t in my eyes, thank  God!'  said the impetuous Susan
Nipper.
     'But,  Susan,  I  am  going  with Walter,  and  I would  go with Walter
anywhere - everywhere! Walter is poor, and I am very poor, and I must learn,
now, both to help myself, and help him.'
     'Dear Miss  Floy!'  cried Susan,  bursting out afresh, and  shaking her
head violently, 'it's nothing new to you to help yourself and others too and
be  the patientest and truest of noble hearts,  but let me talk to Mr Walter
Gay and settle it with him, for suffer you to go away across the world alone
I cannot, and I won't.'
     'Alone,  Susan?' returned Florence. 'Alone? and Walter  taking me  with
him!' Ah,  what  a bright, amazed,  enraptured smile was  on her  face! - He
should have seen it. 'I am sure you  will not  speak to Walter if I ask  you
not,' she added tenderly; 'and pray don't, dear.'
     Susan sobbed 'Why not, Miss Floy?'
     'Because,' said Florence, 'I am going to be his wife, to give him up my
whole heart, and to  live with him  and die with him. He might think, if you
said to him what you have said to me, that I am afraid of what is before me,
or that you have  some cause to  be  afraid for me. Why, Susan, dear, I love
him!'
     Miss Nipper  was so much  affected by the quiet fervour of these words,
and the  simple, heartfelt, all-pervading earnestness expressed in them, and
making  the speaker's face more beautiful and pure than ever, that she could
only  cling  to  her  again, crying. Was her little  mistress really, really
going  to be married, and pitying, caressing, and protecting her, as she had
done before.  But the Nipper, though  susceptible of womanly weaknesses, was
almost  as capable  of putting constraint upon  herself as of  attacking the
redoubtable MacStinger. From  that  time, she never returned to the subject,
but  was  always  cheerful, active, bustling, and  hopeful. She did, indeed,
inform Mr Toots privately, that she was only 'keeping  up' for the time, and
that when it was  all over, and Miss Dombey  was gone, she might be expected
to become a spectacle distressful; and Mr Toots did also express that it was
his case too, and that they would mingle their tears together; but she never
otherwise indulged  her  private feelings in  the presence  of  Florence  or
within the precincts of the Midshipman.
     Limited and plain as Florence's  wardrobe was - what a contrast to that
prepared  for  the last marriage in which she had taken part! - there  was a
good deal to  do  in getting it  ready, and Susan Nipper worked  away at her
side,  all day,  with  the  concentrated  zeal  of  fifty sempstresses.  The
wonderful contributions Captain Cuttle would have made to this branch of the
outfit, if he had been permitted - as pink parasols, tinted silk  stockings,
blue shoes, and other articles no less necessary on shipboard - would occupy
some space in  the recital. He was induced, however, by  various  fraudulent
representations, to limit his contributions to a work-box and dressing case,
of  each of which he  purchased the very largest  specimen that could be got
for money. For ten days or a fortnight  afterwards, he generally sat, during
the greater part of the day, gazing at these  boxes; divided between extreme
admiration  of them,  and dejected misgivings that  they  were  not gorgeous
enough,  and frequently diving out  into the  street to  purchase  some wild
article   that   he  deemed   necessary  to  their  completeness.   But  his
master-stroke was, the bearing of them both off,  suddenly, one morning, and
getting the  two  words FLORENCE GAY engraved upon a brass heart inlaid over
the lid of each. After this, he smoked four pipes successively in the little
parlour by himself, and was discovered chuckling, at the  expiration  of  as
many hours.
     Walter was busy and away all day, but came there every morning early to
see Florence, and always passed  the evening  with her. Florence  never left
her high rooms  but to steal downstairs to wait for him when it was his time
to come, or,  sheltered by his proud, encircling arm, to bear him company to
the  door again, and sometimes  peep into  the street. In  the twilight they
were always together.  Oh blessed time! Oh wandering heart at rest! Oh deep,
exhaustless, mighty well of love, in which so much was sunk!
     The cruel  mark was on her bosom  yet. It  rose against her father with
the breath she drew, it lay between her and her lover when he pressed her to
his heart. But she forgot it.  In  the beating of that heart for her, and in
the beating  of her own for him, all harsher  music was  unheard, all  stern
unloving hearts forgotten. Fragile and delicate she was, but with a might of
love within her that could, and did, create a world to fly to, and  to  rest
in, out of his one image.
     How often did the great house, and the old days, come before her in the
twilight time, when she was sheltered by the arm,  so proud,  so fond,  and,
creeping closer  to him, shrunk within  it  at the recollection! How  often,
from remembering  the  night when  she went down to  that  room and  met the
never-to-be forgotten look, did she raise her eyes to those that watched her
with such loving earnestness, and weep with happiness  in such a refuge! The
more she clung to it, the more the dear dead  child was in her thoughts: but
as if  the last time she had  seen her father, had been when he was sleeping
and  she kissed his face, she always left him  so,  and never, in her fancy,
passed that hour.
