and also where people were publicly whipped, and then he showed me the Debtors' Door, out of which culprits came to be hanged: heightening the interest of that dreadful portal by giving me to understand that `four on 'em' would come out at that door the day after to-morrow at eight in the morning, to be killed in a row. This was horrible, and gave me a sickening idea of London: the more so as the Lord Chief Justice's proprietor wore (from his hat down to his boots and up again to his pocket-handkerchief inclusive) mildewed clothes, which had evidently not belonged to him originally, and which, I took it into my head, he had bought cheap of the executioner. Under these circumstances I thought myself well rid of him for a shilling.

I dropped into the office to ask if Mr Jaggers had come in yet, and I found he had not, and I strolled out again. This time, I made the tour of Little Britain, and turned into Bartholomew Close; and now I became aware that other people were waiting about for Mr Jaggers, as well as I. There were two men of secret appearance lounging in Bartholomew Close, and thoughtfully fitting their feet into the cracks of the pavement as they talked together, one of whom said to the other when they first passed me, that `Jaggers would do it if it was to be done.' There was a knot of three men and two women standing at a corner, and one of the women was crying on her dirty shawl, and the other comforted her by saying, as she pulled her own shawl over her shoulders, `Jaggers is for him, 'Melia, and what more could you have?' There was a red-eyed little Jew who came into the Close while I was loitering there, in company with a second little Jew whom he sent upon an errand; and while the messenger was gone, I remarked this Jew, who was of a highly excitable temperament, performing a jig of anxiety under a lamp-post and accompanying himself, in a kind of frenzy, with the words, `Oh Jaggerth, Jaggerth, Jaggerth! all otherth ith Cag-Maggerth, give me Jaggerth!' These testimonies to the popularity of my guardian made a deep impression on me, and I admired and wondered more than ever.

At length, as I was looking out at the iron gate of Bartholomew Close into Little Britain, I saw Mr Jaggers coming across the road towards me. All the others who were waiting, saw him at the same time, and there was quite a rush at him. Mr Jaggers, putting a hand on my shoulder and walking me on at his side without saying anything to me, addressed himself to his followers.

First, he took the two secret men.

`Now, I have nothing to say to you,' said Mr Jaggers, throwing his finger at them. `I want to know no more than I know. As to the result, it's a toss-up. I told you from the first it was toss-up. Have you paid Wemmick?'

`We made the money up this morning, sir,' said one of the men, submissively, while the other perused Mr Jaggers's face.

`I don't ask you when you made it up, or where, or whether you made it up at all. Has Wemmick got it?'

`Yes, sir,' said both the men together.

`Very well; then you may go. Now, I won't have it!' said Mr Jaggers, waving his hand at them to put them behind him. `If you say a word to me, I'll throw up the case.'

`We thought, Mr Jaggers--' one of the men began, pulling off his hat.

`That's what I told you not to do,' said Mr Jaggers. `You thought! I think for you; that's enough for you. If I want you, I know where to find you; I don't want you to find me. Now I won't have it. I won't hear a word.'

The two men looked at one another as Mr Jaggers waved them behind again, and humbly fell back and were heard no more.

`And now you!' said Mr Jaggers, suddenly stopping, and turning on the two women with the shawls, from whom the three men had meekly separated. - `Oh! Amelia, is it?'

`Yes, Mr Jaggers.'

`And do you remember,' retorted Mr Jaggers, `that but for me you wouldn't be here and couldn't be here?'

`Oh yes, sir!' exclaimed both women together. `Lord bless you, sir, well we knows that!'

`Then why,' said Mr Jaggers, `do you come here?'

`My Bill, sir!' the crying woman pleaded.

`Now, I tell you what!' said Mr Jaggers. `Once for all. If you don't know that your Bill's in good hands, I know it. And if you come here, bothering about your Bill, I'll make an example of both your Bill and you, and let him slip through my fingers. Have you paid Wemmick?'

`Oh yes, sir! Every farden.'

