He had made a poor show of playing the bully and evincing a desire to conciliate at the same time, but was so afraid of the old man that great drops had started out upon his brow; and they stood there yet. His unusual tone of voice and agitated manner had sufficiently expressed his fear; but his face would have done so now, without that aid, as he again walked to and fro, glancing at him by the candelight.
He stopped at the window to think. An opposite shop was lighted up; and the tradesman and a customer were reading some printed bill together across the counter. The sight brought him back, instantly, to the occupation he had forgotten. ‘Look here! Do you know of this? Is it found? Do you suspect me?’
A hand upon the door. ‘What’s that!’
‘A pleasant evenin’,’ said the voice of Mrs Gamp, ‘though warm, which, bless you, Mr Chuzzlewit, we must expect when cowcumbers is three for twopence. How does Mr Chuffey find his self to-night, sir?’
Mrs Gamp kept particularly close to the door in saying this, and curtseyed more than usual. She did not appear to be quite so much at her ease as she generally was.
‘Get him to his room,’ said Jonas, walking up to her, and speaking in her ear. ‘He has been raving to-night—stark mad. Don’t talk while he’s here, but come down again.’
‘Poor sweet dear!’ cried Mrs Gamp, with uncommon tenderness. ‘He’s all of a tremble.’
‘Well he may be,’ said Jonas, ‘after the mad fit he has had. Get him upstairs.’
She was by this time assisting him to rise.
‘There’s my blessed old chick!’ cried Mrs Gamp, in a tone that was at once soothing and encouraging. ‘There’s my darlin’ Mr Chuffey! Now come up to your own room, sir, and lay down on your bed a bit; for you’re a-shakin’ all over, as if your precious jints was hung upon wires. That’s a good creetur! Come with Sairey!’