     'Walter, dear,' said Florence, one evening, when it was almost dark.'Do
you know what I have been thinking to-day?'
     'Thinking how the time  is flying on, and how soon we shall be upon the
sea, sweet Florence?'
     'I  don't mean that, Walter, though I think  of that  too.  I have been
thinking what a charge I am to you.
     'A precious, sacred charge, dear heart! Why, I think that sometimes.'
     'You  are laughing, Walter.  I  know that's  much more in your thoughts
than mine. But I mean a cost.
     'A cost, my own?'
     'In  money, dear. All  these preparations that Susan and I  are so busy
with  - I have been able to purchase very little  for myself.  You were poor
before. But how much poorer I shall make you, Walter!'
     'And how much richer, Florence!'
     Florence laughed, and shook her head.
     'Besides,'  said  Walter,  'long ago  -  before I went to sea - I had a
little purse presented to me, dearest, which had money in it.'
     'Ah!'  returned  Florence, laughing  sorrowfully,  'very  little!  very
little, Walter! But, you must not think,' and  here she laid her  light hand
on his shoulder, and looked into his face, 'that I regret  to be this burden
on you. No, dear love, I am glad of it. I am happy in it. I wouldn't have it
otherwise for all the world!'
     'Nor I, indeed, dear Florence.'
     'Ay! but, Walter, you can never feel it as  I do. I am so proud of you!
It makes  my heart  swell with such delight to know that  those who speak of
you must say you married a poor disowned girl, who had  taken  shelter here;
who had no  other home,  no other  friends;  who had nothing -  nothing! Oh,
Walter, if  I  could  have brought you millions, I never  could have been so
happy for your sake, as I am!'
     'And you, dear Florence? are you nothing?' he returned.
     'No,  nothing, Walter.  Nothing  but your wife.' The  light hand  stole
about his neck, and the voice came nearer - nearer. 'I am nothing any  more,
that is not  you. I  have no earthly hope any more, that is not  you. I have
nothing dear to me any more, that is not you.
     Oh! well  might  Mr Toots  leave the little  company that evening,  and
twice go out to correct his watch by the Royal Exchange, and once to keep an
appointment with a banker which he suddenly  remembered, and once to take  a
little turn to Aldgate Pump and back!
     But before he went upon these expeditions,  or indeed  before  he came,
and before lights were brought, Walter said:
     'Florence,  love,  the  lading  of  our  ship  is  nearly finished, and
probably on the very day of our marriage she will drop down the river. Shall
we go away that morning, and stay in Kent until we go on  board at Gravesend
within a week?'
     'If you please, Walter. I shall be happy anywhere. But - '
     'Yes, my life?'
     'You know,' said  Florence, 'that  we shall have no marriage party, and
that  nobody will distinguish us by our dress from other people. As we leave
the  same  day, will you - will you take me somewhere that morning, Walter -
early - before we go to church?'
     Walter  seemed  to  understand her,  as so true a  lover so truly loved
should,  and confirmed his ready promise with  a  kiss - with more than  one
perhaps,  or  two  or threes  or  five or six;  and in  the grave,  peaceful
evening, Florence was very happy.
     Then into the quiet  room  came Susan Nipper  and the candles;  shortly
afterwards, the tea, the Captain, and the  excursive Mr Toots, who, as above
mentioned, was frequently on the move afterwards,  and passed but a restless
evening.  This, however, was  not  his habit:  for he  generally got on very
well, by dint  of  playing at cribbage with the Captain under the advice and
guidance  of  Miss Nipper, and distracting  his  mind with the  calculations
incidental to the game; which  he found  to  be a  very  effectual means  of
utterly confounding himself.
     The Captain's visage on  these occasions presented one  of  the  finest
examples  of combination  and  succession  of expression ever observed.  His
instinctive delicacy and his chivalrous feeling towards Florence, taught him
that it was  not a time  for any boisterous jollity, or  violent display  of
satisfaction; floating  reminiscences of Lovely Peg, on the other hand, were
constantly struggling for a vent, and urging the  Captain to commit  himself
by some irreparable  demonstration. Anon,  his  admiration of  Florence  and
Walter - well-matched, truly, and full of grace and interest in their youth,
and love, and  good  looks,  as they sat  apart  - would  take such complete
possession of  hIm, that he would lay down  his cards,  and  beam upon them,
dabbing  his  head  all  over  with his  pockethandkerchief;  until  warned,
perhaps, by the sudden  rushing forth of Mr Toots, that he had unconsciously
been very  instrumental,  indeed,  in making that gentleman miserable.  This
reflection would make the Captain profoundly melancholy, until the return of
Mr Toots; when he  would fall to his cards  again, with many side winks  and
nods, and  polite waves of his hook at Miss Nipper, importing that he wasn't
going to do so any  more. The state that  ensued on  this, was, perhaps, his
best;  for then, endeavouring to discharge all  expression from his face, he
would sit staring round  the room,  with all these expressions conveyed into
it at  once,  and  each wrestling with the  other.  Delighted  admiration of
Florence and Walter always  overthrew the rest, and  remained victorious and
undisguised,  unless Mr Toots  made another rush into the air, and then  the
Captain  would  sit, like  a remorseful culprit, until he  came  back again,
occasionally  calling  upon himself,  in  a low reproachful voice, to 'Stand
by!' or growling some  remonstrance  to 'Ed'ard Cuttle, my lad,' on the want
of caution observabl in his behaviour.
