Great Expectations (5 page)

“Compeyson took me on as a partner. He set up the swindles—and the forgery, and the stolen money—and I did the dirty work. He had brains, but no heart!

“When we were caught, Compeyson looked like a gentleman. I looked like a common wretch. He swore the only guilty one was me. He got seven years,
while I got fourteen. I swore I would smash his face one day!”

Magwitch pounded his fist on the table. He stopped to catch his breath.

“I escaped the prison ship, and so did Compeyson. I caught him on the marshes, and we fought the night I first met you. I made sure he was sent back to the Hulks. I never heard from him again.”

Magwitch told me that Compeyson was a friend of Miss Havisham’s half-brother.
He
was the man who’d pretended to love her. He was the one who left her on her wedding day!

The pieces of this strange puzzle were starting to fit together.

Herbert and I had to get Magwitch away from Compeyson. In a week, we moved him to Herbert’s girlfriend’s house at Mill Pond Bank. He would be safer there. The house was right on the river. Magwitch and I were catching a
steamer out of England. Our escape would be fast and easy.

Every evening I rowed past the house. I watched for a signal from Herbert. Herbert would tell us when it was safe to go.

One day Mr. Jaggers invited me to dinner, and I accepted.

I took a coach to Jaggers’s house. Molly, the housekeeper, served the food as soon as I got there.

“Miss Havisham sent me a note, Mr. Pip,” said my host. “She wishes to see you. You’ll go, won’t you?”

I planned to go the next day. Jaggers had more news. Drummle and Estella were married! I had been so busy with Magwitch that I had forgotten all about them!

Molly brought out the dessert. Again she reminded me of someone I knew. Her eyes and the way she moved her hands reminded me of—Estella! Could this be Estella’s real mother?

*   *   *

I couldn’t stop thinking about Molly and Estella all night. I left Jaggers’s house early and went home.

When the sun finally rose, I took the coach to Miss Havisham’s house. It was gray and bleak. The garden was in ruins. The paths were overgrown. Most sad of all was the thought that Estella was gone. She was Mrs. Drummle now. She would never live with Miss Havisham again.

Miss Havisham sat in the banquet room. She looked so lonely that I almost felt sorry for her.

“Who is it?” she asked. “Come closer so I can see you.”

“It is I, Pip,” I said, and entered the room.

“Thank you for coming,” she replied.

I brought a chair to the hearth and sat down. Miss Havisham looked scared!

“I am not made of stone, you know,” she began. “Can you believe that there
is anything human in my heart?”

She stretched out her hand, but pulled it back before she touched me.

“If you can ever forgive me, pray do it!” she said. “Even if it is years from now and my broken heart is dust.”

“Miss Havisham,” I said. “I forgive you now. I need forgiveness, too, for the hurt I’ve caused others.”

“If I could undo what I have done to Estella, I would,” cried Miss Havisham. She wrung her hands in despair. “I regret it! I regret it so much!”

“Whose child is Estella?” I asked gently.

Miss Havisham shook her head.

“You don’t know?”

She shook her head again.

“Mr. Jaggers brought her, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” she said. “Jaggers brought her to me when she was only two or three. I called her Estella. Her real mother had been charged with murder. Jaggers was her lawyer. He didn’t tell me anything
else about her mother—not even her name.”

Miss Havisham and I parted at twilight. The dying light matched my mood. In the courtyard, I turned to take a last look at the old house.

Flames were shooting up in the window of the banquet room! I took the stairs two at a time and burst into the room.

Miss Havisham’s faded wedding dress had caught fire! She was shrieking, “Fire! Fire! Save me!”

I threw my coat over her and pushed her to the floor, hitting at the flames. But it was not enough!

I swept the table clear of its feast. The rotten wedding cake smashed to the floor. I wrapped Miss Havisham in the tablecloth.

She screamed like a wild animal. She tried to break free, but I held her tightly.

At last the fire was out. Only smoke and cinders were left. Miss Havisham
lay unconscious beside me.

For the first time, I became aware of my hands. They were burned raw from the fire. The pain was unbearable.

