Chapter I

It was ten o’clock! In the morning! The Easterly sun came down bright upon busy streets and grimy thoroughfares, and quiet places in the far off country. It was eleven o’clock! In the morning! The sun lighted up city churches and the broad river, and shone into death chambers, in houses at the doors of which stood mutes. It was twelve o’clock! Noon! Broad, bright, unwinking noon! The sun gleamed on many roofs――and on market gardens in the suburbs, and on potato cans in the streets, and into the counting house of Dombey and Son.

The clerks worked noiselessly that day――almost breathlessly. Many pens scratched on the paper, and yet no word was spoken. For Carker was there! Carker the smooth, the oily――the velvetty――the sly.

The sun gleamed through the window panes――it fell on Carker――and on Carker’s teeth. And still it gleamed――still it sparkled after the glass door had noiselessly opened, and before Carker was seen standing the form――the stately――cold――wifeless――childless form of Mr. Dombey!

There was a long pause. You could have heard all the pens going in the outer office. A long pause――long――very――very long. Carker spoke first, and when he spoke he seemed all teeth――white glistening teeth――like a shark of smooth tongue and oily address――accustomed to good society.

“Mr. Dombey――I delight to see you――I feel honoured――much honoured――deeply honoured――by this visit.”

There was another pause――longer than the first――Oh, yes! much longer! Eight minutes longer!

And Mr. Dombey drew himself up――up! High! higher! like the Genie in the Arabian Tales, till it appeared (to the eye of Perch which eye happened to be accidentally applied at the keyhole)――that the top of Mr. Dombey’s hat had touched――nay lifted off the roof of the counting house of Dombey and Son.

“Ha!” said Mr. Dombey, and Perch being frightened fell backwards upon a nail, and the pens in the outer office stopped.

“Ha! ha!” said Mr. Dombey――“here――come here――all of you,――and learn how to crush a viper.”

The clerks came accordingly――thronging about the door――with white faces and clenched hands――excepting Robinson, who was of a merry turn of mind, and who said audibly “here’s a lark.”

“Thus”――said Mr. Dombey, “thus it is I crush a viper.” His wild, big, grey eyes were fixed, yet flashing,――his long gaunt form worked and quivered like a galvanized corpse,――his face was as the face of a roasting demon!

Nobody saw anything of Carker but his teeth: yet from these teeth issued a hissing sound of “now.”

Could it be? It could! It was! Four policemen sprung from under the table and held four staffs up to Mr. Dombey’s nose!

“Now,” said the Teeth, “remove that man.”

Dombey stood like a statue carved out of Parian marble, but dressed in a hat, coat, pantaloons, wellingtons, and other minor articles of costume. He waved his hand and the constables fell back.

“Remove me――remove Dombey from the counting house of Dombey and Son?”

These were the only words he spoke; then his tongue clave unto the roof or ceiling of his mouth.

The Teeth spoke not――but they held up a board, a white painted board, such as may be seen at the doors of merchants’ offices. All started. For on the board was painted:――

CARKER. LATE DOMBEY AND SON.

“Mine”――hissed the Teeth――“mine――all is mine Dombey! Dombey! you have fallen! Dombey――you’re a beggar! Dombey――here’s a penny for you! Dombey――move on!”

A pause. Dombey as motionless as the figure-head of a stranded ship.

“You left me to manage your business――you did.――I managed it――ha! ha! ha!――till I made it mine! mine! ha! ha! Take the penny, Dombey! take it, that’s a good man, and go! go! go!”

“No!”

“No”――was it an echo? More actors on the scene? Aye. More! more!

The old woman――the old woman and the handsome daughter!――Edith’s counterpart――Edith in rags――Edith an outcast――Edith――Edith―― Still――Still, Edith.

Oh! how the Teeth chattered――the Teeth――they did――as the lightening of that outcast’s eye flashed――and the cataract of that outcast’s hair streamed, and the trumpet of that outcast’s voice rang and re-echoed in God’s sunshine!

“Forger――Felon――Murderer! Ha! ha! ha! The hour is come――it is!”

And the old crone screamed in chorus “Felon!――it is!”

And where was Carker?

On the floor in a strong fit. Smitten――smitten――in his pride and his power. Smitten by the voice of the woman he had ruined――the woman he had tried to hang.――Now it was her turn! It was!

The policemen were gentle and not rough. They lifted the fallen man and took him away. Perch saw handcuffs on the manager’s wrists.

Then the counting house was locked up and seals put upon the doors. A great crowd stood long opposite to it. In the midst, Mr. Perch found Dombey with Carker’s penny still in his hand, and so led him away gently and gave him shelter at Ball’s-pond.