The next day passed; and Monday afternoon brought to Mrs. Elliott the sad conviction that she had miscalculated as to the rapidity with which she could perform her work, and that she would not, after all, be prepared to meet Mr. Mudge with the rent on the day following. Knowing his unfeeling nature, she could not doubt that he would insist on their instantly vacating the apartment. This was to be avoided at all hazards. She knew her husband’s high spirit; and she feared for the consequences, if Mr. Mudge should be insolent.
Full of this thought, she took a light gold chain, which in happier days her husband had presented to her, and proceeded, with reluctant step, to the pawnbroker’s. It was drawing towards evening; and she hurried through the streets, scarcely daring to look to the right hand or to the left, lest she might meet with some interruption.
Solomon Fagin, a Jew, who fully sustained the reputation of his race, as an avaricious man wholly devoted to the love of gain, stood, with a cringing expression on his drawn-up features, behind the counter of his shop in David’s Alley. He was trafficking, or rather seemed to have just closed a sale, with a young gentleman well dressed and of prepossessing appearance. The latter made way politely for Mary, who was too much pre-occupied to acknowledge his courtesy.
“How much will you advance me on this?” asked she, hurriedly, extending the chain, which had originally been purchased for two guineas.
Solomon looked in her face cunningly, as if to estimate, by the degree of anxiety she displayed, how little he might venture to offer.
Mary was very nervous, and exceedingly anxious to get home before it grew much darker. This probably gave her an appearance of solicitude, which the Jew attributed to destitution.
“These things ish very sheap,” he at length said,—“dog-sheap: people don’t want ’em. I can’t offer you more than ten shillings, and shall lose on that.”
The young gentleman had been an attentive spectator of this scene. He fathomed the cunning of the Jew, and, advancing to the counter, took the chain in his hands.
“Come, Solomon, this is too bad! You should offer three times as much, and you would make a good bargain then. You know, as well as I do, that that chain never cost less than two guineas. Come, come! be honest for once.”
“It ish all very well,” said Solomon, who did not relish the interruption, “vor young shentleman to talk; but if young shentleman should keep a pawnbroker’s shop, he would change his mind.”