058 - A Wintry Day and Night

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to learn more. This is a Libravox Recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain

for more information or to volunteer. Please visit Libravox.org. Bleakhouse by Charles Dickens,

chapter 58, a wintry day and night. Still impassive as behooves its breeding. The deadlock

townhouse carries itself as usual towards the street of dismal grandeur. There are powdered heads

from time to time in the little windows of the hall, looking out at the untax powder, falling

all day from the sky. And in the same conservatory, there is a peach blossom turning itself

exotically to the great hall fire from the ripping weather out of doors. It is given out that my lady

has gone down into Lincolnshire but is expected to return presently. Rumor, busy overmuch, however,

will not go down into Lincolnshire. It persists in flitting and chattering about town. It knows that

the poor unfortunate man, Sir Leicester, has been sadly used. It hears my child, all sorts of

shocking things. It makes the world a five miles round, quite merry. Not to know that there is

something wrong at the deadlocks is to auger yourself unknown. One of the peachy cheek

charmers with the skeleton throats is already apprised of all the principal circumstances

that will come out before the lords on Sir Leicester's application for a bill of divorce.

At blaze and sparkles the jewelers, and at sheen and glosses the mercers, it is and will be for

several hours the topic of the age, the feature of the century. The patronesses of those establishments

albeit so loftily inscrutable, being as nicely wed and measured there as any other article

of the stock and trade, are perfectly understood in this new fashion by the rawest hand behind the

counter. Our people, Mr. Jones, said blaze and sparkle to the hand in question on engaging him.

Our people, sir, are sheep, mere sheep, where two or three marked ones go, all the rest follow.

Keep those two or three in your eye, Mr. Jones, and you have the flock. So likewise, sheen and gloss

to their Jones in reference to knowing where to have the fashionable people and how to bring what

they, sheen and gloss, choose into fashion. On similar unerring principles, Mr. Slattery,

the librarian, and indeed the great farmer of gorgeous sheep admits this very day. Why yes, sir.

There certainly are reports concerning Lady Dudlock, very current indeed among my high

connections, sir. You see, my high connection must talk about something, sir, and it's only

to get a subject into vogue with one or two ladies I could name, to make it go down with a whole.

Just what I should have done with those ladies, sir, in the case of any novelty you had left to

me to bring in. They have done of themselves, in this case, through knowing Lady Dudlock,

and being perhaps a little innocently jealous of her too, sir. You'll find, sir, that this topic

will be very popular among my high connection. If it had been a speculation, sir, it would have

brought money. And when I say so, you may trust to my being right, sir, for I have made it my

business to study my high connection and to be able to wind it up like a clock, sir.

Thus, rumor thrives in the capital and will not go down into Lincolnshire. By half past five,

post-maridian, horseguards time, it has even elicited a new remark from the honorable Mr. Stables,

which bids fair to outshine the old one, on which he has so long rested his colloquial reputation.

This sparkling Sally is to the effect that, although he always knew she was the best groomed woman

in the stud, he had no idea she was a boulder. It is immensely received in turf circles.

At feasts and festivals also, in firmaments she has often graced, and among constellations she

has outshown by yesterday. She is still the prevalent subject. What is it? Who is it? When was it?

Where was it? How was it? She is discussed by her dear friends with all the gentilest slang in

Vogue, with the last new word, the last new manner, the last new draw, and the perfection of polite

indifference. A remarkable feature of the theme is that it is found to be so inspiring that several

people come out upon it who never came out before, positively say things. William Buffy carries one

of these smartnesses from the place where he dines down to the house with a whip for his party

hands it about, with his snuff box, to keep men together who want to be off, with such effect

that the speaker who has had it privately insinuated into his own ear under the corner of his wig

cries, order at the bar three times without making an impression. And not the least amazing

circumstances connected with her being vaguely the town talk is that people hovering on the

conon fines of Mr. Slattery's high connection, people who know nothing and ever did know nothing

about her, think it is essential to their reputation to pretend that she is their topic too,

and to retail her at second hand with the last new word and the last new manner and the last

new draw, and the last new polite indifference and all the rest of it, all at second hand,

but considered equal to new in inferior systems and to fainter stars. If there be any man of

letters, art or science among these little dealers how noble in him to support the feeble sisters

on such majestic crutches. So goes the wintry day outside the deadlock mansion. How within it,

Sir Lester lying in his bed can speak a little though with difficulty and indistinctness.

