That evening I asked Herbert what he did for a living, and he replied, "I'm an insurer of ships." I had grand ideas of the wealth and importance of such people, so I couldn't believe that I'd fought with this pale young gentleman and defeated him.
"I will not be satisfied merely with insuring ships," Herbert explained, leaning back in his chair. "I'll trade in the East Indies for silks, shawls, spices, and precious woods. That's an interesting trade."
"And are the profits large?"
"Tremendous. I'll also trade in the West Indies for sugar, tobacco, and rum."
"You'll want many ships," I said.
"An entire fleet."
Quite impressed by the magnificence of his business, I asked him where the ships he insured now were trading.
"Oh, I haven't begun insuring ships yet," he replied. "I work in a counting house."
So all of Herbert's profits from the shipping business were somewhere in the future, I realized. Looking around his rooms, I saw that he owned nothing but the simplest necessities. Yet he was cheerful and optimistic.
We went out for a walk and then to the theater. The next day we went to church at Westminster Abbey, and in the afternoon we walked in the parks. I wondered who the blacksmith was for all the horses there, and I wished it were Joe. It seemed many months since I had left Joe and Biddy, though it had only been a day.
On Monday I went with Herbert to his counting house for a few hours. Then we took a coach out to Hammersmith to meet his father, who would be my tutor. Mr. Matthew Pocket took me into the house and showed me my room, which was a pleasant one. Then he knocked on the doors of two other rooms and introduced me to two more of his students, Bentley Drummle and Startop.
After two or three days, when I had established myself in my room and gone back and forth to London several times, Mr. Pocket and I had a long talk together. It occurred to me that I might be happier if I could stay in London with Herbert. Mr. Pocket did not object but urged me to get Mr. Jaggers' approval for this arrangement, which I did.
"If I could buy some furniture," I said to Mr. Jaggers, "and one or two other things, I should be quite at home there."
He approved the arrangement and sent me to see his clerk, John Wemmick, for twenty pounds from my account.
"Have you dined with Mr. Jaggers yet?" asked Wemmick as he counted out the money.
"Not yet."
"I'll tell you something. When you dine with him, look at his housekeeper."
"Will I see something unusual?"
"You'll see a wild beast tamed. Keep your eye on her."
I told him I would do so, and now I was very curious to dine with Mr. Jaggers.
In the meantime I rowed every evening on the river with Drummle and Startop, each of us in our own boat. Drummle was idle, haughty, and suspicious. So it was natural that I preferred Startop. Even in our earliest outings, Startop and I would row near each other, conversing from boat to boat. Drummle rowed along behind us.
But Herbert was my closest friend. I let him use my boat, which meant he often came down to Hammersmith. And my sharing of his chambers often took me up to London. We walked between the two places at all hours.
I soon acquired expensive habits, and within a few short months, I began to spend a fabulous amount of money. But still I stuck to my books and applied myself to my education.
At last Mr. Jaggers invited me to dine. He also included Herbert, Drummle, and Startop. When we arrived at his house, Mr. Jaggers put his large hand on my shoulder and moved me away from the others. "Pip, I don't know these people. Who's the spider?"
"The spider?"
"The blotchy, sulky fellow."
"That's Bentley Drummle."
"I like the look of him," said Mr. Jaggers, and he immediately went over to talk to Drummle.
The first floor of the house consisted of a series of gloomy dark-brown rooms. We took our dinner in the best of these rooms. When we sat down at the table, the housekeeper began to serve the fish. She was a woman of about forty, I suppose. She was rather tall and extremely pale, with large eyes. Remembering Wemmick's remark about her, I watched her carefully.
Dinner went well, and when we reached the cheese course, our conversation turned to our rowing feats. Drummle was teased for always coming up behind us in that slow way of his. Drummle then said he was more than our master when it came to rowing. Mr. Jaggers encouraged this talk, and Drummle soon bared his arm to show how muscular it was. And then we all bared our arms and showed off our muscles in a ridiculous manner.
The housekeeper was at that moment clearing the table. Mr. Jaggers clapped his large hand like a trap over her hand as she stretched it across the table. He did this so suddenly that we all stopped our foolish competition.
"I'll show you strength," he said. "Molly, let them see your wrist."
Her trapped hand was on the table, but she had already put her other hand behind her back. "Master, don't," she said in a low voice with her eyes fixed upon him.
"Molly, let them see both your wrists," said Mr. Jaggers, not looking at her. "Show them. Come!"
He took his hand from hers and turned her wrist up on the table. She brought her other hand from behind her back. That wrist was very disfigured with deep scars running across it. When she held her hands out, she took her eyes from Mr. Jaggers and looked at each one of us in turn.
"There's power here," said Mr. Jaggers, coolly tracing the sinews with his finger. "It's remarkable what a forceful grip is in these hands. I've had occasion to notice many hands, but I've never seen any stronger—man's or woman's—than these."
She continued to look at all of us until he said, "That'll do, Molly. You can go."
After that we ate too much and talked too much. Drummle argued with all of us. Startop tried to end one argument with some small pleasantry that made us all laugh. Resenting this, Drummle without any warning picked up a large glass and would have flung it at Startop's head if Mr. Jaggers had not seized it.
"Gentlemen," said Mr. Jaggers, deliberately putting down the glass. "I am exceedingly sorry to announce that it is time for you to go."
As we took our leave, I apologized to Mr. Jaggers for the arguments, and he told me again how much he liked Drummle.
"I'm glad you like him, sir, but I don't."
"Then don't have much to do with him, Pip. Avoid him as often as you can."
A month later Drummle left Mr. Pocket's, and I felt great relief.