reached the street, taking a dram from the bottle for his own

encouragement, and giving the boy a rap on the head with it as a

small taste for himself, Quilp very deliberately led the way to the

wharf, and reached it at between three and four o'clock in the

morning.

'Snug!' said Quilp, when he had groped his way to the wooden

counting-house, and opened the door with a key he carried about with

him. 'Beautifully snug! Call me at eight, you dog.'

With no more formal leave-taking or explanation, he clutched the

portmanteau, shut the door on his attendant, and climbing on the

desk, and rolling himself up as round as a hedgehog, in an old boat-

cloak, fell fast asleep.

Being roused in the morning at the appointed time, and roused with

difficulty, after his late fatigues, Quilp instructed Tom Scott to make a

fire in the yard of sundry pieces of old timber, and to prepare some

coffee for breakfast; for the better furnishing of which repast he

entrusted him with certain small moneys, to be expended in the

purchase of hot rolls, butter, sugar, Yarmouth bloaters, and other

articles of housekeeping; so that in a few minutes a savoury meal was

smoking on the board. With this substantial comfort, the dwarf

regaled himself to his heart's content; and being highly satisfied with

this free and gipsy mode of life (which he had often meditated, as

offering, whenever he chose to avail himself of it, an agreeable freedom

from the restraints of matrimony, and a choice means of keeping Mrs

Quilp and her mother in a state of incessant agitation and suspense),

bestirred himself to improve his retreat, and render it more

commodious and comfortable.

With this view, he issued forth to a place hard by, where sea- stores

were sold, purchased a second-hand hammock, and had it slung in

seamanlike fashion from the ceiling of the counting-house. He also

caused to be erected, in the same mouldy cabin, an old ship's stove

with a rusty funnel to carry the smoke through the roof; and these

arrangements completed, surveyed them with ineffable delight.

I've got a country-house like Robinson Crusoe,’ said the dwarf, ogling

the accommodations; 'a solitary, sequestered, desolate-island sort of

spot, where I can be quite alone when I have business on hand, and

be secure from all spies and listeners. Nobody near me here, but rats,

and they are fine stealthy secret fellows. I shall be as merry as a grig

among these gentry. I'll look out for one like Christopher, and poison

him - ha, ha, ha! Business though - business - we must be mindful of

business in the midst of pleasure, and the time has flown this

morning, I declare.'

The Old Curiosity Shop