He is enjoined to silence and to rest and they have given him some opiate to lull his pain

for his old enemy is very hard with him. He is never asleep though sometimes he seems to fall

into a dull waking dose. He caused his bedstead to be moved out nearer to the window when he heard

it was such inclement weather and his head to be so adjusted that he could see the driving snow

and sleet. He watches it as it falls throughout the whole wintry day. Upon the least noise in the

house which is kept hushed his hand is at the pencil. The old housekeeper sitting by him knows

what he would write and whispers. No, he has not come back yet, Sir Lester. It was late last night

when he went. He has been but a little time gone yet. He withdraws his hand and falls to looking

at the sleet and snow again until they seem by being long looked at to fall so thick and fast

that he is obliged to close his eyes for a minute on the giddy whirl of white flakes and icy blots.

He began to look at them as soon as it was light. The day is not yet far spent when he conceives it

to be necessary that her rooms should be prepared for her. It is very cold and wet. Let there be good

fires. Let them know that she is expected. Please see to it yourself. He writes to this purpose on his

sleet and misses round swell with a heavy heart obeys. For I dread George the old lady says to her

son who waits below to keep her company when she has a little leisure. I dread my dear that my lady

will never more set foot within these walls. That is a bad presentiment mother nor yet within the

walls of Chesney walled my dear. That is worse but why mother? When I saw my lady yesterday George

she looked to me and I may say at me too as if the step on the ghost's walk had almost walked her

down. Come come you alarm yourself with old story fears mother. No I don't my dear no I don't

it's going on for sixty years that I have been in this family and I never had any fears for it

before but it's breaking up my dear the great old deadlock family is breaking up. I hope not mother

I am thankful I have lived long enough to be with Sir Leicester in this illness and trouble

for I know I am not too old nor too useless to be a welcomeer sight to him than anybody else in

my place would be but the step on the ghost's walk will walk my lady down George it has been

many a day behind her and now it will pass her and go on well mother dear I say again I hope not

ah so do I George the old lady returns shaking her head and parting her folded hands

but if my fears come true and he has to know it who will tell him are these her rooms

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why now says the trooper glancing around him and speaking in a lower voice I begin to understand

how you come to think as you do mother rooms get an awful look about them when they are fitted up

like these for one person you are used to see in them and that person is away under any shadow

let alone being god knows where he is not far out as all partings for shadow the great final one

so empty rooms bereft of a familiar presence mournfully whisper what your room and what mine must

one day be my lady state has a hollow look thus gloomy and abandoned and in the inner apartment

where mr. bucket last night made his secret perquisition the traces of her dresses and her ornaments

even the mirrors accustomed to reflect them when they were a portion of herself have a desolate

and vacant air dark and cold as the wintry day is it is darker and colder in these deserted chambers

than in many a hut that will barely exclude the weather and though the serpents heap fires in

the grates and set the couches and the chairs within the warm glass screens that let their

ruddy light shoot through to the furthest corners there is a heavy cloud upon the rooms which

no light will dispel the old housekeeper and her son remain until the preparations are complete

and then she returns upstairs volumnia has taken Mrs. Ronswell's place in the meantime

though pearl necklaces and rouge pots however calculated to embellish bath or but in different

comforts to the invalid under present circumstances volumnia not being supposed to know and indeed not

knowing what is the matter has founded a ticklish task to offer appropriate observation and

consequently has supplied their place with distracting smoothings of the bed linen elaborate

locomotion on tiptoe vigilant peeping at her kinsman's eyes and one exasperating whisper to

herself of he is asleep in disproof of which superfluous remark Sir Leicester has indignantly written

on the slate i am not yielding therefore the chair at the bedside of the quaint old housekeeper

volumnia sits at a table a little removed sympathetically sighing Sir Leicester watches the sleet

