Kitabı oku: «Большие надежды. Уровень 2 / Great Expectations», sayfa 11

Chapter 19

“Well!” said the pale young gentleman, “it’s all over now, I hope you’ll forgive me.”

I derived from this speech that Mr. Herbert Pocket (for Herbert was the pale young gentleman’s name) did not remember anything.

“That day Miss Havisham sent for me on a trial visit. I was meant to be engaged to Estella.”

“How did you bear your disappointment?” I asked.

“Pooh!” said he, “I didn’t care much for it. She’s a Tartar⁴⁹.”

“Miss Havisham?”

“I don’t say no to that, but I meant Estella. That girl is hard and haughty and capricious to the last degree. She was brought up by Miss Havisham to wreak revenge on all the male sex⁵⁰.”

“What relation is she to Miss Havisham?”

“None,” said he. “Only adopted.”

“What revenge do you mean?”

“It’s quite a story, we’ll talk about it later. Mr. Jaggers is your guardian, I understand?” he went on.

“Yes.”

“You know he is Miss Havisham’s man of business and solicitor, and has her confidence?”

I answered with a constraint, that I saw Mr. Jaggers in Miss Havisham’s house.

“He was so obliging⁵¹ as to suggest my father for your tutor. Of course he knew about my father from his connection with Miss Havisham. My father is Miss Havisham’s cousin.”

Herbert Pocket was still a pale young gentleman. He had not a handsome face, but it was better than handsome: it was extremely amiable and cheerful. His figure was a little ungainly.

As he was so communicative, I told him my small story. I mentioned that I was brought up in a country place, and knew very little of the ways of politeness. So I will take it as a great kindness in him if he gives me a hint whenever he saw something wrong.

“With pleasure,” said he, “Will you do me the favour to begin at once to call me by my Christian name, Herbert?”

I informed him in exchange that my Christian name was Philip.

“No,” said he, smiling, “Would you mind Handel⁵² for a familiar name? There’s a charming piece of music by Handel, called the Harmonious Blacksmith⁵³.”

“Handel – why not?”

“Then, my dear Handel,” said he, “here is the dinner!”

It was a nice little dinner. Everything was delightful. We had made some progress in the dinner, when I reminded Herbert of Miss Havisham.

“True,” he replied. “And Handel, in London it is not the custom to put the knife in the mouth – for fear of accidents – the fork is reserved for that use.”

He offered these friendly suggestions in such a lively way, that we both laughed and I scarcely blushed.

“Now,” he pursued, “concerning Miss Havisham. Miss Havisham, you must know, was a spoilt child. Her mother died when she was a baby, and her father denied her nothing⁵⁴. Her father was a country gentleman down in your part of the world, and was a brewer. Well! Mr. Havisham was very rich and very proud. So was his daughter.”

“Miss Havisham was an only child?” I hazarded.

“Stop a moment, I am coming to that. No, she was not an only child; she had a half-brother⁵⁵. Her father privately married again – his cook, I rather think.”

“I thought he was proud,” said I.

“My good Handel, so he was. He married his second wife privately, because he was proud, and in course of time she died. When she was dead, I apprehend he first told his daughter everything, and then the son became a part of the family. As the son grew a young man, he turned out riotous, extravagant, undutiful – altogether bad. At last his father disinherited him. But he softened when he was dying, and gave him something, though less than to Miss Havisham. Miss Havisham was now an heiress. Her half-brother had debts. Now, I come to the cruel part of the story. There appeared a certain man, who made love to Miss Havisham. I never saw him (for this happened five-and-twenty years ago, before you and I were, Handel), but my father mentioned that he was a showy man⁵⁶. Well! This man pursued Miss Havisham closely, and she passionately loved him. There is no doubt that she perfectly idolized him. Your guardian was not at that time in Miss Havisham’s counsels. She was too haughty and too much in love. Her relations were poor and scheming, with the exception of my father; he was poor enough, but not jealous. The only independent one among them, he warned her that she was doing too much for this man. She angrily ordered my father out of the house, in his presence, and my father did not see her anynore.”

I remember her words, “Matthew will come and see me at last when I am laid dead upon that table.” So I asked Herbert whether his father was so inveterate against her?

“It’s not that,” said he, “to return to the man and make an end of him. The marriage day was fixed, the wedding dresses were bought, the wedding tour was planned out, the wedding guests were invited. The day came, but not the bridegroom. He wrote her a letter – ”

“Which she received,” I said, “when she was dressing for her marriage? At twenty minutes to nine?”

“Yes,” Herbert nodded, “at which she afterwards stopped all the clocks.”

“Is that all the story?” I asked.

“All I know of it. They think that the man to whom she gave her misplaced confidence acted throughout in concert⁵⁷ with her half-brother. They shared the profits.”

“I wonder he didn’t marry her and get all the property,” said I. “What became of the two men?”

“They fell into deeper shame and degradation – if there can be deeper – and ruin.”

“Are they alive now?”

“I don’t know.”

“You said just now that Estella was not related to Miss Havisham, but adopted. When adopted?”

Herbert shrugged his shoulders.

“Estella was always with Miss Havisham. I really don’t know. And now, Handel, all that I know about Miss Havisham, you know.”

“And all that I know,” I retorted, “you know.”