`Very well. Then you have done all you have got to do. Say another word - one single word - and Wemmick shall give you your money back.'

This terrible threat caused the two women to fall off immediately. No one remained now but the excitable Jew, who had already raised the skirts of Mr Jaggers's coat to his lips several times.

`I don't know this man!' said Mr Jaggers, in the same devastating strain: `What does this fellow want?'

`Ma thear Mithter Jaggerth. Hown brother to Habraham Latharuth?'

`Who's he?' said Mr Jaggers. `Let go of my coat.'

The suitor, kissing the hem of the garment again before relinquishing it, replied, `Habraham Latharuth, on thuthpithion of plate.'

`You're too late,' said Mr Jaggers. `I am over the way.'

`Holy father, Mithter Jaggerth!' cried my excitable acquaintance, turning white, `don't thay you're again Habraham Latharuth!'

`I am,' said Mr Jaggers, `and there's an end of it. Get out of the way.'

`Mithter Jaggerth! Half a moment! My hown cuthen'th gone to Mithter Wemmick at thith prethent minute, to hoffer him hany termth. Mithter Jaggerth! Half a quarter of a moment! If you'd have the condethenthun to be bought off from the t'other thide - at hany thuperior prithe! - money no object! - Mithter Jaggerth - Mithter - !'

My guardian threw his supplicant off with supreme indifference, and left him dancing on the pavement as if it were red-hot. Without further interruption, we reached the front office, where we found the clerk and the man in velveteen with the fur cap.

`Here's Mike,' said the clerk, getting down from his stool, and approaching Mr Jaggers confidentially.

`Oh!' said Mr Jaggers, turning to the man, who was pulling a lock of hair in the middle of his forehead, like the Bull in Cock Robin pulling at the bell-rope; `your man comes on this afternoon. Well?'

`Well, Mas'r Jaggers,' returned Mike, in the voice of a sufferer from a constitutional cold; `arter a deal o' trouble, I've found one, sir, as might do.'

`What is he prepared to swear?'

`Well, Mas'r Jaggers,' said Mike, wiping his nose on his fur cap this time; `in a general way, anythink.'

Mr Jaggers suddenly became most irate. `Now, I warned you before,' said he, throwing his forefinger at the terrified client, `that if you ever presumed to talk in that way here, I'd make an example of you. You infernal scoundrel, how dare you tell ME that?'

The client looked scared, but bewildered too, as if he were unconscious what he had done.

`Spooney!' said the clerk, in a low voice, giving him a stir with his elbow. `Soft Head! Need you say it face to face?'

`Now, I ask you, you blundering booby,' said my guardian, very sternly, `once more and for the last time, what the man you have brought here is prepared to swear?'

Mike looked hard at my guardian, as if he were trying to learn a lesson from his face, and slowly replied, `Ayther to character, or to having been in his company and never left him all the night in question.'

`Now, be careful. In what station of life is this man?'

Mike looked at his cap, and looked at the floor, and looked at the ceiling, and looked at the clerk, and even looked at me, before beginning to reply in a nervous manner, `We've dressed him up like--' when my guardian blustered out:

`What? You WILL, will you?'

(`Spooney!' added the clerk again, with another stir.)

After some helpless casting about, Mike brightened and began again:

`He is dressed like a 'spectable pieman. A sort of a pastry-cook.'

`Is he here?' asked my guardian.

`I left him,' said Mike, `a settin on some doorsteps round the corner.'

`Take him past that window, and let me see him.'

The window indicated, was the office window. We all three went to it, behind the wire blind, and presently saw the client go by in an accidental manner, with a murderous-looking tall individual, in a short suit of white linen and a paper cap. This guileless confectioner was not by any means sober, and had a black eye in the green stage of recovery, which was painted over.

`Tell him to take his witness away directly,' said my guardian to the clerk, in extreme disgust, `and ask him what he means by bringing such a fellow as that.'