and snow and listens for the returning steps that he expects in the ears of his old servant

looking as if she had stepped out of an old picture frame to attend a summoned deadlock to

another world the silences fraught with echoes of her own words who will tell him he has been under

his valid hands this morning to be made presentable and is as well got up as the circumstances will

allow he is propped with pillows his gray hair is brushed in its usual manner his linen is arranged

to a nicety and he is wrapped in a responsible dressing gown his eyeglass and his watch are ready

to his hand it is necessary lest his own dignity now perhaps then for her sake that he should be

seen as little disturbed and as much himself as may be women will talk and volumnia though a

deadlock is no exceptional case he keeps her here there is little doubt to prevent her talking

somewhere else he is very ill but he makes his present stand against distress of mind and body

most courageously the fair volumnia being one of those sprightly girls who cannot long continue

silent without imminent peril of seizure by the dragon boredom soon indicates the approach of

that monster with a series of undisguisable yawns finding it impossible to suppress those yawns

by any other process than conversation she compliments Mrs. Roundswell on her son

declaring that he positively is one of the finest figures she ever saw and as soldierly a looking

person she should think as what's his name her favorite life guardsman the man she dots on the

dearest of creatures who was killed at waterloo so lester hears this tribute with so much surprise

and stares about him in such a confused way that Mrs. Roundswell feels it necessary to explain

Miss deadlock don't speak of my eldest son, surlester but my youngest I have found him he has come

home surlester breaks silence with a harsh cry George your son George come home Mrs. Roundswell

the old housekeeper wipes her eyes thank god yes surlester does this discovery of someone lost

this return of someone so long gone come upon him as a strong confirmation of his hopes

does he think shall I not with the aid I have recall her safely after this there being fewer

hours in her case than there are years in his it is of no use in treating him he is determined

to speak now and he does in a thick crowd of sounds but still intelligibly enough to be understood

why did you not tell me Mrs. Roundswell it happened only yesterday surlester and I doubted

you're being well enough to be talked to of such things besides the giddy of alumnae and now

remembers with her little scream that nobody was to have known of his being Mrs. Roundswell's son

and that she was not to have told but Mrs. Roundswell protests with warmth enough to swell the

stomacher that of course she would have told surlester as soon as he got better where is your son

George Mrs. Roundswell asks surlester Mrs. Roundswell not a little alarmed by his disregard of the

doctors and junctions replies in London where in London Mrs. Roundswell is constrained to admit

that he is in the house bring him here to my room bring him directly the old lady can do nothing

but go and search of him surlester with such power of movement as he has arranges himself

a little to receive him when he has done so he looks out again at the falling sleet and snow

and listens again for the returning steps a quantity of straw has been rumbled down in the street

to deaden the noises there and she might be driven to the door perhaps without his hearing wheels

he is lying thus apparently forgetful of his newer and minor surprise when the housekeeper returns

accompanied by her trooper son mr. George approaches softly to the bedside makes his bow

squares his chest and stands with his face flushed very heartily ashamed of himself

good heaven and it is really George Roundswell exclaim surlester do you remember me George

the trooper needs to look at him and to separate this sound from that sound before he knows

what he has said but doing this and being a little help by his mother he replies

I must have a very bad memory indeed surlester if I fail to remember you

when I look at you George Roundswell surlester observes with difficulty I see something of a boy

at Chesney World I remember well very well he looks at the trooper until tears come into his eyes

and then he looks at the sleet and snow again I ask your pardon surlester says the trooper

but would you accept of my arms to raise you up you would lie easier surlester if you would allow me

to move you if you please George Roundswell if you will be so good the trooper takes him in his arms

like a child lightly raises him and turns him with his face more towards the window thank you you

have your mother's gentleness return surlester and your own strength thank you he signs to him

with his hand not to go away George quietly remains at the bedside waiting to be spoken to

why did you wish for secrecy it takes surlester some time to ask this truly I am not much to

boast of surlester and I I should still surlester if you was not so indisposed which I hope you will

not be long I should still hope for the favor of being allowed to remain unknown in general that

