Part 69 (1/2)
An unholy glare of contradiction and offence shone in the eyes of Mr Wegg, as he turned the key on his patron, after ushering him into the yard with this vocal quotation. Mr Boffin's air was crestfallen and submissive. Whispered Wegg to Venus, as they crossed the yard behind him: 'Look at the worm and minion; he's down in the mouth already.' Whispered Venus to Wegg: 'That's because I've told him. I've prepared the way for you.'
Mr Boffin, entering the usual chamber, laid his stick upon the settle usually reserved for him, thrust his hands into his pockets, and, with his shoulders raised and his hat drooping back upon them, looking disconsolately at Wegg. 'My friend and partner, Mr Venus, gives me to understand,' remarked that man of might, addressing him, 'that you are aware of our power over you. Now, when you have took your hat off, we'll go into that pint.'
Mr Boffin shook it off with one shake, so that it dropped on the floor behind him, and remained in his former att.i.tude with his former rueful look upon him.
'First of all, I'm a-going to call you Boffin, for short,' said Wegg. 'If you don't like it, it's open to you to lump it.'
'I don't mind it, Wegg,' Mr Boffin replied.
'That's lucky for you, Boffin. Now, do you want to be read to?'
'I don't particularly care about it to-night, Wegg.'
'Because if you did want to,' pursued Mr Wegg, the brilliancy of whose point was dimmed by his having been unexpectedly answered: 'you wouldn't be. I've been your slave long enough. I'm not to be trampled under-foot by a dustman any more. With the single exception of the salary, I renounce the whole and total sitiwation.'
'Since you say it is to be so, Wegg,' returned Mr Boffin, with folded hands, 'I suppose it must be.'
'I suppose it must be,' Wegg retorted. 'Next (to clear the ground before coming to business), you've placed in this yard a skulking, a sneaking, and a sniffing, menial.'
'He hadn't a cold in his head when I sent him here,' said Mr Boffin.
'Boffin!' retorted Wegg, 'I warn you not to attempt a joke with me!'
Here Mr Venus interposed, and remarked that he conceived Mr Boffin to have taken the description literally; the rather, forasmuch as he, Mr Venus, had himself supposed the menial to have contracted an affliction or a habit of the nose, involving a serious drawback on the pleasures of social intercourse, until he had discovered that Mr Wegg's description of him was to be accepted as merely figurative.
'Anyhow, and every how,' said Wegg, 'he has been planted here, and he is here. Now, I won't have him here. So I call upon Boffin, before I say another word, to fetch him in and send him packing to the right-about.'
The unsuspecting Sloppy was at that moment airing his many b.u.t.tons within view of the window. Mr Boffin, after a short interval of impa.s.sive discomfiture, opened the window and beckoned him to come in.
'I call upon Boffin,' said Wegg, with one arm a-kimbo and his head on one side, like a bullying counsel pausing for an answer from a witness, 'to inform that menial that I am Master here!'
In humble obedience, when the b.u.t.ton-gleaming Sloppy entered Mr Boffin said to him: 'Sloppy, my fine fellow, Mr Wegg is Master here. He doesn't want you, and you are to go from here.'
'For good!' Mr Wegg severely stipulated.
'For good,' said Mr Boffin.
Sloppy stared, with both his eyes and all his b.u.t.tons, and his mouth wide open; but was without loss of time escorted forth by Silas Wegg, pushed out at the yard gate by the shoulders, and locked out.
'The atomspear,' said Wegg, stumping back into the room again, a little reddened by his late exertion, 'is now freer for the purposes of respiration. Mr Venus, sir, take a chair. Boffin, you may sit down.'
Mr Boffin, still with his hands ruefully stuck in his pockets, sat on the edge of the settle, shrunk into a small compa.s.s, and eyed the potent Silas with conciliatory looks.
'This gentleman,' said Silas Wegg, pointing out Venus, 'this gentleman, Boffin, is more milk and watery with you than I'll be. But he hasn't borne the Roman yoke as I have, nor yet he hasn't been required to pander to your depraved appet.i.te for miserly characters.'
'I never meant, my dear Wegg--' Mr Boffin was beginning, when Silas stopped him.
