Part 5 (1/2)

Thinking it would prove of benefit to the scrivener, I acquiesced; and asking the grub-man his name, went up with him to Bartleby.

”Bartleby, this is Mr. Cutlets; you will find him very useful to you.”

”Your sarvant, sir, your sarvant,” said the grub-man, making a low salutation behind his ap.r.o.n. ”Hope you find it pleasant here, sir;--s.p.a.cious grounds--cool apartments, sir--hope you'll stay with us some time--try to make it agreeable. May Mrs. Cutlets and I have the pleasure of your company to dinner, sir, in Mrs. Cutlets' private room?”

”I prefer not to dine to-day,” said Bartleby, turning away. ”It would disagree with me; I am unused to dinners.” So saying he slowly moved to the other side of the inclosure, and took up a position fronting the dead-wall.

”How's this?” said the grub-man, addressing me with a stare of astonishment. ”He's odd, aint he?”

”I think he is a little deranged,” said I, sadly.

”Deranged? deranged is it? Well now, upon my word, I thought that friend of yourn was a gentleman forger; they are always pale and genteel-like, them forgers. I can't pity'em--can't help it, sir. Did you know Monroe Edwards?” he added touchingly, and paused. Then, laying his hand pityingly on my shoulder, sighed, ”he died of consumption at Sing-Sing. So you weren't acquainted with Monroe?”

”No, I was never socially acquainted with any forgers. But I cannot stop longer. Look to my friend yonder. You will not lose by it. I will see you again.”

Some few days after this, I again obtained admission to the Tombs, and went through the corridors in quest of Bartleby; but without finding him.

”I saw him coming from his cell not long ago,” said a turnkey, ”may be he's gone to loiter in the yards.”

So I went in that direction.

”Are you looking for the silent man?” said another turnkey pa.s.sing me.