"Brother Ned," said Nicholas"s friend, "here is a young friend of mine that we must a.s.sist." Then brother Charles related what Nicholas had told him. And, after that, and some conversation between the brothers, Tim Linkinwater was called in, and brother Ned whispered a few words in his ear.
"Tim," said brother Charles, "you understand that we have an intention of taking this young gentleman into the counting-house."
Brother Ned remarked that Tim quite approved of it, and Tim, having nodded, said, with resolution, "But I"m not coming an hour later in the morning, you know. I"m not going to the country either. It"s forty-four years since I first kept the books of Cheeryble Brothers. I"ve opened the safe all that time every morning at nine, and I"ve never slept out of the back attic one single night. This ain"t the first time you"ve talked about superannuating me, Mr. Edwin and Mr. Charles; but, if you please, we"ll make it the last, and drop the subject for evermore."
With which words Tim Linkinwater stalked out, with the air of a man who was thoroughly resolved not to be put down.
The brothers coughed.
"He must be done something with, brother Ned. We must, disregard his scruples; he must be made a partner."
"Quite right, quite right, brother Charles. If he won"t listen to reason, we must do it against his will. But, in the meantime, we are keeping our young friend, and the poor lady and her daughter will be anxious for his return. So let us say good-bye for the present." And at that the brothers hurried Nicholas out of the office, shaking hands with him all the way.
That was the beginning of brighter days for Nicholas and for Mrs.
Nickleby and Kate. The brothers Cheeryble not only took Nicholas into their office, but a small cottage at Bow, then quite out in the country, was found for the widow and her children.
There never was such a week of discoveries and surprises as the first week at that cottage. Every night when Nicholas came home, something new had been found. One day it was a grape-vine, and another day it was a boiler, and another day it was the key of the front parlour cupboard at the bottom of the water-b.u.t.t, and so on through a hundred items.
As for Nicholas"s work in the counting-house, Tim Linkinwater was satisfied with the young man the very first day.
Tim turned pale and stood watching with breathless anxiety when Nicholas made his first entry in the books of Cheeryble Brothers, while the two brothers looked on with smiling faces.
Presently the old clerk nodded his head, signifying "He"ll do." But when Nicholas stopped to refer to some other page, Tim Linkinwater, unable to restrain his satisfaction any longer, descended from his stool, and caught him rapturously by the hand.
"He has done it!" said Tim, looking round triumphantly at his employers.
"His capital "B"s" and "D"s" are exactly like mine; he dots his small "i"s" and crosses every "t." There ain"t such a young man in all London.
The City can"t produce his equal. I challenge the City to do it!"
_IV.--The Brothers Cheeryble_
In course of time the brothers Cheeryble, in their frequent visits to the cottage at Bow, often took with them their nephew Frank; and it also happened that Miss Madeline Bray, a ward of the brothers, was taken to the cottage to recover from a serious illness.
Nicholas, from the first time he had seen Madeline in the office of Cheeryble Brothers, had fallen in love with her; but he decided that as an honourable man no word of love must pa.s.s his lips. While Kate Nickleby had been equally firm in declining to listen to any proposal from Frank.
It was some time after Madeline had left the cottage, and Nicholas and Kate had begun to try in good earnest to stifle their own regrets, and to live for each other and for their mother, when there came one evening, per Mr. Linkinwater, an invitation from the brothers to dinner on the next day but one.
"You may depend on it that this means something besides dinner," said Mrs. Nickleby solemnly.
When the great day arrived who should be there at the house of the brothers but Frank and Madeline.
"Young men," said brother Charles, "shake hands."
"I need no bidding to do that," said Nicholas.
"Nor I," rejoined Frank, and the two young men clasped hands heartily.
The old gentleman took them aside.
"I wish to see you friends--close and firm friends. Frank, look here!
Mrs. Nickleby, will you come on the other side? This is a copy of the will of Madeline"s grandfather, bequeathing her the sum of 12,000. Now, Frank, you were largely instrumental in recovering this doc.u.ment. The fortune is but a small one, but we love Madeline. Will you become a suitor for her hand?"
"No, sir. I interested myself in the recovery of that instrument, believing that her hand was already pledged elsewhere. In this, it seems, I judged hastily."
