interested in Arthur since his reverses than formerly； now regarding him
as one who was true to the place and had taken up his freedom。 Many of
them came out to look after him； and to observe to one another； with
great unctuousness； that he was 'pulled down by it。' Mrs Plornish
and her father stood at the top of the steps at their own end； much
depressed and shaking their heads。
There was nobody visibly in waiting when Arthur and Mr Rugg arrived
at the Counting…house。 But an elderly member of the Jewish persuasion；
preserved in rum； followed them close； and looked in at the glass before
Mr Rugg had opened one of the day's letters。
'Oh！' said Mr Rugg； looking up。 'How do you do？ Step in……Mr Clennam； I
think this is the gentleman I was mentioning。'
This gentleman explained the object of his visit to be 'a tyfling madder
ob bithznithz；' and executed his legal function。
'Shall I acpany you； Mr Clennam？' asked Mr Rugg politely； rubbing his
hands。
'I would rather go alone； thank you。 Be so good as send me my clothes。'
Mr Rugg in a light airy way replied in the affirmative； and shook hands
with him。 He and his attendant then went down…stairs； got into the first
conveyance they found； and drove to the old gates。
'Where I little thought； Heaven forgive me；' said Clennam to himself；
'that I should ever enter thus！'
Mr Chivery was on the Lock； and Young John was in the Lodge： either
newly released from it； or waiting to take his own spell of duty。 Both
were more astonished on seeing who the prisoner was； than one might have
thought turnkeys would have been。 The elder Mr Chivery shook hands with
him in a shame…faced kind of way； and said； 'I don't call to mind；
sir； as I was ever less glad to see you。' The younger Mr Chivery； more
distant； did not shake hands with him at all； he stood looking at him
in a state of indecision so observable that it even came within the
observation of Clennam with his heavy eyes and heavy heart。 Presently
afterwards； Young John disappeared into the jail。
As Clennam knew enough of the place to know that he was required to
remain in the Lodge a certain time； he took a seat in a corner； and
feigned to be occupied with the perusal of letters from his pocket。
They did not so engross his attention； but that he saw； with gratitude；
how the elder Mr Chivery kept the Lodge clear of prisoners； how he
signed to some； with his keys； not to e in； how he nudged others with
his elbows to go out； and how he made his misery as easy to him as he
could。
Arthur was sitting with his eyes fixed on the floor； recalling the past；
brooding over the present； and not attending to either； when he felt
himself touched upon the shoulder。 It was by Young John； and he said；
'You can e now。'
He got up and followed Young John。 When they had gone a step or two
within the inner iron…gate； Young John turned and said to him：
'You want a room。 I have got you one。'
'I thank you heartily。'
Young John turned again； and took him in at the old doorway； up the old
staircase； into the old room。 Arthur stretched out his hand。 Young John
looked at it； looked at him……sternly……swelled； choked； and said：
'I don't know as I can。 No； I find I can't。 But I thought you'd like the
room； and here it is for you。'
Surprise at this inconsistent behaviour yielded when he was gone （he
went away directly） to the feelings which the empty room awakened in
Clennam's wounded breast； and to the crowding associations with the
one good and gentle creature who had sanctified it。 Her absence in his
altered fortunes made it； and him in it； so very desolate and so much in
need of such a face of love and truth； that he turned against the
wall to weep； sobbing out； as his heart relieved itself； 'O my Little
Dorrit！'
CHAPTER 27。 The Pupil of the Marshalsea
The day was sunny； and the Marshalsea； with the hot noon striking
upon it； dropped into a solitary
arm…chair； itself as faded as any debtor in the jail； and yielded
himself to his thoughts。
In the unnatural peace of having gone through the dreaded arrest； and
got there；……the first change of feeling which the prison most monly
induced； and from which dangerous resting…place so many men had slipped
down to the depths of degradation and disgrace by so many ways；……he
could think of some passages in his life； almost as if he were removed
from them into another state of existence。 Taking into account where he
was； the interest that had first brought him there when he had been free
to keep away； and the gentle presence that was equally inseparable from
the walls and bars about him and from the impalpable remembrances of his
later life which no walls or bars could imprison； it was not remarkable
that everything his memory turned upon should bring him round again to
Little Dorrit。 Yet it was remarkable to him； not because of the fact
itself； but because of the reminder it brought with it； how much the
dear little creature had influenced his better resolutions。
None of us clearly know to whom or to what we are indebted in this wise；