involves explanations not very hard to be guessed at not very well timed here and not very credible

to myself however opinions made differ on a variety of subjects I should think it would be

universally agreed surlester that I am not much to boast of you have been a soldier observed

surlester and a faithful one George makes his military bow as far as that goes surlester I have

done my duty under discipline and it was the least I could do you find me says surlester whose eyes

are much attracted towards him far from well George round so well I am very sorry both to hear it

and to see it surlester I am sure you are no in addition to my older malady I have had a sudden

and bad attack something that didn't's making endeavour an endeavour to pass one hand down one

side and confuses touching his lips George with a look of ascent and sympathy makes another bow

the different times when they were both young men the trooper much the younger of the two

and looked at one another down at Chesney wall arise before them both and soften both

surlester evidently with a great determination to say in his own manner something that is

on his mind before relapsing into silence tries to raise himself among his pillows a little more

George observed of the action takes him in his arms again and places him as he desires to be

thank you George you are another self to me you have often carried my spare gun at Chesney

wall George you are familiar to me in these strange circumstances very familiar he has put

surlester's sounder arm over his shoulder in lifting him up and surlester is slow in drawing

it away again as he says these words I was about to add he presently goes on I was about to add

respecting this attack that it was unfortunately simultaneous with a slight misunderstanding

between my lady and myself I do not mean that there was any difference between us for there has

been none but that there was a misunderstanding of certain circumstances important only to ourselves

which deprives me for a little while of my lady's society she has found it necessary to make a

journey I trust will shortly return volomnia tolerate a cure from 2311 racing another checkered flag

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do I make myself intelligible the words are not quite under my command in the manner of pronouncing them

volomnia understands him perfectly and in truth he delivers himself with far greater plainness

than could have been supposed possible a minute ago the effort by which he does so is written in

the anxious and laboring expression of his face nothing but the strength of his purpose enables

him to make it therefore volomnia I desire to say in your presence and in the presence of my

old retainer and friend Mrs. Roundswell whose truth and fidelity no one can question and in the

presence of her son George who comes back like a familiar recollection of my youth in the home of

my ancestors at Chesney world in case I should relapse in case I should not recover in case I should

lose both my speech and the power of writing though I hope for better things the old housekeeper

weeping silently volomnia in the greatest agitation with the freshest bloom on her cheeks the

trooper with his arms folded and his head a little bent respectfully attentive therefore I

desire to say and to call you all to witness beginning volomnia with yourself most solemnly

that I am on unaltered terms with lady deadlock that I assert no cause whatever of complaint against

her that I have ever had the strongest affection for her and that I retain it undiminished say this

to herself and to everyone if you ever say less than this you will be guilty of deliberate falsehood

to me volomnia tremblingly protests that she will observe his injunctions to the letter

my lady is too high in position too handsome too accomplished too superior in most respects

to the best of those by whom she is surrounded not to have her enemies and producers I dare say

let it be known to them as I make it known to you that being of sound mind memory and understanding

I revoke no disposition I have made in her favor I abridged nothing I have ever bestowed upon her

I am on unaltered terms with her and I recall having the full power to do it if I were so

disposed as you see no act I have done for her advantage and happiness his formal array of words

might have at any other time as it has often had something ludicrous in it but at this time it is

serious and affecting his noble earnestness his fidelity his gallant shielding of her his

generous conquest of his own wrong and his own pride for her sake are simply honorable,

manly and true nothing less worthy can be seen through the luster of such qualities in the

communist mechanic nothing less worthy can be seen in the best born gentleman in such a light

both aspire alike both rise alike both children of the dust shine equally

overpowered by his exertions he lays his head back on his pillows and closes his eyes

for not more than a minute when he again resumes his watching of the weather and his attention to

the muffled sounds in the rendering of those little services and in the manner of their acceptance

the trooper has become installed as necessary to him nothing has been said but it is quite

understood he falls a step or two backward to be out of sight and mounts guard a little behind

his mother's chair the net day is now beginning to decline the mist and the sleet into which the

snow has all resolved itself are darker and the blaze begins to tell more vividly upon the room