A doctor soon arrived and wrapped my hands. We put Miss Havisham to bed. She was weak with shock. And her burns were serious. Still, we hoped she would be fine with rest.

Before leaving, I whispered in her ear, “I forgive you.” I hoped she heard me.

My left arm was burned all the way to the shoulder. My right arm was not as bad. Herbert helped me change the bandages.

“Last night Magwitch told me that he had been married,” he said as he wrapped a clean bandage around my arm. “His wife was jealous. They say she murdered a woman.”

“How? When?” I asked, excited.

“Jaggers took the case,” replied Herbert. “No one saw the crime. She didn’t have to go to jail. She and Magwitch had a child who was about your age when he met you in the churchyard. You reminded him of his lost child. That is one of the reasons why Magwitch
helped you all these years.”

I felt feverish. My breath came in short gasps.

“Herbert,” I said, “I think the man we are hiding is Estella’s father!”

I went to see Jaggers the next day. I had to know the truth.

“Miss Havisham told me you brought her a child,” I said. “She never knew who the mother was, but I do. I saw Estella’s mother in these rooms just two days ago.”

Mr. Jaggers said nothing. He was looking at the toes of his boots.

“Really?” he said finally.

I told him Magwitch’s and Miss Havisham’s stories.

“Pip,” he said at last, “there are thousands of poor children living in the street. I thought if I could just save one life, it would be performing a miracle. This child was the one I decided to save.

“Her father was in and out of jail.
Her mother was accused of a crime. I cleared the woman’s name and she gave me the child. I found the little girl a home. I gave the woman a job. The secret was mine alone. Now it is yours as well.”

At last I knew the truth.

Monday morning I awoke with a fever. My left arm was swollen and very red. The pain was great. I could not stand to have anyone touch it.

I slept for two days. Herbert changed my bandages every few hours. He gave me cooling drinks. We both knew I had to be well enough to board the steamer out of England with Magwitch on Wednesday.

Our friend Startop had agreed to help row the boat out to the steamer.

On Wednesday, the sun shone hot, and the wind blew cold. It was March. I wore a heavy coat and carried one bag. My left arm was in a sling.

We rowed downstream to Mill Pond Bank. Magwitch was waiting for us. He quickly jumped into the boat.

“Dear boy!” he said, putting his arm on my shoulder. “Faithful dear boy, well done. Thankee! Thankee!”

Herbert and Startop rowed and rowed until the sun went down. We needed to be far down the river to catch the steamer.

“What freedom!” cried Magwitch. “How grand it is to sit next to my dear boy and have a smoke. The four walls were making me sick.”

“If all goes well,” I said, “you will be free and safe in just a few hours.”

Soon night fell. The moon was full. We waited in the boat, shivering. It was half past one when we finally saw the smoke of the steamer.

Magwitch and I got our bags. I said a tearful good-bye to Herbert. We waited for the steamer to get closer. We would call for the captain to let us aboard.

Suddenly another boat shot out from the bank. It had been waiting in the shadows. There were three men on board. One of them was a policeman. He stood up and shouted, “You have an escaped convict in your boat! His name is Abel Magwitch. Arrest that man!”

The boat crashed right into ours. Compeyson stood on the deck of the other boat! And the steamer was still moving toward us!

Magwitch jumped at Compeyson, and the pair fell overboard into the river. They struggled for a moment, and then they both went underwater. We scanned the river for a sign of either man.

At last I spied a man swimming. It was Magwitch! The policeman grabbed him and hauled him into the boat. Chains were quickly locked to his wrists and ankles. He was captured!

Magwitch was badly hurt. A broken rib had injured one of his lungs, and he
had a deep cut on his head.

Compeyson was dead. He had drowned.

I went with Magwitch to the prison in London. It was my place to stay by his side.

I did not fear or hate him anymore. He had been generous and loving to me through many years. He was better to me than I had been to Joe.

In prison, Magwitch grew very ill. I visited him every day. Though his face was pale, his eyes lit up whenever I entered his cell. He could only whisper his fears and regrets. He was always so tired.

The court found Magwitch guilty of murder. The police didn’t believe that Compeyson had drowned accidentally. Magwitch would remain in jail for the rest of his life. He grew sicker, and I knew the end was near.