'Hold your tongue, Boffin! Answer when you're called upon to answer. You'll find you've got quite enough to do. Now, you're aware--are you--that you're in possession of property to which you've no right at all? Are you aware of that?'
'Venus tells me so,' said Mr Boffin, glancing towards him for any support he could give.
'I tell you so,' returned Silas. 'Now, here's my hat, Boffin, and here's my walking-stick. Trifle with me, and instead of making a bargain with you, I'll put on my hat and take up my walking-stick, and go out, and make a bargain with the rightful owner. Now, what do you say?'
'I say,' returned Mr Boffin, leaning forward in alarmed appeal, with his hands on his knees, 'that I am sure I don't want to trifle. Wegg. I have said so to Venus.'
'You certainly have, sir,' said Venus.
'You're too milk and watery with our friend, you are indeed,' remonstrated Silas, with a disapproving shake of his wooden head. Then at once you confess yourself desirous to come to terms, do you Boffin? Before you answer, keep this hat well in your mind and also this walking-stick.'
'I am willing, Wegg, to come to terms.'
'Willing won't do, Boffin. I won't take willing. Are you desirous to come to terms? Do you ask to be allowed as a favour to come to terms?' Mr Wegg again planted his arm, and put his head on one side.
'Yes.'
'Yes what?' said the inexorable Wegg: 'I won't take yes. I'll have it out of you in full, Boffin.'
'Dear me!' cried that unfortunate gentleman. 'I am so worrited! I ask to be allowed to come to terms, supposing your doc.u.ment is all correct.'
'Don't you be afraid of that,' said Silas, poking his head at him. 'You shall be satisfied by seeing it. Mr Venus will show it you, and I'll hold you the while. Then you want to know what the terms are. Is that about the sum and substance of it? Will you or won't you answer, Boffin?' For he had paused a moment.
'Dear me!' cried that unfortunate gentleman again, 'I am worrited to that degree that I'm almost off my head. You hurry me so. Be so good as name the terms, Wegg.'
'Now, mark, Boffin,' returned Silas: 'Mark 'em well, because they're the lowest terms and the only terms. You'll throw your Mound (the little Mound as comes to you any way) into the general estate, and then you'll divide the whole property into three parts, and you'll keep one and hand over the others.'
Mr Venus's mouth screwed itself up, as Mr Boffin's face lengthened itself, Mr Venus not having been prepared for such a rapacious demand.
'Now, wait a bit, Boffin,' Wegg proceeded, 'there's something more. You've been a squandering this property--laying some of it out on yourself. THAT won't do. You've bought a house. You'll be charged for it.'
'I shall be ruined, Wegg!' Mr Boffin faintly protested.
'Now, wait a bit, Boffin; there's something more. You'll leave me in sole custody of these Mounds till they're all laid low. If any waluables should be found in 'em, I'll take care of such waluables. You'll produce your contract for the sale of the Mounds, that we may know to a penny what they're worth, and you'll make out likewise an exact list of all the other property. When the Mounds is cleared away to the last shovel-full, the final diwision will come off.'
'Dreadful, dreadful, dreadful! I shall die in a workhouse!' cried the Golden Dustman, with his hands to his head.
'Now, wait a bit, Boffin; there's something more. You've been unlawfully ferreting about this yard. You've been seen in the act of ferreting about this yard. Two pair of eyes at the present moment brought to bear upon you, have seen you dig up a Dutch bottle.'
'It was mine, Wegg,' protested Mr Boffin. 'I put it there myself.'
'What was in it, Boffin?' inquired Silas.
'Not gold, not silver, not bank notes, not jewels, nothing that you could turn into money, Wegg; upon my soul!'
'Prepared, Mr Venus,' said Wegg, turning to his partner with a knowing and superior air, 'for an ewasive answer on the part of our dusty friend here, I have hit out a little idea which I think will meet your views. We charge that bottle against our dusty friend at a thousand pound.'
Mr Boffin drew a deep groan.
'Now, wait a bit, Boffin; there's something more. In your employment is an under-handed sneak, named Rokesmith. It won't answer to have HIM about, while this business of ours is about. He must be discharged.'
'Rokesmith is already discharged,' said Mr Boffin, speaking in a m.u.f.fled voice, with his hands before his face, as he rocked himself on the settle.