     One of Mr Toots's hardest trials, however,  was of  his own seeking. On
the approach of the Sunday which was to witness the last of those askings in
church of which the Captain had spoken, Mr Toots thus stated his feelings to
Susan Nipper.
     'Susan,' said  Mr Toots, 'I am  drawn  towards the  building. The words
which cut me off from Miss Dombey for ever, will strike upon  my ears like a
knell you know, but upon my word  and  honour, I feel that I must hear them.
Therefore,' said Mr  Toots,  'will you accompany me to-morrow, to the sacred
edifice?'
     Miss Nipper expressed  her  readiness to  do so,  if that  would be any
satisfaction to Mr Toots, but besought him to abandon his idea of going.
     'Susan,'  returned Mr  Toots,  with much solemnity, 'before my whiskers
began to be observed by anybody but myself, I adored Miss  Dombey. While yet
a  victim to the thraldom  of Blimber, I adored Miss Dombey. When I could no
longer be  kept out  of my  property, in  a legal  point of  view, and - and
accordingly came into it - I adored Miss Dombey. The banns which consign her
to Lieutenant Walters, and me to - to Gloom, you know,' said Mr Toots, after
hesitating  for a strong expression, 'may be dreadful, will be dreadful; but
I feel that I  should wish to hear them spoken. I feel that I should wish to
know that the ground wascertainly cut from under me,  and  that  I  hadn't a
hope to cherish, or a - or a leg, in short, to - to go upon.'
     Susan  Nipper  could only commiserate Mr Toots's unfortunate condition,
and agree, under these circumstances,  to accompany him; which she  did next
morning.
     The church Walter had chosen for the  purpose,  was a mouldy old church
in a  yard,  hemmed in by a labyrinth  of back streets  and courts,  with  a
little burying-ground round it, and itself buried in a kind of vault, formed
by the  neighbouring  houses, and paved  with echoing stones It was  a great
dim, shabby  pile,  with high old oaken pews, among which  about a  score of
people lost  themselves  every Sunday; while  the clergyman's voice drowsily
resounded through the emptiness, and the organ rumbled  and rolled as if the
church  had got the colic, for want  of a congregation to keep  the wind and
damp out. But  so far was this city church  from languishing for the company
of  other churches, that spires were clustered round  it, as  the  masts  of
shipping  cluster on  the river. It would have been  hard to count them from
its steeple-top,  they  were so many.  In almost every yard  and blind-place
near, there was a  church. The confusion  of  bells when Susan  and Mr Toots
betook themselves towards it  on  the Sunday  morning,  was deafening. There
were twenty churches close together, clamouring for people to come in.
     The two stray sheep in question were penned by a beadle in a commodious
pew,  and,  being  early, sat  for  some  time  counting  the  congregation,
listening to the disappointed  bell  high up in the  tower, or looking at  a
shabby  little  old man in  the porch behind the screen, who was ringing the
same,  like the Bull in Cock Robin,'  with  his foot in a stirrup. Mr Toots,
after a lengthened survey of the large books on the  reading-desk, whispered
Miss  Nipper that he wondered where the banns were kept, but that young lady
merely shook her head and frowned; repelling for the time all approaches  of
a temporal nature.
     Mr  Toots,  however, appearing  unable  to keep his thoughts  from  the
banns, was  evidently  looking  out  for them  during the  whole preliminary
portion  of  the service. As the time for reading them  approached, the poor
young gentleman manifested  great  anxiety and  trepidation, which  was  not
diminished by the unexpected apparition of  the Captain in the  front row of
the gallery.  When the clerk handed  up  a list to the  clergyman, Mr Toots,
being  then  seated, held on by  the seat  of the pew; but when the names of
Walter Gay and Florence Dombey were  read aloud as being  in  the third  and
last stage of that association, he was so entirley conquered by his feelings
as to  rush  from the  church without  his  hat, followed by  the beadle and
pew-opener, and two  gentlemen of the medical profeesion, who happened to be
present;  of whom the  first-named  presently  returned  for  that  article,
informing Miss Nipper in a whisper that  she  was not to make herself uneasy
about  the  gentleman, as  the gentleman  said  his indisposition was  of no
consequence.