"As you always do, sir!" cried brother Charles. "How dare you think, Frank, that we could have you marry for money? How dare you go and make love to Mr. Nickleby"s sister without telling us first, and letting us speak for you. Mr. Nickleby, sir, Frank judged hastily, but he judged, for once, correctly. Madeline"s heart is occupied--give me your hand--it is occupied by you and worthily. She chooses you, Mr. Nickleby, as we, her dearest friends, would have her choose. Frank chooses as we would have _him_ choose. He should have your sister"s little hand, sir, if she had refused it a score of times--ay, he should, and he shall! What? You are the children of a worthy gentleman. The time was, sir, when my brother Ned and I were two poor, simple-hearted boys, wandering almost barefoot to seek bur fortunes. Oh, Ned, Ned, Ned, what a happy day this is for you and me! If our poor mother had only lived to see us now, Ned, how proud it would have made her dear heart at last!"
So Madeline gave her heart and fortune to Nicholas, and on the same day, and at the same time, Kate became Mrs. Frank Cheeryble. Madeline"s money was invested in the firm of Cheeryble Brothers, in which Nicholas had become a partner, and before many years elapsed the business was carried on in the names of "Cheeryble and Nickleby."
Tim Linkinwater condescended, after much entreating and brow-beating, to accept a share in the house; but he could never be prevailed upon to suffer the publication of his name as partner, and always persisted in the punctual and regular discharge of his clerkly duties.
The twin brothers retired. Who needs to be told that they were happy?
The first act of Nicholas, when he became a rich and prosperous merchant, was to buy his father"s old house. As time crept on, and there came gradually about him a group of lovely children, it was altered and enlarged; but no tree was rooted up, nothing with which there was any a.s.sociation of bygone times was ever removed or changed. Mr. Squeers, having come within the meshes of the law over some nefarious scheme of Ralph Nickleby"s, suffered transportation beyond the seas, and with his disappearance Dotheboys Hall was broken up for good.
Oliver Twist
"The Adventures of Oliver Twist," published serially in "Bentley"s Miscellany," 1837-39, and in book form in 1838, was the second of d.i.c.kens"s novels. It lacks the exuberance of "Pickwick," and is more limited in its scenes and characters than any other novel he wrote, excepting "Hard Times" and "Great Expectations." But the description of the workhouse, its inmates and governors, is done in d.i.c.kens"s best style, and was a frontal attack on the Poor Law administration of the time. b.u.mble, indeed, has pa.s.sed into common use as the typical workhouse official of the least satisfactory sort. No less powerful than the picture of Oliver"s wretched childhood is the description of the thieves" kitchen, presided over by f.a.gin. Bill Sikes and the Artful Dodger are household words for criminals, and the character of f.a.gin is drawn with wonderful skill in this terrible view of the underworld of London.
_I.--The Parish Boy_
Oliver was born in the workhouse, and his mother died the same night.
Not even a promised reward of 10 could produce any information as to the boy"s father or the mother"s name. The woman was young, frail, and delicate--a stranger to the parish.
"How comes he to have any name at all, then?" said Mrs. Mann (who was responsible for the early bringing up of the workhouse children) to Mr.
b.u.mble, the parish beadle.
The beadle drew himself up with great pride, and said, "I invented it.
We name our foundings in alphabetical order. The last was a S; Swubble I named him. This was a T; Twist I named _him_. I have got names ready made to the end of the alphabet, and all the way through it again, when we come to Z."
"Why, you"re quite a literary character, sir," said Mrs. Mann.
Oliver, being now nine years old, was removed from the tender mercies of Mrs. Mann, in whose wretched home not one kind word or look had ever lighted the gloom of his infant years, and was taken into the workhouse.
Now the members of the board, who were long-headed men, had just established the rule that all poor people should have the alternative (for they would compel n.o.body, not they) of being starved by a gradual process in the house, or by a quick one out of it. All relief was inseparable from the workhouse, and the thin gruel issued three times a day to its inmates.
The system was in full operation for the first six months after Oliver Twist"s admission, and boys having generally excellent appet.i.tes, Oliver Twist and his companions suffered the tortures of slow starvation. Each boy had one porringer of gruel, and no more. At last the boys got so voracious and wild with hunger, that one, who was tall for his age and hadn"t been used to that sort of thing (for his father had kept a small cook"s shop), hinted darkly to his companions that unless he had another basin of gruel _per diem_ he was afraid he might some night happen to eat the boy who slept next him, a weakly youth of tender age. He had a wild, hungry eye, and they implicitly believed him. A council was held, lots were cast who should walk up to the master after supper that evening and ask for more, and it fell to Oliver Twist.
The evening arrived, the boys took their places. The master, in his cook"s uniform, stationed himself at the copper to ladle out the gruel; his pauper a.s.sistants ranged themselves behind him, the gruel was served out, and a long grace was said over the short commons.