While the quarrel was at its height the door opened, and Little Nell herself came in. She was followed by an elderly man with a hard, forbidding face, and so small that he was quite a dwarf. His black eyes were restless, sly, and cunning; his upper lip and chin were bristly with a coarse, hard beard; and his face bore a smile in which there was neither mirth nor pleasure.
For a few moments he stood listening to the angry voices of the two men; and when Nell's brother had flung himself out of the house in a fierce rage, the dwarf, whose name was Quilp, came forward, put his hand into his breast, and took out a bag of money. This he handed to the old man with the words, "I brought it myself, as, being in gold, it was too heavy for Nell to carry in her bag. She ought to get used to such loads though, for she will have gold enough when you are dead."
"I hope so," said the old man, with something like a frown.
"Hope so!" echoed the dwarf. "Neighbour, I wish I knew in what safe place you have placed all I have given you from time to time. But you keep your secret very close."
"My secret!" said the other, with a haggard look. "Yes, you are right. I—I—keep it close—very close."
The old man said no more, but taking the bag in his hand, turned away with a slow, uncertain step. The dwarf then took his leave, wondering as he went what the old man did with the money he had borrowed. After some days, however, he was able by means best known to himself to find out the truth of the matter.
Nell's grandfather was a gambler. The money Quilp lent him was gambled away night after night in the vain hope of winning a fortune for his grandchild. When the dwarf learnt the truth, he refused to give the old man any more money.
This made Nell's grandfather very unhappy, and the girl, seeing his misery, begged him to let her go and ask for the dwarf's help once more. He gave her leave, and the child brought a note in reply, to the effect that Quilp would visit the old man shortly.
One night, the third after Nell's visit to Quilp's house, the old man, who had been weak and ill all day, said he should not leave home. The child's eyes sparkled at the news, but her joy departed when she looked at his worn and sickly face.
"Two days," he said, "two whole clear days have passed, and there is no reply. What did he tell thee, Nell?"