     Miss Nipper, feeling that the eyes  of that  integral portion of Europe
which lost itself weekly among the  high-backed pews, were  upon  her, would
have  been sufficient embarrassed by this incident, though it had terminated
here; the  more so, as the Captain in the front row of the gallery, was in a
state of unmitigated consciousness which could hardly fail to express to the
congregation that he had some mysterious connection with it. But the extreme
restlessness of Mr Toots painfully increased and protracted  the delicacy of
her situation. That young gentleman, incapable,  in his  state  of mind,  of
remaining alone  in the churchyard, a prey to solitary meditation, and  also
desirous, no doubt, of testifying his respect for the offices he had in some
measure interrupted,  suddenly returned -  not coming back to the  pew,  but
stationing himself on a free seat in the aisle,  between two elderly females
who were in the habit  of receiving  their portion of a weekly dole of bread
then  set  forth  on  a shelf  in  the porch. In  this  conjunction Mr Toots
remained, greatly  disturbing the congregation, who  felt  it  impossible to
avoid  looking  at him,  until  his  feelings  overcame him  again,  when he
departed silently and suddenly. Not venturing to trust himself in the church
any  more, and  yet wishing to  have  some social participation  in what was
going on there,  Mr Toots was, after  this, seen from time to  time, looking
in, with a lorn aspect, at one or  other of  the windows; and  as there were
several windows accessible to him from without, and as his  restlessness was
very  great, it  not  only became  difficult to conceive  at which window he
would  appear next, but likewise became necessary, as it were, for the whole
congregation to speculate upon  the chances of the different windows, during
the comparative leisure afforded them by the sermon. Mr Toots's movements in
the  churchyard  were so  eccentric,  that he seemed generally to defeat all
calculation,  and to appear, like the conjuror's figure, where he was  least
expected;  and  the  effect  of  these  mysterious  presentations  was  much
increased  by  its  being difficult to him to see in, and  easy to everybody
else to see  out: which  occasioned his remaining,  every time,  longer than
might have been expected, with his face  close to the glass, until he all at
once became aware that all eyes were upon him, and vanished.
     These proceedings on  the  part of  Mr Toots, and the strong individual
consciousness  of them that  was exhibited  by  the  Captain,  rendered Miss
Nipper's position  so responsible a one, that she was mightily  relieved  by
the  conclusion  of the  service; and was hardly  so affable to Mr Toots  as
usual,  when he  informed her and the Captain, on the way  back, that now he
was  sure he had no hope, you know, he felt more  comfortable - at least not
exactly more comfortable, but more comfortably and completely miserable.
     Swiftly now, indeed,  the time flew by until  it was the evening before
the day appointed  for  the marriage.  They were all assembled  in the upper
room at the Midshipman's, and had no fear of interruption; for there were no
lodgers  in  the house  now, and the Midshipman had it all  to himself. They
were  grave and quiet in the prospect of to-morrow, but moderately  cheerful
too. Florence, with Walter close beside her, was finishing a little piece of
work intended as a  parting gift  to the Captain.  The  Captain was  playing
cribbage with Mr Toots. Mr Toots was taking counsel as to his hand, of Susan
Nipper. Miss Nipper was giving it, with  all due secrecy and circumspection.
Diogenes  was  listening,  and  occasionally  breaking   out  into  a  gruff
half-smothered  fragment  of  a  bark,  of   which   he  afterwards   seemed
half-ashamed, as if he doubted having any reason for it.
     'Steady, steady!' said the Captain to Diogenes, 'what's amiss with you?
You don't seem easy in your mind to-night, my boy!'
     Diogenes  wagged  his  tail,  but   pricked  up  his  ears  immediately
afterwards, and gave utterance  to another fragment of  a bark; for which he
apologised to the Captain, by again wagging his tail.
     'It's  my opinion, Di,' said  the Captain, looking thoughtfully at  his
cards, and stroking his chin with his hook, 'as you  have your doubts of Mrs
Richards; but if you're the animal I  take you to be, you'll think better o'
that; for her looks is her commission. Now, Brother:' to Mr Toots: 'if so be
as you're ready, heave ahead.'
     The Captain  spoke with  all composure  and attention to the game,  but
suddenly his cards dropped out  of his hand, his mouth and eyes opened wide,
his legs drew themselves up and stuck out in front of  his chair, and he sat
staring at  the door  with  blank amazement. Looking round upon the company,
and seeing that none of them observed him  or the cause of his astonishment,
the  Captain  recovered  himself  with  a great  gasp,  struck  the table  a
tremendous  blow, cried in a  stentorian roar, 'Sol Gills ahoy!' and tumbled
into the arms of a weather-beaten pea-coat that had come with Polly into the
room.
