“I have wandered a long distance； and for many hours； and I
know that I must soon die。 These streets！ I have no purpose but to
die。 When I left； I had a worse； but I am saved from adding that
guilt to the rest。 Cold； wet； and fatigue； are sufficient causes for my
being found dead： but I shall die of others； though I suffer from
these。 It was right that all that had sustained me should give way
at once； and that I should die of terror and my conscience。”
“Take courage；” said Mr Bucket。 “There’s only a few words
more。”
Those； too； were written at another time。 To all appearance；
almost in the dark。
“I have done all I could to be lost。 I shall be soon forgotten so；
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and shall disgrace him least。 I have nothing about me by which I
can be recognised。 This paper I part with now。 The place where I
shall lie down； if I can yet get so far； has been often in my mind。
Farewell。 Forgive。”
Mr Bucket； supporting me with his arm； lowered me gently into
my chair。 “Cheer up！ Don’t think me hard with you； my dear； but；
as soon as ever you feel equal to it； get your shoes on and be
ready。”
I did as he required； but I was left there a long time； praying for
my unhappy mother。 They were all occupied with the poor girl；
and I heard Mr Woodcourt directing them； and speaking to her
often。 At length he came in with Mr Bucket； and said that as it was
important to address her gently； he thought it best that I should
ask her for whatever information we desired to obtain。 There was
no doubt that she could now reply to questions； if she were
soothed； and not alarmed。 The questions； Mr Bucket said； were
how she came by the letter； what passed between her and the
person who gave her the letter； and where the person went。
Holding my mind as steadily as I could to these points； I went into
the next room with them。 Mr Woodcourt would have remained
outside； but at my solicitation went in with us。
The poor girl was sitting on the floor where they had laid her
down。 They stood around her though at a little distance； that she
might have air。 She was not pretty； and looked weak and poor； but
she had a plaintive and a good face； though it was still a little wild。
I kneeled on the ground beside her； and put her poor head on my
shoulder； whereupon she drew her arm round my neck； and burst
into tears。
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Bleak House 1111
“My poor girl；” said I； laying my face against her forehead； for
indeed I was crying too； and trembling； “it seems cruel to trouble
you now； but more depends on our knowing something about this
letter； than I could tell you in an hour。”
She began piteously declaring that she didn’t mean any harm；
she didn’t mean any harm； Mrs Snagsby。
“We are all sure of that；” said I。 “But pray tell me how you got
it。”
“Yes； dear lady； I will； and tell you true。 I’ll tell true； indeed；
Mrs Snagsby。”
“I am sure of that；” said I。 “And how was it？”
“I had been out on an errand； dear lady—long after it was
dark—quite late； and when I came home； I found a common…
looking person； all wet and muddy； looking up at our house。 When
she saw me coming in at the door； she called me back； and said did
I live here？ and I said yes； and she said she knew only one or two
places about here； but had lost her way； and couldn’t find them。 O
what shall I do； what shall I do！ They won’t believe me！ She didn’t
say any harm to me； and I didn’t say any harm to her； indeed； Mrs
Snagsby！”
It was necessary for her mistress to comfort her； which she did；
I must say； with a good deal of contribution； before she could be
got beyond this。
“She could not find those places；” said I。
“No！” cried the girl； shaking her head。 “No！ Couldn’t find them。
And she was so faint； and lame； and miserable； O so wretched！
that if you had seen her； Mr Snagsby； you’d have given her half…a…
crown； I know！”
“Well； Guster； my girl；” said he； at first not knowing what to
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Bleak House 1112
say。 “I hope I should。”
“And yet she was so well spoken；” said the girl； looking at me
with wide…open eyes； “that it made a person’s heart bleed。 And so
she said to me； did I know the way to the burying…ground？ And I
asked her which burying…ground？ And she said the poor burying…
ground。 And I told her I had been a poor child myself； and it was
according to parishes。 But she said she meant a poor burying…
ground not very far from here； where there was an archway； and a
step； and an iron gate。”
As I watched her face； and soothed her to go on； I saw that Mr
Bucket received this with a look which I could not separate from
one of alarm。
“O dear； dear！” cried the girl； pressing her hair back with her
hands； “what shall I do； what shall I do！ She meant the burying…
ground where the man was buried that took the sleeping stuff—
that you came home and told us of； Mr Snagsby—that frightened
me so； Mrs Snagsby。 O I am frightened again。 Hold me！”
“You are so much better now；” said I。 “Pray； pray tell me
more。”
“Yes I will； yes I will！ But don’t be angry with me； that’s a dear
lady； because I have been so ill。”
Angry with her； poor soul！
“There； now I will； now I will。 So she said； could I tell her how
to find it； and I said yes； and I told her； and she looked at me with
eyes like almost as if she was blind； and herself all waving back。
And so she took out the letter； and showed it me； and said if she
was to put that in the post…office； it would be rubbed out and not
minded and never sent； and would I take it from her； and send it；
and the messenger would be paid at the house？ And so I said yes；
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Bleak House 1113
if it was no harm； and she said no—no harm。 And so I took it from
her； and she said she had nothing to give me； and I said I was poor
myself and consequently wanted nothing。 And so she said God
bless you！ and went。”
“And did she go—？”
“Yes；” cried the girl； anticipating the inquiry； “yes！ she went the
way I had shown her。 Then I came in； and Mrs Snagsby came
behind me from somewhere； and laid hold of me； and I was
frightened。”
Mr Woodcourt took her kindly from me。 Mr Bucket wrapped
me up； and immediately we were in the street。 Mr Woodcourt
hesitated； but I said； “Don’t leave me now！” and Mr Bucket added；
“You’ll be better with us； we may want you； don’t lose time！”
I have the most confused impressions of that walk。 I recollect
that it was neither night nor day； that morning was dawning； but
the street lamps were not yet put out； that the sleet was still
falling； and that all the ways were deep with it。 I recollect a few
chilled people passing in the streets。 I recollect the wet housetops；
the clogged and bursting gutters and water…spouts； the mounds of
blackened ice and snow over which we passed； the narrowness of
the courts by which we went。 At the same time I remember that
the poor girl seemed to be yet telling her story audibly and plainly
in my hearing； that I could feel her resting on my arm； that the
stained house fronts put on human shapes and looked at me； that
great water gates seemed to be opening and closing in my head； or
in the air； and that the unreal things were more substantial than
the real。
At last we stood under a dark and miserable covered way；
where one lamp was burning over an iron gate； and where the
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Bleak House 1114
morning faintly struggled in。 The gate was closed。 Beyond it； was a
burial…ground—a dreadful spot in which the night was very slowly
stirring； but where I could dimly see heaps of dishonoured graves
and stones； hemmed in by filthy houses； with a few dull lights in
their windows； and on whose walls a thick humidity broke out like
a disease。 On the step at the gate； drenched in the fearful wet of
such a place； which oozed and splashed down everywhere； I saw；
with a cry of pity and horror； a woman lying—Jenny； the mother of
the dead child。
I ran forward； but they stopped me； and Mr Woodcourt
entreated me with the greatest earnestness； even with
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