Part 18 (1/2)

”Say not another word,” returned Mr. Gradgrind. ”You are childish. I will hear no more.” With which remark he led the culprits to their home in silence, into the presence of their fretful invalid mother, who was much annoyed at the disturbance they had created. While she was peevishly expressing her mind on the subject, Mr. Gradgrind was gravely pondering upon the matter.

”Whether,” he said, ”whether any instructor or servant can have suggested anything? Whether, in spite of all precautions, any idle story-book can have got into the house for Louisa or Thomas to read?

Because in minds that have been practically formed by rule and line, from the cradle upwards, this is incomprehensible.”

”Stop a bit!” cried his friend Bounderby. ”You have one of those Stroller's children in the school, Cecilia Jupe by name! I tell you what, Gradgrind, turn this girl to the right-about, and there is an end of it.”

”I am much of your opinion.”

”Do it at once,” said Bounderby, ”has always been my motto. Do you the same. Do this at once!”

”I have the father's address,” said his friend. ”Perhaps you would not mind walking to town with me?”

”Not the least in the world,” said Mr. Bounderby, ”as long as you do it at once!”

So Mr. Gradgrind and his friend immediately set out to find Cecilia Jupe, and to order her from henceforth to remain away from school. On the way there they met her. ”Now, girl,” said Mr. Gradgrind, ”take this gentleman and me to your father's; we are going there. What have you got in that bottle you are carrying?”

”It's the nine oils.”

”The what?” cried Mr. Bounderby.

”The nine oils, sir, to rub father with. It is what our people always use, sir, when they get any hurts in the ring,” replied the girl, ”they bruise themselves very bad sometimes.”

”Serves them right,” said Mr. Bounderby, ”for being idle.” The girl glanced up at his face with mingled astonishment and dread as he said this, but she led them on down a narrow road, until they stopped at the door of a little public house.

”This is it, sir,” she said. ”It's only crossing the bar, sir, and up the stairs, if you wouldn't mind; and waiting there for a moment till I get a candle. If you should hear a dog, sir, it's only Merrylegs, and he only barks.”

They followed the girl up some steep stairs, and stopped while she went on for a candle. Reappearing, with a face of great surprise, she said, ”Father is not in our room, sir. If you wouldn't mind walking in, sir?

I'll find him directly.”

They walked in; and Sissy having set two chairs for them, sped away with a quick, light step. They heard the doors of rooms above opening and shutting, as Sissy went from one to another in quest of her father. She came bounding down again in a great hurry, opened an old hair trunk, found it empty, and looked around with her face full of terror.

”Father must have gone down to the Booth, sir. I'll bring him in a minute!” She was gone directly, without her bonnet; with her long, dark, childish hair streaming behind her.

”What does she mean!” said Mr. Gradgrind. ”Back in a minute? It's more than a mile off.”

Before Mr. Bounderby could reply, a young man mentioned in the bills of the day as Mr. E.W.B. Childers,--justly celebrated for his daring vaulting act as the wild huntsman of the North American prairies, appeared. Upon entering into conversation with Mr. Gradgrind he informed that gentleman of his opinion that Jupe was off.

”Do you mean that he has deserted his daughter?” asked Mr. Gradgrind.

”I mean,” said Mr. Childers with a nod, ”that he has cut. He has been short in his leaps and bad in his tumbling lately, missed his tip several times, too. He was goosed last night, he was goosed the night before last, he was goosed to-day. He has lately got in the way of being always goosed, and he can't stand it.”

”Why has he been--so very much--goosed?” asked Mr. Gradgrind, forcing the word out of himself, with great solemnity and reluctance.

”His joints are turning stiff, and he is getting used up,” said Childers. ”He has his points as a Cackler still, a speaker, if the gentleman likes it better--but he can't get a living out of _that_. Now it's a remarkable fact, sir, that it cut that man deeper to know that his daughter knew of his being goosed than to go through with it. Jupe sent her out on an errand not an hour ago, and then was seen to slip out himself, with his dog behind him and a bundle under his arm. She will never believe it of her father, but he has cut away and left her.

”Poor Sissy! he had better have apprenticed her,” added Mr. Childers, ”Now, he leaves her without anything to take to. Her father always had it in his head, that she was to be taught the deuce-and-all of education. He has been picking up a bit of reading for her, here--and a bit of writing for her, there--and a bit of ciphering for her, somewhere else--these seven years. When Sissy got into the school here,” he pursued, ”he was as pleased as Punch. I suppose he had this move in his mind--he was always half cracked--and then considered her provided for.

If you should have happened to have looked in to-night to tell him that you were going to do her any little service,” added Mr. Childers, ”it would be very fortunate and well-timed.”

”On the contrary,” returned Mr. Gradgrind, ”I came to tell her that she could not attend our school any more. Still, if her father really has left her without any connivance on her part!--Bounderby, let me have a word with you.”