     In  another moment,  Walter was  in  the  arms  of  the  weather-beaten
pea-coat. In another  moment, Florence was in the arms of the weather-beaten
pea-coat. In another moment, Captain Cuttle  had  embraced Mrs  Richards and
Miss Nipper,  and was violently shaking hands  with Mr Toots, exclaiming, as
he waved  his hook above his  head, 'Hooroar, my lad, hooroar!'  To which Mr
Toots, wholly at a loss to account for these proceedings, replied with great
politeness, 'Certainly, Captain Gills, whatever you think proper!'
     The  weather-beaten  pea-coat,  and  a  no less  weather-beaten cap and
comforter belonging to it, turned from the Captain and from Florence back to
Walter,   and  sounds  came  from  the  weather-beaten  pea-coat,  cap,  and
comforter, as of  an  old  man sobbing  underneath  them;  while  the shaggy
sleeves  clasped Walter tight. During  this pause,  there  was an  universal
silence, and the Captain polished  his  nose with great diligence.  But when
the pea-coat, cap, and comforter lifted themselves up again, Florence gently
moved towards them;  and she  and Walter taking  them off, disclosed the old
Instrument-maker, a little thinner and more careworn than of old, in his old
Welsh wig and his old coffee-coloured coat and basket buttons, with  his old
infallible chronometer ticking away in his pocket.
     'Chock full o' science,' said the radiant Captain, 'as ever he was! Sol
Gills, Sol Gills, what have  you been up to,  for this  many  a long day, my
ould boy?'
     'I'm half blind, Ned,' said the old man, 'and almost deaf and dumb with
joy.'
     'His wery woice,' said the Captain, looking round with an exultation to
which even his face could hardly render  justice - 'his wery woice as  chock
full o'  science as ever it was! Sol Gills, lay  to, my  lad, upon  your own
wines and fig-trees like a taut ould patriark as you are, and overhaul  them
there adwentures  o' yourn, in your  own formilior woice. 'Tis  the  woice,'
said the Captain, impressively,  and announcing  a  quotation with his hook,
'of the sluggard, I heerd him complain, you have woke  me too soon,  I  must
slumber again. Scatter his ene-mies, and make 'em fall!'
     The Captain  sat down with the air of a man  who  had happily expressed
the feeling  of everybody present,  and immediately rose again to present Mr
Toots, who  was  much  disconcerted  by the arrival of anybody, appearing to
prefer a claim to the name of Gills.
     'Although,'  stammered  Mr  Toots,  'I  had  not  the pleasure of  your
acquaintance, Sir, before you were - you were - '
     'Lost to sight, to memory dear,' suggested the Captain, in a low voice.
     Exactly  so, Captain Gills!' assented Mr Toots. 'Although I had not the
pleasure of your  acquaintance, Mr - Mr  Sols,' said Toots,  hitting on that
name in the  inspiration of a bright idea, 'before that happened, I have the
greatest  pleasure,  I assure you, in - you  know, in knowing you. I  hope,'
said Mr Toots, 'that you're as well as can be expected.'
     With these courteous words, Mr Toots sat down blushing and chuckling.
     The  old  Instrument-maker,  seated  in  a corner  between  Walter  and
Florence, and  nodding at Polly, who was looking on, all smiles and delight,
answered the Captain thus:
     'Ned  Cuttle,  my dear boy,  although  I have  heard  something of  the
changes of events here, from my pleasant friend there - what a pleasant face
she has to be sure, to welcome a wanderer home!' said the  old man, breaking
off, and rubbing his hands in his old dreamy way.
     'Hear  him!'  cried  the Captain  gravely.  ''Tis  woman as seduces all
mankind. For which,' aside to Mr Toots, 'you'll overhaul  your Adam and Eve,
brother.'
     'I shall make a point of doing so, Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots.
     'Although I have heard something of the changes of events,  from  her,'
resumed the Instrument-maker, taking his old spectacles from his pocket, and
putting  them  on his forehead  in his  old manner, 'they are  so  great and
unexpected, and I  am so overpowered by  the  sight  of my dear  boy, and by
the,' -  glancing  at  the downcast eyes of  Florence, and not attempting to
finish the sentence - 'that  I - I can't say  much to-night. But my dear Ned
Cuttle, why didn't you write?'
     The  astonishment   depicted  in  the  Captain's   features  positively
frightened Mr Toots, whose eyes were quite fixed by it, so that he could not
withdraw them from his face.
     'Write!' echoed the Captain. 'Write, Sol Gills?'
     'Ay,' said  the old man, 'either to Barbados, or Jamaica, or  Demerara,
That was what I asked.'
     'What you asked, Sol Gills?' repeated the Captain.
     'Ay,'  said  the  old  man.  'Don't you  know, Ned?  Sure  you have not
forgotten? Every time I wrote to you.'