My guardian then took me into his own room, and while he lunched, standing, from a sandwich-box and a pocket flask of sherry (he seemed to bully his very sandwich as he ate it), informed me what arrangements he had made for me. I was to go to `Barnard's Inn,' to young Mr Pocket's rooms, where a bed had been sent in for my accommodation; I was to remain with young Mr Pocket until Monday; on Monday I was to go with him to his father's house on a visit, that I might try how I liked it. Also, I was told what my allowance was to be - it was a very liberal one - and had handed to me from one of my guardian's drawers, the cards of certain tradesmen with whom I was to deal for all kinds of clothes, and such other things as I could in reason want. `You will find your credit good, Mr Pip,' said my guardian, whose flask of sherry smelt like a whole cask-full, as he hastily refreshed himself, `but I shall by this means be able to check your bills, and to pull you up if I find you outrunning the constable. Of course you'll go wrong somehow, but that's no fault of mine.'

After I had pondered a little over this encouraging sentiment, I asked Mr Jaggers if I could send for a coach? He said it was not worth while, I was so near my destination; Wemmick should walk round with me, if I pleased.

I then found that Wemmick was the clerk in the next room. Another clerk was rung down from up-stairs to take his place while he was out, and I accompanied him into the street, after shaking hands with my guardian. We found a new set of people lingering outside, but Wemmick made a way among them by saying coolly yet decisively, `I tell you it's no use; he won't have a word to say to one of you;' and we soon got clear of them, and went on side by side.

 

从我们镇上到伦敦乘马车需要行五个多小时。刚刚过晌午一会儿，我乘坐的四马驿车便进入市区，和四面八方驶来的各种车辆汇流成拥挤混乱的交通，然后停在伦敦齐普塞德伍德街那里的交叉钥匙形旅馆招牌下。

那时，我们不列颠人有一种根深蒂固的偏见，如果有人怀疑我们的东西不是人间第一，怀疑我们英国人不是人间第一，这个人就是判国的罪人。若非如此，在我被伦敦的庞大惊傻的同时，我也会对伦敦有些小小的怀疑：难道伦敦不也是丑陋的、道路弯曲的、又狭又窄的、肮脏不堪的城市吗？

贾格斯先生已经及时地派人送来印有他地址的名片，地址是在小不列颠街，在名片的后面还写着“出史密斯广场，离驿站不远”。我雇了一辆出租马车，车夫穿着一件油腻腻的外套，外面披着许多层斗篷，其数量之多和他的一大把年纪差不多了。他把我扶上马车后，就用发出叮当声响的折叠式上下马车用梯把我挡起来，好像马车要驶向五十英里以外的什么地方似的。他费了好一阵功夫才爬上自己的赶车座位。我记得他那车座上装饰的篷布原是豌豆绿色的，历经了风雨吹打，而且被虫咬得破破烂烂。车子的装备也非常古怪：外面有六顶大华盖，后面都是些破烂东西挂着，说不清有多少跟班可以随车攀在上面；下面还有一个耙子，看来是防备那些所谓业余跟班顿生好奇而想试攀一下的。

我似乎还没来得及把马车欣赏完，还没有弄懂这马车怎么会像一个堆草的院子，又像一个废品店，还有为什么马吃草的袋子也放在马车里面等等奇怪的事情，就看到马车夫准备下车了，好像马上车子也要停了。一会儿，马车真的停在了一条幽暗街道上的一家律师事务所门前，事务所的门开着，上面写着“贾格斯先生”几个字。

“要多少钱？”我向马车夫问道。

马车夫答道：“一个先令，除非你想多付一些。”

我自然说我不希望多付。

“那么你得付一先令，”马车夫说道，“我不想惹上麻烦。我知道他这个人！”他狠狠地对着门上贾格斯先生的大名闭上一只眼睛，并且摇摇头。

他接过了一先令的车费，花了些时间才完成了他爬上车座的动作，然后把马车赶走（好像也放了心）。这时我手提着小旅行皮箱走进了这家事务所，问贾格斯先生是否在？

“他不在，”一位办事员答道，“他在法院出庭。我可以问问，你是皮普先生吗？”

