`Oh, brother!' cried old Martin, clasping his hands and lifting up his eyes. `oh, brother, brother! Were we strangers half our lives that you might breed a wretch like this, and I make life a desert by withering every flower that grew about me! Is it the natural end of your precepts and mine, that this should be the creature of your rearing, training, teaching, hoarding, striving for: and I the means of bringing him to punishment, when nothing can repair the wasted past!'
He sat down upon a chair as he spoke, and turning away his face, was silent for a few moments. Then with recovered energy he proceeded:
`But the accursed harvest of our mistaken lives shall be trodden down.
It is not too late for that. You are confronted with this man, you monster there; not to be spared, but to be dealt with justly. Hear what he says!
Reply, be silent, contradict, repeat, defy, do what you please. My course will be the same. Go on! And you,' he said to Chuffey, `for the love of your old friend, speak out, good fellow!'
`I have been silent for his love!' cried the old man. `He urged me to it. He made me promise it upon his dying bed. I never would have spoken, but for your finding out so much. I have thought about it ever since: I couldn't help that: and sometimes I have had it all before me in a dream: but in the day-time, not in sleep. Is there such a kind of dream?' said Chuffey, looking anxiously in old Martin's face.
As Martin made him an encouraging reply, he listened attentively to his voice, and smiled.
`Ah, aye!' he cried. `He often spoke to me like that. We were at school together, he and I. I couldn't turn against his son, you know--his only son, Mr. Chuzzlewit!'
`I would to Heaven you had been his son!' said Martin.
`You speak so like my dear old master,' cried the old man with a childish delight, `that I almost think I hear him. I can hear you quite as well as I used to hear him. It makes me young again. He never spoke unkindly to me, and I always understood him. I could always see him too, though my sight was dim. Well, well! He's dead, he's dead. He was very good to me, my dear old master!'
He shook his head mournfully over the brother's hand. At this moment Mark, who had been glancing out of the window, left the room.
`I couldn't turn against his only son, you know,' said Chuffey. `He has nearly driven me to do it sometimes; he very nearly did tonight. Ah!' cried the old man, with a sudden recollection of the cause. `Where is she?
She's not come home!'
`Do you mean his wife?' said Mr. Chuzzlewit.
`Yes.'
`I have removed her. She is in my care, and will be spared the present knowledge of what is passing here. She has known misery enough, without that addition.'
Jonas heard this with a sinking heart. He knew that they were on his heels, and felt that they were resolute to run him to destruction. Inch by inch the ground beneath him was sliding from his feet; faster and faster the encircling ruin contracted and contracted towards himself, its wicked centre, until it should close in and crush him.
And now he heard the voice of his accomplice stating to his face, with every circumstance of time and place and incident; and openly proclaiming, with no reserve, suppression, passion, or concealment; all the truth. The truth, which nothing would keep down; which blood would not smother, and earth would not hide; the truth, whose terrible inspiration seemed to change dotards into strong men; and on whose avenging wings, one whom he had supposed to be at the extremest corner of the earth came swooping down upon him.
He tried to deny it, but his tongue would not move. He conceived some desperate thought of rushing away, and tearing through the streets; but his limbs would as little answer to his will as his stark, stiff staring face. All this time the voice went slowly on, denouncing him. It was as if every drop of blood in the wood had found a voice to jeer him with.
When it ceased, another voice took up the tale, but strangely: for the old clerk, who had watched, and listened to the whole, and had wrung his hands from time to time, as if he knew its truth and could confirm it, broke in with these words:
`No, no, no! you're wrong; you're wrong--all wrong together! Have patience, for the truth is only known to me!'
`How can that be,' said his old master's brother, `after what you have heard? Besides, you said just now, above-stairs, when I told you of the accusation against him, that you knew he was his father's murderer.'
`Aye, yes! and so he was!' cried Chuffey, wildly. `But not as you suppose--not as you suppose. Stay! Give me a moment's time. I have it all here--all here! It was foul, foul, cruel, bad; but not as you suppose. Stay, stay!'
He put his hands up to his head, as if it throbbed or pained him. After looking about him in a wandering and vacant manner for some moments, his eyes rested upon Jonas, when they kindled up with sudden recollection and intelligence.
`Yes!' cried old Chuffey, `yes! That's how it was. It's all upon me now. He--he got up from his bed before he died, to be sure, to say that he forgave him; and he came down with me into this room; and when he saw him--his only son, the son he loved--his speech for-sook him: he had no speech for what he knew--and no one understood him except me. But I did--I did!'
Old Martin regarded him in amazement; so did his companions. Mrs. Gamp, who had said nothing yet; but had kept two-thirds of herself behind the door, ready for escape, and one-third in the room, ready for siding with the strongest party; came a little further in and remarked, with a sob, that Mr. Chuffey was `the sweetest old creetur goin'.'
`He bought the stuff,' said Chuffey, stretching out his arm towards Jonas while an unwonted fire shone in his eye, and lightened up his face;
`he bought the stuff, no doubt, as you have heard, and brought it home.