     The Captain took off his glazed hat, hung it on his hook, and smoothing
his hair from behind  with his hand, sat gazing  at the group around him:  a
perfect image of wondering resignation.
     'You don't appear to understand me, Ned!' observed old Sol.
     'Sol  Gills,'  returned the Captain, after staring  at him and the rest
for a  long  time,  without speaking, 'I'm gone about and adrift.  Pay out a
word or two respecting  them adwenturs, will you! Can't I  bring up, nohows?
Nohows?' said the Captain, ruminating, and staring all round.
     'You  know,  Ned,' said  Sol  Gills, 'why I left  here. Did you open my
packet, Ned?'
     'Why, ay, ay,' said the Captain. 'To be sure, I opened the packet.'
     'And read it?' said the old man.
     'And read  it,'  answered  the Captain,  eyeing  him  attentively,  and
proceeding to quote  it from memory. '"My dear Ned Cuttle, when I  left home
for the West Indies  in forlorn search of intelligence of my dear-" There he
sits!  There's Wal'r!' said the  Captain, as if he were  relieved by getting
hold of anything that was real and indisputable.
     'Well, Ned. Now attend a moment!' said the old man. 'When I wrote first
- that was from Barbados - I said that though you would receive that  letter
long before the year was out, I should be glad if you would open the packet,
as it explained the  reason of my going away. Very good, Ned.  When  I wrote
the second, third, and perhaps  the fourth times - that was from Jamaica - I
said  I was in  just the same  state, couldn't rest, and  couldn't come away
from that part  of the world, without knowing that my boy was lost or saved.
When I wrote next - that, I think, was from Demerara, wasn't it?'
     'That  he  thinks  was  from  Demerara, warn't  it!' said  the Captain,
looking hopelessly round.
     'I  said,'  proceeded  old  Sol,  'that  still  there  was  no  certain
information got yet. That I  found many captains and others, in that part of
the world,  who had known me for years, and who assisted  me with a  passage
here and there, and for  whom I was able, now  and then, to do a  little  in
return, in my own craft. That everyone was sorry for me,  and seemed to take
a sort of interest  in my wanderings; and that  I began to think it would be
my fate to cruise about in search of tidings of my boy, until I died.'
     'Began  to think  as how he was a scientific Flying Dutchman!' said the
Captain, as before, and with great seriousness.
     'But when the news come one  day, Ned, - that was to Barbados, after  I
got back there, - that  a  China trader home'ard bound  had been spoke, that
had my boy aboard, then, Ned, I took passage in the next ship and came home;
arrived  at  home to-night  to find  it true, thank God!'  said the old man,
devoutly.
     The Captain, after  bowing  his  head with great  reverence, stared all
round   the   circle,   beginning  with  Mr  Toots,  and  ending  with   the
Instrument-maker; then gravely said:
     'Sol Gills!  The observation as  I'm a-going to make  is calc'lated  to
blow every stitch of sail as you can carry, clean out of the bolt-ropes, and
bring you  on your beam ends with a lurch. Not one  of them letters was ever
delivered to Ed'ard Cuttle. Not one o' them  letters,' repeated the Captain,
to make his declaration  the more solemn and impressive, 'was ever delivered
unto Ed'ard Cuttle, Mariner, of England,  as lives at home at ease, and doth
improve each shining hour!'
     'And posted by my own hand! And directed  by my own  hand, Number  nine
Brig Place!' exclaimed old Sol.
     The colour all went out  of the Captain's face and all  came back again
in a glow.
     'What do you  mean, Sol Gills, my  friend, by Number  nine Brig Place?'
inquired the Captain.
     'Mean? Your lodgings, Ned,' returned the old man. 'Mrs What's-her-name!
I shall forget my own name next, but I am behind the present time - I always
was, you recollect - and very much confused. Mrs - '
     'Sol  Gills!' said  the  Captain,  as  if  he  were  putting  the  most
improbable case in the world, 'it ain't  the name of MacStinger as you're  a
trying to remember?'
     'Of course it is!' exclaimed the Instrument-maker. 'To be sure Ned. Mrs
MacStinger!'
     Captain Cuttle, whose eyes were now  as wide open as they would be, and
the  knobs  upon  whose  face were  perfectly  luminous, gave  a long shrill
whistle of a most melancholy sound, and stood gazing at everybody in a state
of speechlessness.
     'Overhaul that there again, Sol Gills, will you be so kind?' he said at
last.
     'All  these  letters,'  returned  Uncle  Sol,  beating  time  with  the
forefinger of his right hand  upon the palm  of his  left, with a steadiness
and  distinctness  that  might  have  done  honour,  even  to the infallible
chronometer in his  pocket, 'I posted with my own hand, and directed with my
own hand, to Captain Cuttle, at Mrs MacStinger's, Number nine Brig Place.'
     The Captain took  his glazed  hat off his hook, looked into it,  put it
on, and sat down.