until some marked stop in the whirling wheel of life brings the right
perception with it。 It es with sickness； it es with sorrow； it
es with the loss of the dearly loved； it is one of the most frequent
uses of adversity。 It came to Clennam in his adversity； strongly and
tenderly。 'When I first gathered myself together；' he thought； 'and
set something like purpose before my jaded eyes； whom had I before me；
toiling on； for a good object's sake； without encouragement； without
notice； against ignoble obstacles that would have turned an army of
received heroes and heroines？ One weak girl！ When I tried to conquer
my misplaced love； and to be generous to the man who was more fortunate
than I； though he should never know it or repay me with a gracious word；
in whom had I watched patience； self…denial； self…subdual； charitable
construction； the noblest generosity of the affections？ In the same poor
girl！ If I； a man； with a man's advantages and means and energies； had
slighted the whisper in my heart； that if my father had erred； it was my
first duty to conceal the fault and to repair it； what youthful figure
with tender feet going almost bare on the damp ground； with spare hands
ever working； with its slight shape but half protected from the
sharp weather； would have stood before me to put me to shame？ Little
Dorrit's。' So always as he sat alone in the faded chair； thinking。
Always； Little Dorrit。 Until it seemed to him as if he met the reward of
having wandered away from her； and suffered anything to pass between him
and his remembrance of her virtues。
His door was opened； and the head of the elder Chivery was put in a very
little way； without being turned towards him。
'I am off the Lock； Mr Clennam； and going out。 Can I do anything for
you？'
'Many thanks。 Nothing。'
'You'll excuse me opening the door；' said Mr Chivery； 'but I couldn't
make you hear。'
'Did you knock？' 'Half…a…dozen times。'
Rousing himself； Clennam observed that the prison had awakened from its
noontide doze； that the inmates were loitering about the shady yard； and
that it was late in the afternoon。 He had been thinking for hours。 'Your
things is e；' said Mr Chivery； 'and my son is going to carry 'em
up。 I should have sent 'em up but for his wishing to carry 'em himself。
Indeed he would have 'em himself； and so I couldn't send 'em up。 Mr
Clennam； could I say a word to you？'
'Pray e in；' said Arthur； for Mr Chivery's head was still put in at
the door a very little way； and Mr Chivery had but one ear upon him；
instead of both eyes。 This was native delicacy in Mr Chivery……true
politeness； though his exterior had very much of a turnkey about it； and
not the least of a gentleman。
'Thank you； sir；' said Mr Chivery； without advancing； 'it's no odds me
ing in。 Mr Clennam； don't you take no notice of my son （if you'll
be so good） in case you find him cut up anyways difficult。 My son has a
'art； and my son's 'art is in the right place。 Me and his mother knows
where to find it； and we find it sitiwated correct。'
With this mysterious speech； Mr Chivery took his ear away and shut the
door。 He might have been gone ten minutes； when his son succeeded him。
'Here's your portmanteau；' he said to Arthur； putting it carefully down。
'It's very kind of you。 I am ashamed that you should have the trouble。'
He was gone before it came to that； but soon returned； saying exactly as
before； 'Here's your black box：' which he also put down with care。
'I am very sensible of this attention。 I hope we may shake hands now； Mr
John。'
Young John； however； drew back； turning his right wrist in a socket made
of his left thumb and middle…finger and said as he had said at first；
'I don't know as I can。 No； I find I can't！' He then stood regarding the
prisoner sternly； though with a swelling humour in his eyes that looked
like pity。
'Why are you angry with me；' said Clennam； 'and yet so ready to do me
these kind services？ There must be some mistake between us。 If I have
done anything to occasion it I am sorry。'
'No mistake； sir；' returned John； turning the wrist backwards and
forwards in the socket； for which it was rather tight。 'No mistake； sir；
in the feelings with which my eyes behold you at the present moment！ If
I r Clennam……which I am not；
and if you weren't under a cloud……which you are； and if it wasn't
against all rules of the Marshalsea……which it is； those feelings are
such； that they would stimulate me； more to having it out with you in
a Round on the present spot than to anything else I could name。' Arthur
looked at him for a moment in some wonder； and some little anger。 'Well；
well！' he said。 'A mistake； a mistake！' Turning away； he sat down with a
heavy sigh in the faded chair again。
Young John followed him with his eyes； and； after a short pause； cried
out； 'I beg your pardon！'
'Freely granted；' said Clennam； waving his hand without raising his
sunken head。 'Say no more。 I am not worth it。'
'This furniture； sir；' said Young John in a voice of mild and soft
explanation； 'belongs to me。 I am in the habit of letting it out to
parties without furniture； th