我向他表示我正是皮普先生。

“贾格斯先生有话留下来，要你在他房里等他。他说他正在办一件案子，说不准什么时间回来。不过他的时间是很宝贵的，所以肯定只要他一有时间便会抓紧回来的，不至于耽搁。”

这位办事员说毕便打开一扇门，领着我走进后面的一间内室。我看见室内坐着一位先生，只有一只眼，穿了一件棉织绒的衣眼和一条短裤。他正在那里读报纸，给我们进去打断了，于是用袖口擦起鼻子来。

“迈克，你到外面去等。”办事员说道。

我正要说我希望不致打扰这位先生——而办事员却毫无礼貌地把这位先生撵了出去，还拿起他留在房里的皮帽扔给他。这种事我真是头一次遇到，于是，室内就留下了我一个人。

贾格斯先生房里的光线只是从一扇天窗中照射下来的，可以说这是一处非常黑暗的地方。这扇天窗修补得十分奇怪，活像一个破碎的头颅，望出去那些变了形的隔壁房屋仿佛正故意扭在一起俯下身从窗口偷窥我。房中的档案文件不多，和我原来的推测相反，却另有一些十分奇怪的东西，而这些都是我原来没有想到会看到的，如一支生锈的老式手枪、一柄套在剑鞘里的剑、几个看上去奇形怪状的箱子和包裹，一个架子上放着两个面目狰狞的头像，两边面孔都浮肿着，鼻子抽搐着。贾格斯先生本人的那张高靠背椅是用非常黑的马毛呢制成的，四周钉了几排铜钉，和棺材没有两样。于是在我的幻想下好像见到他正倚靠在椅子上，对着客户咬着食指。房间是那么小，客户们似乎都有一个习惯，那就是退到背靠墙的地方，因为房里的墙壁，特别是贾格斯先生座椅正对面的那一块，都被客户们擦得油光光的了。刚才，那位独眼龙先生也是那样用身子靠在墙上，拖着脚步慢吞吞地走出去的。当然我并没有撵他出去，但却是因为我进来他才被撵出去的。

我坐在一张客户坐的椅子上，它被放在贾格斯先生座椅的正对面，房中的那股死气沉沉、令人窒息的气氛弄得我惊恐万分。我想起他的这位办事员和贾格斯先生有着同样的神气，似乎掌握了每一个人的把柄。我真想知道在楼上究竟还有几个办事员，是不是他们都有掌握自己同胞的手腕，欲害何人岂患无词。我真想知道房间四周放着的那些乱七八糟、奇形怪状的东西究竟有什么来历。我真想知道那两张肿胖面孔的头像是不是贾格斯先生家庭中的成员；难道他就这般不幸，竟然有这么一对丑陋不堪的家庭成员；为什么他把两个头像塞在这么一个灰尘满布、黑斑点点、苍蝇寄生的鬼地方，而不把它们放在家中呢？当然，我没有经历过伦敦夏季的考验，然而我的整个心灵都在这里受到压抑，也许是因为这里的空气太令人困顿，每一件物品上都蒙了一层灰沙。但我就坐在贾格斯先生的这间又窄又小的房间中等待着，惊诧着，直到再也无法忍受贾格斯先生座椅上方架子上的那两个头像，便站起身走了出去。

我对办事员说趁等的机会不如到外面去转转，他说可以，建议我不妨在路边拐一个弯到史密斯广场走走。于是，我便来到了史密斯广场。这哪里是什么广场，简直是个丢人的地方，到处是肮脏的东西，是油脂，是血污，是泡沫，所有这些杀牲口的遗留物似乎都想粘在我身上。我只有加快步伐，赶忙拐进一条街，才算避开了麻烦。在这条街上，我看到圣保罗大教堂的黑色大圆顶从一幢阴森可怖的石头建筑物后面凸出来，正对着我，一位旁观的人说那就是新门监狱。我顺着监狱的围墙走下去，看到路面上铺着稻草，大概是为了防止过往车辆发出喧嚣之声吧。看到这些情况，又见许多人站在那里，身上散发出强烈的烈酒和啤酒气味，我便断定这里面正在开庭。