     'Why, friends all,' said the Captain,  staring round in the  last state
of discomfiture, 'I cut and run from there!'
     'And no  one  knew  where you were gone, Captain Cuttle?'  cried Walter
hastily.
     'Bless your heart, Wal'r,'  said the  Captain, shaking his head, 'she'd
never  have  allowed o'  my  coming  to take  charge o' this here  property.
Nothing  could be  done  but cut and run. Lord love  you,  Wal'r!' said  the
Captain, 'you've only  seen  her  in a  calm!  But  see  her when  her angry
passions rise - and make a note on!'
     'I'd give it her!' remarked the Nipper, softly.
     'Would you,  do you think, my dear?'  returned the Captain, with feeble
admiration. 'Well, my  dear,  it does  you  credit. But there ain't  no wild
animal I wouldn't sooner face myself. I only got my chest away by means of a
friend as nobody's a match for. It was no good sending any letter there. She
wouldn't take  in  any letter, bless  you,'  said  the Captain,  'under them
circumstances! Why,  you could hardly make it worth a man's while  to be the
postman!'
     'Then  it's pretty clear, Captain Cuttle,  that all of  us, and you and
Uncle Sol especially,' said Walter,  'may thank Mrs MacStinger  for no small
anxiety.'
     The  general obligation in this wise  to the determined  relict of  the
late Mr  MacStinger, was so  apparent, that  the Captain did not contest the
point; but  being  in some  measure ashamed  of  his position, though nobody
dwelt  upon the subject, and Walter  especially avoided it,  remembering the
last conversation  he and  the Captain had held  together respecting  it, he
remained under a cloud for nearly five minutes - an extraordinary period for
him when that sun, his  face, broke out once more, shining on all  beholders
with extraordinary brilliancy; and  he fell into a fit of shaking hands with
everybody over and over again.
     At an early hour, but not before Uncle  Sol  and  Walter had questioned
each other at some length about their voyages and dangers,  they all, except
Walter, vacated Florence's  room, and went  down  to the  parlour. Here they
were soon afterwards joined by Walter, who told them Florence  was a  little
sorrowful and heavy-hearted, and had gone to bed. Though they could not have
disturbed her  with their  voices  down there, they all  spoke in a  whisper
after this: and each,  in  his  different way, felt very lovingly and gently
towards Walter's fair  young  bride:  and  a  long explanation there was  of
everything  relating  to  her, for the satisfaction  of Uncle Sol;  and very
sensible Mr Toots  was of the delicacy with  which Walter made his name  and
services important, and his presence necessary to their little council.
     'Mr Toots,' said  Walter, on  parting with  him  at the house door, 'we
shall see each other to-morrow morning?'
     'Lieutenant Walters,' returned  Mr Toots, grasping  his hand fervently,
'I shall certainly be present.
     'This  is the last night we shall meet for a long time - the last night
we may ever meet,' said  Walter. 'Such a noble heart as  yours, must feel, I
think, when another heart  is bound to it. I  hope you know that  I  am very
grateful to you?'
     'Walters,' replied Mr  Toots, quite touched, 'I should be glad to  feel
that you had reason to be so.'
     'Florence,'  said Walter,  'on this last night of her  bearing  her own
name, has made me promise - it was only just now,  when you left us together
- that I would tell you - with her dear love - '
     Mr Toots laid his hand upon the doorpost, and his eyes upon his hand.
     - with her dear love,'  said Walter, 'that she  can never have a friend
whom  she  will  value  above  you.  That  the  recollection  of  your  true
consideration for  her always,  can  never  be forgotten  by  her.  That she
remembers  you in her prayers to-night, and hopes that you will think of her
when she is far away. Shall I say anything for you?'
     'Say,  Walter,' replied Mr  Toots indistinctly, 'that I shall think  of
her every day,  but never without feeling happy  to know that she is married
to the man  she loves, and who loves her. Say, if you please, that I am sure
her husband deserves her - even her!- and that I am glad of her choice.'
     Mr Toots got more distinct as he came to these last words, and  raising
his eyes  from the doorpost, said them  stoutly. He then shook Walter's hand
again  with  a  fervour that  Walter  was not slow  to  return  and  started
homeward.
     Mr Toots was accompanied by the Chicken, whom  he had  of late  brought
with him  every evening, and left in the shop, with an idea  that unforeseen
circumstances  might  arise  from  without,  in  which  the  prowess of that
distinguished character  would be of service to  the Midshipman. The Chicken
did not appear to be in a particularly good humour on this  occasion. Either
the gas-lamps were treacherous, or he cocked  his eye  in a  hideous manner,
and likewise distorted  his nose, when  Mr Toots, crossing the  road, looked
back over his shoulder  at the room where Florence slept.  On the road home,
he  was  more  demonstrative  of  aggressive intentions  against  the  other
foot-passengers, than  comported  with  a professor  of the  peaceful art of
self-defence. Arrived at home, instead of leaving Mr Toots in his apartments
when he  had escorted him thither, he remained before him weighing his white
hat  in both  hands by the brim,  and twitching his head  and  nose (both of
which had been many times broken, and but  indifferently repaired), with  an
air of decided disrespect.
