He said, with exceeding gravity, ‘Pardon me,’ and proceeded, with a mixture of the lowest spirits and the most intense enjoyment, to the peroration of his letter.
‘“I have now concluded.
It merely remains for me to substantiate these accusations; and then, with my ill-starred family, to disappear from the landscape on which we appear to be an encumbrance.
That is soon done.
It may be reasonably inferred that our baby will first expire of inanition, as being the frailest member of our circle; and that our twins will follow next in order.
So be it!
For myself, my Canterbury Pilgrimage has done much; imprisonment on civil process, and want, will soon do more.
I trust that the labour and hazard of an investigation—of which the smallest results have been slowly pieced together, in the pressure of arduous avocations, under grinding penurious apprehensions, at rise of morn, at dewy eve, in the shadows of night, under the watchful eye of one whom it were superfluous to call Demon—combined with the struggle of parental Poverty to turn it, when completed, to the right account, may be as the sprinkling of a few drops of sweet water on my funeral pyre.
I ask no more.
Let it be, in justice, merely said of me, as of a gallant and eminent naval Hero, with whom I have no pretensions to cope, that what I have done, I did, in despite of mercenary and selfish objects,
For England, home, and Beauty. ‘“Remaining always, &c. &c., WILKINS MICAWBER.”’
Much affected, but still intensely enjoying himself, Mr. Micawber folded up his letter, and handed it with a bow to my aunt, as something she might like to keep.
There was, as I had noticed on my first visit long ago, an iron safe in the room. The key was in it.
A hasty suspicion seemed to strike Uriah; and, with a glance at Mr. Micawber, he went to it, and threw the doors clanking open.
It was empty.
‘Where are the books?’ he cried, with a frightful face.
‘Some thief has stolen the books!’
Mr. Micawber tapped himself with the ruler.
‘I did, when I got the key from you as usual—but a little earlier—and opened it this morning.’
‘Don’t be uneasy,’ said Traddles. ‘They have come into my possession. I will take care of them, under the authority I mentioned.’
‘You receive stolen goods, do you?’ cried Uriah.
‘Under such circumstances,’ answered Traddles, ‘yes.’
What was my astonishment when I beheld my aunt, who had been profoundly quiet and attentive, make a dart at Uriah Heep, and seize him by the collar with both hands!
‘You know what I want?’ said my aunt.
‘A strait-waistcoat,’ said he.
‘No.
My property!’ returned my aunt.
‘Agnes, my dear, as long as I believed it had been really made away with by your father, I wouldn’t—and, my dear, I didn’t, even to Trot, as he knows—breathe a syllable of its having been placed here for investment.
But, now I know this fellow’s answerable for it, and I’ll have it! Trot, come and take it away from him!’
Whether my aunt supposed, for the moment, that he kept her property in his neck-kerchief, I am sure I don’t know; but she certainly pulled at it as if she thought so.
I hastened to put myself between them, and to assure her that we would all take care that he should make the utmost restitution of everything he had wrongly got.
This, and a few moments’ reflection, pacified her; but she was not at all disconcerted by what she had done (though I cannot say as much for her bonnet) and resumed her seat composedly.
During the last few minutes, Mrs. Heep had been clamouring to her son to be ‘umble’; and had been going down on her knees to all of us in succession, and making the wildest promises.
Her son sat her down in his chair; and, standing sulkily by her, holding her arm with his hand, but not rudely, said to me, with a ferocious look:
‘What do you want done?’
‘I will tell you what must be done,’ said Traddles.
‘Has that Copperfield no tongue?’ muttered Uriah,
‘I would do a good deal for you if you could tell me, without lying, that somebody had cut it out.’
‘My Uriah means to be umble!’ cried his mother.
‘Don’t mind what he says, good gentlemen!’
‘What must be done,’ said Traddles, ‘is this.
First, the deed of relinquishment, that we have heard of, must be given over to me now—here.’
‘Suppose I haven’t got it,’ he interrupted.
‘But you have,’ said Traddles; ‘therefore, you know, we won’t suppose so.’ And I cannot help avowing that this was the first occasion on which I really did justice to the clear head, and the plain, patient, practical good sense, of my old schoolfellow.
‘Then,’ said Traddles, ‘you must prepare to disgorge all that your rapacity has become possessed of, and to make restoration to the last farthing.
All the partnership books and papers must remain in our possession; all your books and papers; all money accounts and securities, of both kinds.
In short, everything here.’
‘Must it?
I don’t know that,’ said Uriah.
‘I must have time to think about that.’