我正在这里东张西望的时候，一个肮脏邋遢、酒气熏天的法警走过来问我，是不是想进去听一两场官司。他告诉我只要给他半个克朗他就可以把我领到前排座位，全面欣赏头戴假发、身着法袍的高等法院院长形象；他这么一说我倒以为这位神圣不可侵犯的大人物不过是一座蜡像而已。他看我不决不断便立刻降价到十八个便士，于是我赶忙向他说明我身负约会，只有谢谢他的美意。尽管如此，他还是殷勤如故，把我领进院子，指给我看设置绞刑架的地方、公开鞭答犯人的地方，然后又把死囚监狱的门指给我看，凡是上绞架的犯人都要经过这里。他为了提高我对这个阴森可怖之门的兴趣，又告诉我后天早晨八时就会有四个死囚犯从那个门走出来，排成一队上绞刑台。这真令人毛骨悚然，使我对伦敦感到厌恶。尤其使我感到厌恶的是这位利用观赏高等法院院长的幌子来赚钱的法警，从他头上戴的帽子到脚上登的靴子，包括口袋中的手帕，也就是说上上下下的全部衣物都散发着霉味儿。这套衣服分明原来不是他的，一定是从刽子手那里用便宜的价钱买来的。我想我还是打发他走为好，于是递给了他一个先令。

我回到律师事务所，询问贾格斯先生是否回来，结果还是没有回来，于是我又走出去。这一次我走到小不列颠街，然后又转到巴索罗米围场。这时我才意识到，有不少人都像我一样在等待着贾格斯先生。我看到有两个外表十分诡秘的人在巴索罗米围场里荡来荡去，一面谈话，一面满腹思虑地把脚踏在石板缝中走着。他们经过我身边时，其中一人对另一个说：“只要贾格斯来办，就一定能成。”另外还有三个男人和两个女人站在拐角处，其中一个女人用肮脏的围巾捂住脸在哭，另一个女人在安慰着她，同时还在把自己的围巾在肩头弄弄好，说：“阿梅丽亚，贾格斯会替他说话的，你还要怎么样呢？”我正在这里走着时，一位小个头的红眼睛犹太人也走进了围场。他把旁边同行的另外一个小个头犹太人打发去干一件什么事；等那人一走，只见这个红眼睛的犹太人焦躁起来，急得在路灯杆下面打圈圈，跳来跳去，嘴里还念着：“噢，贾格斯，贾格斯，贾格斯！克格斯，买格斯，什么格斯都不要，我只要贾格斯！”我这位监护人真是人心所向，众人欢迎。这给了我极深的印象，于是对他格外敬佩、更加叹服。

接着，我从巴索罗米围场的铁门向小不列颠街张望，突然瞅见贾格斯先生正穿过马路朝着我走来。所有在那儿等候的人也在这时候看到了他，便一齐向他冲过去。贾格斯先生走过来，一手搭在我的肩膀上，和我并肩向前走。他没有和我说什么，只是对跟着他的人们打着招呼。

首先他招呼那两个外表诡秘的人。

“现在我没有什么话可以对你们说，”贾格斯先生说道，把手指指向他们，“我想知道的事已经知道了。结果呢？机会均等，都有可能。从一开始我就告诉过你们这是件成败各半的事。你们向温米克付过钱了吗？”

“先生，我们今天早晨把钱凑好了。”其中一个顺从地说道，而另一个人则在细察着贾格斯先生的脸色。

“我不是问你们什么时候凑齐钱，或在什么地方凑齐钱，或者究竟有没有凑齐钱，我只问你们温米克拿到你们所付的钱没有？”

“先生，拿到了。”

“很好，那么你们可以走了。我不要再听你们讲了！”贾格斯先生对他们挥着手，叫他们让到身后，说，“你们要对我再说一个字，我便不办这个案子了。”

