第185章
- NICHOLAS NICKLEBY
- Charles Dickens
- 748字
- 2016-03-02 16:33:47
The conversation which ensued was a long one, and when it was over, a secret conference of almost equal duration took place between brother Ned and Tim Linkinwater in another room. It is no disparagement to Nicholas to say, that before he had been closeted with the two brothers ten minutes, he could only wave his hand at every fresh expression of kindness and sympathy, and sob like a little child.
At length brother Ned and Tim Linkinwater came back together, when Tim instantly walked up to Nicholas and whispered in his ear in a very brief sentence (for Tim was ordinarily a man of few words), that he had taken down the address in the Strand, and would call upon him that evening, at eight. Having done which, Tim wiped his spectacles and put them on, preparatory to hearing what more the brothers Cheeryble had got to say.
`Tim,' said brother Charles, `you understand that we have an intention of taking this young gentleman into the counting-house?'
Brother Ned remarked that Tim was aware of that intention, and quite approved of it; and Tim having nodded, and said he did, drew himself up and looked particularly fat, and very important. After which, there was a profound silence.
`I'm not coming an hour later in the morning, you know,' said Tim, breaking out all at once, and looking very resolute. `I'm not going to sleep in the fresh air--no, nor I'm not going into the country either. A pretty thing at this time of day, certainly. Pho!'
`Damn your obstinacy, Tim Linkinwater,' said brother Charles, looking at him without the faintest spark of anger, and with a countenance radiant with attachment to the old clerk. `Damn your obstinacy, Tim Linkinwater, what do you mean, sir?'
`It's forty-four year,' said Tim, making a calculation in the air with his pen, and drawing an imaginary line before he cast it up, `forty-four year, next May, since I first kept the books of Cheeryble, Brothers. I've opened the safe every morning all that time (Sundays excepted) as the clock struck nine, and gone over the house every night at half-past ten (except on Foreign Post nights, and then twenty minutes before twelve) to see the doors fastened, and the fires out. I've never slept out of the back-attic one single night. There's the same mignonette box in the middle of the window, and the same four flower-pots, two on each side, that I brought with me when I first came. There an't--I've said it again and again, and I'll maintain it--there an't such a square as this in the world. I know there an't,' said Tim, with sudden energy, and looking sternly about him.
`Not one. For business or pleasure, in summer-time or winter--I don't care which--there's nothing like it. There's not such a spring in England as the pump under the archway. There's not such a view in England as the view out of my window; I've seen it every morning before I shaved, and I ought to know something about it. I have slept in that room,' added Tim, sinking his voice a little, `for four-and-forty year; and if it wasn't inconvenient, and didn't interfere with business, I should request leave to die there.'
`Damn you, Tim Linkinwater, how dare you talk about dying?' roared the twins by one impulse, and blowing their old noses violently.
`That's what I've got to say, Mr Edwin and Mr Charles,' said Tim, squaring his shoulders again. `This isn't the first time you've talked about superannuating me; but, if you please, we'll make it the last, and drop the subject for evermore.'
With these words, Tim Linkinwater stalked out, and shut himself up in his glass case, with the air of a man who had had his say, and was thoroughly resolved not to be put down.
The brothers interchanged looks, and coughed some half-dozen times without speaking.
`He must be done something with, brother Ned,' said the other, warmly;`we must disregard his old scruples; they can't be tolerated, or borne.
He must be made a partner, brother Ned; and if he won't submit to it peaceably, we must have recourse to violence.'
`Quite right,' replied brother Ned, nodding his head as a man thoroughly determined; `quite right, my dear brother. If he won't listen to reason, we must do it against his will, and show him that we are determined to exert our authority. We must quarrel with him, brother Charles.'