     His patron being much engaged  with his own  thoughts, did  not observe
this  for  some  time,  nor indeed  until the Chicken,  determined not to be
overlooked,  had made divers clicking sounds  with his  tongue and teeth, to
attract attention.
     'Now, Master,' said  the Chicken, doggedly, when he, at length,  caught
Mr Toots's eye, 'I want to know whether this here gammon is to finish it, or
whether you're a going in to win?'
     'Chicken,' returned Mr Toots, 'explain yourself.'
     'Why then, here's all  about it, Master,' said the Chicken.  'I ain't a
cove to chuck a word away. Here's  wot it is.  Are any on 'em to  be doubled
up?'
     When the Chicken put this question he dropped his hat, made a dodge and
a  feint with his left  hand, hit a supposed enemy a  violent blow with  his
right, shook his head smartly, and recovered himself'
     'Come, Master,' said the Chicken. 'Is it to be gammon or pluck? Which?'
     Chicken,'  returned  Mr Toots,  'your expressions are coarse, and  your
meaning is obscure.'
     'Why, then, I  tell you what, Master,' said the Chicken. 'This is where
it is. It's mean.'
     'What is mean, Chicken?' asked Mr Toots.
     'It is,'  said  the Chicken, with a frightful corrugation of his broken
nose. 'There!  Now, Master! Wot!  When you  could go and  blow on this  here
match to the stiff'un;'  by which depreciatory appellation it has been since
supposed  that  the Game One  intended  to  signify Mr Dombey; 'and when you
could knock the winner and all the kit of 'em dead out o' wind and time, are
you  going  to give  in? To  give in? 'said the Chicken,  with  contemptuous
emphasis. 'Wy, it's mean!'
     'Chicken,'  said Mr  Toots, severely, 'you're a perfect  Vulture!  Your
sentiments are atrocious.'
     'My  sentiments is Game  and  Fancy,  Master,'  returned  the  Chicken.
'That's  wot my sentiments  is. I  can't  abear  a meanness. I'm  afore  the
public, I'm  to  be heerd on  at the  bar  of the Little  Helephant,  and no
Gov'ner o' mine mustn't go and do  what's  mean.  Wy,  it's  mean,' said the
Chicken, with increased expression. 'That's where it is. It's mean.'
     'Chicken,' said Mr Toots, 'you disgust me.'
     'Master,' returned the Chicken, putting on  his hat, 'there's a pair on
us,  then.  Come!  Here's  a offer!  You've spoke to  me more than once't or
twice't about the public line. Never mind! Give me a fi'typunnote to-morrow,
and let me go.'
     'Chicken,'  returned  Mr Toots, 'after the odious  sentiments you  have
expressed, I shall be glad to part on such terms.'
     'Done  then,' said the Chicken.  'It's a bargain. This here conduct  of
yourn  won't suit my book,  Master. Wy,  it's mean,'  said the  Chicken; who
seemed equally  unable to get beyond that  point, and to  stop short  of it.
'That's where it is; it's mean!'
     So Mr Toots and the  Chicken  agreed to part on this incompatibility of
moral perception;  and  Mr  Toots lying down  to  sleep, dreamed happily  of
Florence, who  had thought of him as her friend upon  the last night  of her
maiden life, and who had sent him her dear love.

        CHAPTER 57.
     Another Wedding

     Mr Sownds the beadle, and Mrs Miff the  pew-opener, are early at  their
posts  in the fine church where Mr  Dombey  was  married. A yellow-faced old
gentleman  from  India,  is  going to take  unto himself  a  young wife this
morning,  and  six carriages full of company are expected, and Mrs  Miff has
been  informed that  the yellow-faced old gentleman could pave the  road  to
church with diamonds and hardly miss them. The  nuptial benediction is to be
a superior one, proceeding from a very reverend, a dean, and the  lady is to
be given away, as an extraordinary present,  by somebody  who comes  express
from the Horse Guards
     Mrs Miff  is  more intolerant of common  people  this morning, than she
generally is; and she  his always strong opinions on that subject, for it is
associated  with  free  sittings.  Mrs Miff  is  not a  student of political
economy (she thinks the science is  connected  with dissenters; 'Baptists or
Wesleyans, or some  o' them,' she  says), but she can never  understand what
business your common folks  have to be  married. 'Drat  'em,' says  Mrs Miff
'you  read  the  same  things  over  'em'  and  instead  of  sovereigns  get
sixpences!'
     Mr Sownds the beadle is more li