“我们想，贾格斯先生——”其中一个人脱下帽子说道。

“我刚才已经对你们说不要多讲了。”贾格斯先生说道，“你们想！我会为你们想的，你们还想什么！我要找你们，我晓得到哪儿去找；你们不要来找我。我不要你们再对我多说。一个字我也不要听。”

这两个人见贾格斯先生又对他们挥手要他们不要跟过来，相互看看，然后低三下四地告退了，再没有听到他们的话声。

“那么你们！”贾格斯先生忽然停下脚步，转向两个围着围巾的女人，那三个男人顺从地离开了她们。贾格斯说道：“哦，你是阿梅丽亚吗？”

“我就是，贾格斯先生。”

“你还记得吗？”贾格斯先生质问道，“要不是我的话，你怕不会在这里了，也不可能在这里了！”

“唔，是的，先生！”两个女人一起大声说道，“上帝保佑您，先生，我们不会忘记，会永记在心里的。”

“那么，”贾格斯先生说道，“你们为什么还要到这里来？”

“先生，是为我的比尔呀。”啼哭的女人恳求道。

“那么我现在就告诉你吧！”贾格斯先生说道，“我就爽爽快快地告诉你，如果你还不明白比尔已落入好人的手里，我可知道。如果你还是到这里来唠叨你的比尔，使人厌烦，我就干脆拿你的比尔和你开刀，从此再不过问此事。你付钱给温米克了吗？”

“哦，付了，先生！一个子儿也不少。”

“很好。你们已做了所必须做的事，那就别再废话。多说一个字，温米克就会把你们付的钱退还。”

这一令人恐惧的威吓使两个女人赶忙倒退而走。现在，除掉那个异常激动的犹太人之外，别人都走了。这个犹太人业已抓起贾格斯先生外衣的衣角放在嘴唇上吻了好几次。

“我不认识这个人，这人是谁？”贾格斯先生用最令人难以容忍的语气说道，“这个家伙想干什么？”

“我亲爱的贾格斯先生，您怎么会不认识亚伯拉罕·拉扎鲁斯的兄弟呢？”

“他是什么人？”贾格斯先生说道，“不要拉着我的衣服。’”

这一位乞求者在放下贾格斯先生的衣服之前又吻了一次外衣的衣角，答道：“亚伯拉罕·拉扎鲁斯就是金银失窃案的嫌疑犯。”

“你来得太晚了，”贾格斯先生说道，“我已经为你们的对方服务了。”

“天上的圣父啊，贾格斯先生！”这位激动的犹太人脸色变得刷白，“您真的反对起亚伯拉罕·拉扎鲁斯来了！”

“是这样，”贾格斯先生说道，“谈话就此结束，走开吧。”

“贾格斯先生！请等一会儿！我的表弟已经去和温米克先生接洽，就刚才去的。他愿意出不论多大的价钱。贾格斯先生！再稍等一会儿！要是您不给我们的对手办事，不管要付多少钱都可以！钱嘛，没有问题！贾格斯先生，先生——！”

我的监护人毫不留情地把这个乞求者撵走，把他一个人留在路上乱蹦乱跳，好像正站在烧红的烙铁上一样。此后，我们便一路无阻地回到律师事务所，遇到了那位办事员及穿棉绒衣、戴皮帽子的人。

“这是迈克。”办事员一见我们走进便从凳子上站起来，极机密地走到贾格斯先生面前说道。

“唔！”贾格斯先生说着便转向此人。这人正扯着自己脑门正中的一把头发，好像荒诞故事中的那头公牛扯着打钟的绳子一样。“你的人是今天下午来，是吗？”

“对，贾格斯老爷，”迈克答道，声音好像是一个感冒患者发出的，“真够麻烦的，先生，总算找到了一个，也许行。”

“他准备怎样作证呢？”

“唔，贾格斯老爷！”迈克这回用他的毛皮帽子擦了擦鼻子，说道，“一般的话，说什么都行。”