walls and furniture the gloom augments the bright gas springs up in the streets and the pertenacious

oil lamps which yet hold their ground there with their source of life half frozen and half

thought twinkle gaspingly like fiery fish out of water as they are the world which has been rumbling

over the straw and pulling at the bed to inquire begins to go home begins to dress

to dine to discuss its dear friend with all the last new modes as already mentioned

now does Sir Leicester become worse restless uneasy and in great pain volumna lights a candle

with a predestined aptitude for doing something objectionable is bitten to put it out again

for it is not yet dark enough yet it is very dark too as dark as it will be all night

by and by she tries again no put it out it is not dark enough yet his old housekeeper is the

first to understand that he is striving to uphold the fiction with himself that it is not growing

late George she whispers softly when volumna has gone down to dinner Sir Leicester don't like the

thought of shutting out my lady for another night go away a little while my dear I'll speak to him

the trooper retires and Mrs. Brownswell takes her chair at the bedside Sir Leicester

that's Mrs. Brownswell surely yes Sir Leicester I was afraid you had left me

his hand is lying close beside her she kisses it it's the dull one says Sir Leicester but I feel

that Mrs. Brownswell it is too dark to see him she thinks however that he puts his other hand

before his eyes where's your son George he's not gone I want him here I want only you and him

I would rather have no one else tonight he hoped he might be of some use and he's not gone

Sir Leicester I thank him dear Sir Leicester my honored master she softly whispers I must for your

own good and my duty take the freedom of begging and praying that you will not lie here in the

lone darkness watching and waiting and dragging through the time let me draw the curtains in light

the candles and make things more comfortable about you the church clocks will strike the hours

just the same Sir Leicester and the night will pass away just the same my lady will come back just

the same I know it Mrs. Brownswell but I am weak and he has been so long gone not so very long

Sir Leicester not 24 hours yet but that is a long time oh it is a long time he says it with a

groan that rings her heart she knows that this is not a period for bringing the rough light upon him

she thinks his tears too sacred to be seen even by her therefore she sits in the darkness for a

while without a word then gently begins to move about now stirring the fire now standing at the

dark window looking out finally he tells her with recovered self command as you say Mrs. Brownswell

it is no worse for being confessed it is getting late and they are not come like the room when it

is lighted and the weather shut out it is only left to him to listen but they find that however

dejected and ill he is he brightens when a quiet pretence is made of looking at the fires in her

rooms and being sure that everything is ready to receive her poor pretence as it is these allusions

to her being expected keep up hope within him midnight comes and with it the same blank the

carriages in the streets are few and other late sounds in that neighborhood there are none unless a

man so very nomatically drunk as to stray into the frigid zone goes brawling and bellowing along

the pavement upon this wintry night it is so still that listening to the intense silence is like

looking at intense darkness if any distance sound be audible in this case it departs through the

gloom like a feeble light in that and all is heavier than before the corporation of servants are

dismissed to bed not unwilling to go for they were up all last night and only Mrs. Brownswell and

George keep watching Sir Leicester's room as the night lags totally on or rather when it seems

to stop all together at between two and three o'clock they find a restless craving on him to know

more about the weather now he cannot see it hence George patrolling regularly every half hour to

the room so carefully looked after extends his march to the hall door looks about him and brings back

the best report he can make of the worst of nights the sleet still falling and even the stone

footways lying ankle deep in icy sludge the lumbna in her room upper retired landing on the staircase

the second turning past the end of the carving and gilding a cousinly room containing a fearful

abortion of a portrait of Sir Leicester banished for its crimes and commanding in the day a solemn yard

planted with dried up shrubs like anti-deluvian specimens of black tea is a prey to horrors of

