Little Dorrit - Page 374/462

In the yard, were the Collegians and turnkeys. In the yard, were Mr

Pancks and Mr Rugg, come to see the last touch given to their work.

In the yard, was Young John making a new epitaph for himself, on

the occasion of his dying of a broken heart. In the yard, was the

Patriarchal Casby, looking so tremendously benevolent that many

enthusiastic Collegians grasped him fervently by the hand, and the wives

and female relatives of many more Collegians kissed his hand, nothing

doubting that he had done it all.

In the yard, was the man with the

shadowy grievance respecting the Fund which the Marshal embezzled, who

had got up at five in the morning to complete the copying of a perfectly

unintelligible history of that transaction, which he had committed to Mr

Dorrit's care, as a document of the last importance, calculated to stun

the Government and effect the Marshal's downfall. In the yard, was the

insolvent whose utmost energies were always set on getting into debt,

who broke into prison with as much pains as other men have broken out

of it, and who was always being cleared and complimented; while the

insolvent at his elbow--a mere little, snivelling, striving tradesman,

half dead of anxious efforts to keep out of debt--found it a hard

matter, indeed, to get a Commissioner to release him with much reproof

and reproach.

In the yard, was the man of many children and many

burdens, whose failure astonished everybody; in the yard, was the man of

no children and large resources, whose failure astonished nobody. There,

were the people who were always going out to-morrow, and always putting

it off; there, were the people who had come in yesterday, and who

were much more jealous and resentful of this freak of fortune than

the seasoned birds.

There, were some who, in pure meanness of spirit,

cringed and bowed before the enriched Collegian and his family; there,

were others who did so really because their eyes, accustomed to the

gloom of their imprisonment and poverty, could not support the light of

such bright sunshine. There, were many whose shillings had gone into his

pocket to buy him meat and drink; but none who were now obtrusively Hail

fellow well met! with him, on the strength of that assistance. It was

rather to be remarked of the caged birds, that they were a little shy

of the bird about to be so grandly free, and that they had a tendency to

withdraw themselves towards the bars, and seem a little fluttered as he

passed.

Through these spectators the little procession, headed by the two

brothers, moved slowly to the gate. Mr Dorrit, yielding to the vast

speculation how the poor creatures were to get on without him, was

great, and sad, but not absorbed. He patted children on the head

like Sir Roger de Coverley going to church, he spoke to people in the

background by their Christian names, he condescended to all present, and

seemed for their consolation to walk encircled by the legend in golden

characters, 'Be comforted, my people! Bear it!'