Лавка древностей / The Old Curiosity Shop

“Pray do not speak harshly to him,” said the child in an earnest whisper. “We are very thankful to you, but neither of us could part from the other.”

Mrs. Jarley looked at the old man, who tenderly took Nell’s hand and detained it in his own.

“If you want to employ yourself,” said Mrs. Jarley, “there is much work for you, too: to dust the figures, and take the checks, and so forth. What I want your granddaughter for, is to point them out to the people. It’s not a common offer, bear in mind, it’s Jarley’s wax-work, remember.

This is an opportunity which may never occur again! Now, child?” cried Mrs. Jarley, as Nell turned towards her.

“We are very much obliged to you, ma’am,” said Nell,” and thankfully accept your offer.”

“And you’ll never be sorry for it,” returned Mrs. Jarley. “I’m pretty sure of that. So let us have a bit of supper.”

24

The caravan came upon the paved streets of a town which were clear of passengers, and quiet, for it was by this time near midnight.

They turned aside into a piece of waste ground that lay just within the old town-gate, and drew up there for the night, near to another caravan, which bore on its panel the great name of Jarley, and was employed in conveying from place to place the wax-work.

Nell decided to walk for a little while in the air. The moon was shining down upon the old gateway of the town; and with a mingled sensation of curiosity and fear, she slowly approached the gate, and stood still to look up at it, wondering to see how dark, and grim, and old, and cold, it looked.

There was an empty niche from which some old statue had fallen or been carried away hundreds of years ago. There suddenly a man emerged from the black shade of the arch. She recognised him: it was ugly misshapen Quilp! The child withdrew into a dark corner, and saw him pass close to her. He had a stick in his hand, and he leant upon it, looked back directly, as it seemed, towards where she stood and beckoned.

To her? Oh no, thank God, not to her; there issued slowly forth from the arch another figure – a boy who carried on his back a trunk.

“Faster, fool!” cried Quilp, looking up at the old gateway, “faster!”

“It’s a dreadful heavy load, sir,” the boy pleaded. “I go very fast, indeed.”

“What?” retorted Quilp; “You creep, you dog, you crawl, like a worm. There are the chimes now, half-past twelve.