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not last nor lease among them possibly is a horror of what may befall her little income in the event

as she expresses it of anything happening to Sir Leicester anything in this sense meaning one

thing only and that the last thing that can happen to the consciousness of any baronet in the

known world and effective these horrors is that volumnia finds that she cannot go to bed in her own

room or sit by the fire in her own room but must come forth with her fair head tied up in a

profusion of shawl and her fair form enrobed in drapery and parade the mansion like a ghost

particularly haunting the rooms warm and luxurious prepared for one who still does not return

solitude under such circumstances being not to be thought of volumnia is attended by her maid

who impressed from her own bed for that purpose extremely cold very sleepy and generally

an injured maid as condemned by circumstances that take office with a cousin when she had resolved

to be made to nothing less than 10,000 a year has not a sweet expression of countenance

the periodical visits of the trooper to these rooms however in the course of his patrolling

is an assurance of protection and company both to mistress and maid which renders them very

acceptable in the small hours of the night whenever he is heard advancing they both make some

little decorative preparation to receive him at other times they divide their watches into short

scraps of oblivion and dialogues not wholly free from a surby as to whether misdeadlock sitting

with her feet upon the fender was or was not falling into the fire when rescued to her great

displeasure by her guardian genius the maid how is Celeste now mr. George inquires volumnia adjusting

the cow over her head why Celeste is much the same miss he is very low and ill and he even wanders

a little sometimes has he asked for me inquires volumnia tenderly why no I can't say he has missed

not within my hearing that is to say this is a truly sad time mr. George it is indeed miss

hadn't you better go to bed you had a deal better go to bed miss deadlock quote the maid sharply

but volumnia answers no no she may be asked for she may be wanted at a moment's notice she never

should should forgive herself if anything was to happen and she was not on the spot she declines

to enter on the question mooted by the maid how the spot comes to be there and not in her room

which is nearer to Sir Lester's but staunchly declares that on the spot she will remain

volumnia further makes a merit of not having closed an eye as if she had 20 or 30

though it is hard to reconcile this statement with her having most indisputably opened two

within five minutes but when it comes to four o'clock and still on the same blank volumnia's

constancy begins to fail her or rather it begins to strengthen for she now considers that it is her

duty to be ready for the morrow when much may be expected of her that in fact how so ever anxious

to remain upon the spot it may be required of her as an act of self devotion to desert the spot

so when the trooper reappears with his hadn't you better go to bed miss or when the maid protests

more sharply than before you had a deal better go to bed miss deadlock she meekly rises and says

do with me what you think best mr. George undoubtedly thinks it best to escort her on his arm

to the door of her cousinly chamber and the maid as undoubtedly thinks it best to hustle her into bed

with mighty little ceremony accordingly these steps are taken and now the trooper in his rounds

has the house to himself there is no improvement in the weather from the portico from the

eaves from the parapet from every ledge and post and pillar drips the fad snow it has crept

as if for shelter into the lintels of the great door under it into the corners of the windows

into every chink and crevice of retreat and their wastes and dies it is falling still upon the

roof upon the skylight even through the skylight and drip drip drip with the regularity of the

ghost's walk on the stone floor below the trooper his old recollections awakened by the solitary

grandeur of a great house no novelty to him once at Chesney world goes up the stairs and through

the chief rooms holding up his light at arm's length thinking of his varied fortunes within the

last few weeks and of his rustic boyhead and of the two periods of his life so strangely brought

together across the wide intermediate space thinking of the murdered man whose images fresh in his

mind thinking of the lady who has disappeared from these very rooms and the token of whose recent

presence are all here thinking of the master of the house upstairs and of the foreboding

who will tell him he looks here and looks there and reflects how he might see something now

which it would tax his boldness to walk up to lay his hand upon and prove to be a fancy

but it is all blank blank as the darkness above and below while he goes up the great staircase again

blank as the oppressive silence all is still in readiness George Woundswell quite orderly

and right to lester no word of any kind the trooper shakes his head no letter that can possibly

have been overlooked but he knows there is no such hope as that and lays his head down without

looking for an answer very familiar to him as he set himself some hours ago George Woundswell

lifts him into easier positions through the long remainder of the blank wintry night and equally

familiar with his unexpressed wish extinguishes the light and undraws the curtains at the first

late break of day the day comes like a phantom cold colorless and vague it sends a warning streak

before it of a death like you as if it cried out look what i am bringing you who watch there

who will tell him end of chapter 58

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