贾格斯先生突然人冒三丈。“我早就警告过你，”他说道，并且把食指对着这个吓坏了的当事人，“你要是胆敢在我面前说这些糊涂话，我就要拿你开刀。你这个该死的混蛋，竟敢在我面前讲这些话。”

这位当事人吓得面如土色，非常惊慌，可是又莫名其妙，不知道自己究竟犯下了什么了不起的大错。

“你这个傻瓜！”办事员用胳膊肘儿碰了一下对方，压低了声音说道，“你这笨头笨脑的！这种事也必须当着面说吗？”

“现在我来问你，你这个糊涂蠢蛋，”我的监护人一副铁面无私的样子说道，“再问一次，也是最后一次，你带来的那个人准备怎么样作证？”

迈克紧紧地盯着我的监护人，仿佛想从他的脸上得到点教训，然后慢慢地答道：“要么说他根本不是这号人物，要么说他整夜陪着他，没有离开过，就这样。”

“仔细想想再答。这个人的身份？”

迈克神情紧张地看看他的帽子，看看地板，又看看天花板，然后又看看办事员，甚至连我也看了看，才回答道：“我们已经把他装扮成一个——”我的监护人没有听完，立刻勃然大怒地喝道：

“你说什么？你又这样了是吗？”

（“你这个傻瓜！”办事员又用胳膊肘碰了他一下说道。）

迈克先是苦思冥想了一番，然后豁然开朗，说道：

“他的衣着很像一个卖馅饼的人，也就是某种糕饼师傅吧。”

“他来了吗？”我的监护人问道。

迈克答道：“我把他留在转弯处一家人的石级上了。”

“你带着他从那边窗口走过，让我看一看他。”

窗口就是指律师事务所的窗户。我们三个人走到窗户边，站在纱窗的后面，不一会儿，便看到那位当事人悠哉游哉地走了过去，一个面露杀机的高个子跟在后面，穿了一身白麻布衣服，略嫌短了一些，头戴着一顶纸帽。这一位似乎老老实实的糕饼师傅看来头脑不太清楚，被打肿了的眼睛周围是一圈青色，不过已经过了化装。

“去告诉他立刻把这个证人带走，”我的监护人以极其厌恶的口吻对办事员说道，“问问他把这号人物带来究竟是什么意思。”

我的监护人把我领进他自己的房间，站在那里从三明治盒中取出三明治来吃，并喝着一小瓶雪莉酒。他这副吃相根本不是在吃三明治，而是在威吓三明治。他告诉我，他已为我安排就绪，叫我先去巴纳德旅馆，住在小鄱凯特先生的一个套间里，他为我准备的床已经送过去了。我要在小鄱凯特先生的套房中住到下星期一，星期一那天，我要和小鄱凯特先生一起去拜访他父亲，看看我是否喜欢那位老师。他还告诉了我该得的生活费数目（数目不小），又从他的一张抽屉里取出一些商人的名片交给我，说我可以持这些名片去取各种不同的衣服，以及其他诸如此类该用的东西。他说：“皮普先生，你会有不错的信誉。”我的监护人匆忙地填充着他的胃，那瓶雪莉酒散发出的香气和一满桶酒散发出的一样浓烈。“不过，我会用不同的方法查核你的账单，一旦发现你负了债，我就要对你加以约束。当然，你还是会犯错的，但那可不是我的过失。”

我思考了一会儿他那带有鼓励性的言辞，便问贾格斯先生，是否可以雇一辆马车去旅馆。他说从这里走到那儿挺近的，用不着雇车，如果我愿意，温米克会和我一起走过去。

我这才知道温米克就是那个办事员，在隔壁房中办公。温米克为了和我到旅馆去，便把楼上的另一位办事员叫下来顶替他。我和我的监护人握过手后，便由温米克陪同上了街。我们看到又有一伙人在外面徘徊，温米克从他们中间走过去，冷漠而又斩钉截铁地说道：“我告诉你们，你们全是白等。他不会对你们任何一个人讲一个字。”我们即刻摆脱了他们，并排向前走去。