Multimedia Mania/abacus-multimedia-mania.iso/dp/0065/00650.txt

Text File | 1993-07-27 | 7KB | 144 lines

$Unique_ID{bob00650}
$Pretitle{}
$Title{Anthology Of Shorter Works
Third Branch - The Bill}
$Subtitle{}
$Author{Dickens, Charles}
$Affiliation{}
$Subject{never
time
dear
door
edwin
charley
holly-tree

}
$Date{}
$Log{}
Title:       Anthology Of Shorter Works
Book:        Holly Tree: Three Branches, The
Author:      Dickens, Charles

Third Branch - The Bill

     I had been snowed up a whole week.  The time had hung so lightly on my
hands, that I should have been in great doubt of the fact but for a piece of
documentary evidence that lay upon my table.

     The road had been dug out of the snow on the previous day, and the
document in question was my Bill.  It testified emphatically to my having
eaten and drunk, and warmed myself, and slept among the sheltering branches
of the Holly-Tree, seven days and nights.

     I had yesterday allowed the road twenty-four hours to improve itself,
finding that I required that additional margin of time for the completion of
my task.  I had ordered my Bill to be upon the table, and a chaise to be at
the door, "at eight o'clock to-morrow evening." It was eight o'clock
to-morrow evening when I buckled up my travelling writing-desk in its leather
case, paid my Bill, and got on my warm coats and wrappers.  Of course no time
now remained for my travelling on to add a frozen tear to the icicles which
were doubtless hanging plentifully about the farm-house where I had first
seen Angela.  What I had to do was to get across to Liverpool by the shortest
open road, there to meet my heavy baggage and embark.  It was quite enough
to do, and I had not an hour too much time to do it in.

     I had taken leave of all my Holly-Tree friends, - almost, for the time
being, of my bashfulness too, - and was standing for half a minute at the Inn
door watching the ostler as he took another turn at the cord which tied my
portmanteau on the chaise, when I saw lamps coming down towards the
Holly-Tree.  The road was so padded with snow that no wheels were audible;
but all of us who were standing at the Inn door saw lamps coming on, and at
a lively rate too, between the walls of snow that had been heaped up on
either side of the track.  The chambermaid instantly divined how the case
stood, and called to the ostler, "Tom, this is a Gretna job!" The ostler,
knowing that her sex instinctively scented a marriage, or anything in that
direction, rushed up the yard bawling, "Next four out!" and in a moment the
whole establishment was thrown into commotion.

     I had a melancholy interest in seeing the happy man who loved and was
beloved; and therefore, instead of driving off at once, I remained at the Inn
door when the fugitives drove up.  A bright-eyed fellow, muffled in a mantle,
jumped out so briskly that he almost overthrew me.  He turned to apologize,
and, by Heaven, it was Edwin!

     "Charley!" said he, recoiling.  "Gracious powers!  what do you do here?"

     "Edwin," said I, recoiling, "gracious powers!  what do you do here?" I
struck my forehead as I said it, and an insupportable blaze of light seemed
to shoot before my eyes,

     He hurried me into the little parlour (always kept with a slow fire in
it and no poker), where posting company waited while their horses were
putting to, and shutting the door, said, -

     "Charley, forgive me!"

     "Edwin!" I returned.  "Was this well?  When I loved her so dearly!
When I had garnered up my heart so long!" I could say no more.

     He was shocked when he saw how moved I was, and made the cruel
observation that he had not thought I should have taken it so much to heart.

     I looked at him.  I reproached him no more.  But I looked at him.

     "My dear, dear Charley," said he, "don't think ill of me, I beseech
you!  I know you have a right to my utmost confidence, and, believe me, you
have ever had it until now.  I abhor secrecy.  Its meanness is intolerable
to me.  But I and my dear girl have observed it for your sake."

     He and his dear girl!  It steeled me.

     "You have observed it for my sake, sir?" said I, wondering how his
frank face could face it out so.

     "Yes! - and Angela's," said he.

     I found the room reeling round in an uncertain way, like a labouring
humming-top.  "Explain yourself," said I, holding on by one hand to an
arm-chair.

     "Dear old darling Charley!" returned Edwin in his cordial manner,
"consider!  When you were going on so happily with Angela, why should I
compromise you with the old gentleman by making you a party to our
engagement, and (after he had declined my proposals) to our secret intention?
Surely it was better that you should be able honourably to say, 'He never
took counsel with me, never told me, never breathed a word of it.' If Angela
suspected it, and showed me all the favour and support she could, - God bless
her for a precious creature and a priceless wife! - I couldn't help that.
Neither I nor Emmeline ever told her, any more than we told you.  And for the
same good reason, Charley; trust me, for the same good reason, and no other
upon earth!"

     Emmeline was Angela's cousin.  Lived with her.  Had been brought up
with her.  Was her father's ward.  Had property.

     "Emmeline is in the chaise, my dear Edwin?" said I, embracing him with
the greatest affection.

     "My good fellow!" said he, "do you suppose I should be going to Gretna
Green without her?"

     I ran out with Edwin, I opened the chaise door, I took Emmeline in my
arms, I folded her to my heart.  She was wrapped in soft white fur, like the
snowy landscape; but was warm, and young, and lovely.  I put their leaders
to with my own hands, I gave the boys a five-pound note apiece, I cheered
them as they drove away, I drove the other way myself as hard as I could
pelt.

     I never went to Liverpool, I never went to America, I went straight
back to London and I married Angela.  I have never, until this time, even to
her, disclosed the secret of my character, and the mistrust and the mistaken
journey into which it led me.  When she, and they, and our eight children and
their seven, - I mean Edwin's and Emmeline's, whose eldest girl is old enough
now to wear white fur herself, and to look very like her mother in it, - come
to read these pages, as of course they will, I shall hardly fail to be found
out at last.  Never mind!  I can bear it.  I began at the Holly-Tree, by idle
accident, to associate the Christmas time of year with human interest, and
with some inquiry into, and some care for, the lives of those by whom I find
myself surrounded.  I hope that I am none the worse for it, and that no one
near me or afar off is the worse for it.  And I say, May the green Holly-Tree
flourish, striking its roots deep into our English ground, and having its
germinating qualities carried by the birds of Heaven all over the world!