"Pip, I couldn't! He's fearfully simple and straight in these things. It would break him up."
"I know him well enough," said Pip, "to be quite certain that you ought to tell him. He can't eat you, and he'll respect your pluck in being frank about it. If he finds out by accident, though—"
"You are right, Pip. I'll do it."
"Good! If you'll do that, I'll promise you something in return. I'll give Master Cullyngham such a quarter of an hour of his own previous history that he'll leave the place to-morrow morning and never darken its doors, or any other doors I care to specify, again. Now, you write straight off to your Governor; or, better still, make an excuse and run up to town and see him to-morrow, and leave me to tackle friend Cullyngham. I think I shall enjoy my interview more than you will."
Mr. Rupert Cullyngham had divested himself of his dress-coat, and was engaged in unfastening a neatly tied white tie, when his bedroom door opened and Pip came in.
"Cullyngham," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone, "you must leave this house to-morrow morning."
Cullyngham turned and surveyed his visitor for a moment with some amusement. Then he said,—
"Certainly! No idea you had bought the place. Can I have a trap, or must I walk?"
Pip did not rise to the level of this airy badinage. On the contrary, he was brusque and rude.