“Pip,” he said as I sat down by his bed one morning. “Are you always the
first visitor through the prison gate?”

“Yes,” I said. “I don’t want to lose a minute of time.”

“Thankee, dear boy, thankee,” he replied. “God bless you! You’ve never deserted me, dear boy.”

I pressed his hand.

“Are you in much pain today?” I asked.

“Don’t worry, dear boy,” he said, and fell against the pillow. He was too weak to speak another word.

The guard made a noise outside the cell. My visiting time was over.

“Dear Magwitch, can you understand what I am saying?” I asked.

His pale eyes stared at the ceiling. He pressed my hand.

“You had a child once. You loved her but lost her,” I said.

He pressed my hand even harder.

“She is living now. She is a beautiful lady. And I love her!” I blurted out.

Magwitch raised my hand to his lips.
He looked peacefully up at the ceiling. Then, quietly, his head dropped onto his chest. It was over.

I said a final good-bye to my dear Magwitch.

With Magwitch gone and Herbert away on business, I was sick, lonely, and poor. My head felt like lead. My arms and legs ached. I lay on the sofa for days in a semi-delirious state.

One day two men came to collect money I owed for a bill. But I didn’t have any money to give them. I didn’t work. My only income had been Magwitch’s money. The men asked me to come with them.

“I would if I could,” I said. “But I might die on the way.”

I did not hear their reply. My mind sank under the flood of my fever. For days I was without reason.

I dreamed about Joe. Once I opened
my eyes in the night and saw Joe seated in a chair by my bed. It was such a strange dream.

Once in the day, I opened my eyes and saw Joe sitting in the window seat. He was smoking his pipe and reading one of my books.

I asked the ghost if he would bring me a cold glass of water. The hand that gave me the drink was Joe’s.

At last, I awoke and said, “Is it you, Joe?”

I heard his dear old voice answer, “Yes, old chap.”

“Oh, Joe, you break my heart!” I replied. “I’ve treated you terribly. Don’t be so good to me!”

Joe laid his hand on my forehead and looked into my eyes.

“We’re old friends, dear Pip,” he said. “I would do anything for you, anything at all.”

“Have you been here the whole time, Joe?” I asked.

“Pretty much, old chap,” replied Joe. “We got a letter telling us about your illness. Biddy told me to take as much time as was needed to get you well again.”

“Is Miss Havisham dead, Joe?” I asked. I did not know if she recovered from the fire.

“She died a week after you took ill,” Joe replied.

“What happened to her property and her riches?”

“Most of her money went to Estella,” said Joe, as I slipped back into sleep.

Slowly my health returned. Joe took such good care of me that I felt as if I were a little child again.

One day he carried me outside to an open carriage. We drove out into the country to enjoy the sweet smells of summer.

Finally, I could take a few steps on my own.

“See, Joe!” I cried. “Soon I will walk again.”

“Do not overdo it, Pip,” said Joe. “But I shall be happy to see you up and about, sir.”

Joe’s last word upset me. It seemed that the better I got, the more strangely Joe treated me.

One night Joe asked me, “Are you stronger, old chap?”

“Yes, dear Joe, I’m getting stronger every day thanks to you.”

The next morning Joe was gone. He had left a note that said I was well enough to live my life as a gentleman again, and he did not want to be a bother to me. He was going back home where he belonged. His note was signed “Ever the best of friends.”

With the note was a receipt for my bills. Joe had paid them all!

What could I do but follow him to the forge? I wanted to thank him. And I planned to ask Biddy to marry me.

Maybe she would forgive me, if she saw that I had changed. We could make a good life together.

Three days later, I stepped onto the marshes again. I walked to the forge and listened for Joe’s hammer. But the forge was dark. The door was locked.

The windows of the house were full of flowers. When I knocked, Biddy opened the door with a cry of surprise. Joe was beside her. They were both dressed in their Sunday best. And they both looked so very happy.

“It’s my wedding day!” cried Biddy joyfully. “I am married to Joe!”

I was thankful that I had not told Joe of my plan to marry Biddy. They were both so excited to see me. I could not spoil their happiness.