telling it. If he had brought it about,--I almost feel as if he had,--I couldn't hate him more. Let me but retaliate upon him, by degrees, however slow--let me but begin to get the better of him, let me but turn the scale--and I can bear it.'

His meditations were long and deep. They terminated in his dispatching a letter by Newman, addressed to Mr Squeers at the Saracen's Head, with instructions to inquire whether he had arrived in town, and, if so, to wait an answer. Newman brought back the information that Mr Squeers had come by mail that morning, and had received the letter in bed; but that he sent his duty, and word that he would get up and wait upon Mr Nickleby directly.

The interval between the delivery of this message, and the arrival of Mr Squeers, was very short; but, before he came, Ralph had suppressed every sign of emotion, and once more regained the hard, immovable, inflexible manner which was habitual to him, and to which, perhaps, was ascribable no small part of the influence which, over many men of no very strong prejudices on the score of morality, he could exert, almost at will.

`Well, Mr Squeers,' he said, welcoming that worthy with his accustomed smile, of which a sharp look and a thoughtful frown were part and parcel,--`how do you do?'

`Why, sir,' said Mr Squeers, `I'm pretty well. So's the family, and so's the boys, except for a sort of rash as is a running through the school, and rather puts 'em off their feed. But it's a ill wind as blows no good to nobody; that's what I always say when them lads has a wisitation. A wisitation, sir, is the lot of mortality. Mortality itself, sir, is a wisitation. The world is chock full of wisitations; and if a boy repines at a wisitation and makes you uncomfortable with his noise, he must have his head punched. That's going according to the Scripter, that is.'

`Mr Squeers,' said Ralph, drily.

`Sir.'

`We'll avoid these precious morsels of morality if you please, and talk of business.'

`With all my heart, sir,' rejoined Squeers, `and first let me say--'

`First let me say, if you please--Noggs!'

Newman presented himself when the summons had been twice or thrice repeated, and asked if his master called.

`I did. Go to your dinner. And go at once. Do you hear?'

`It an't time,' said Newman, doggedly.

`My time is yours, and I say it is,' returned Ralph.

`You alter it every day,' said Newman. `It isn't fair.'

`You don't keep many cooks, and can easily apologise to them for the trouble,' retorted Ralph. `Begone, sir!'

Ralph not only issued this order in his most peremptory manner, but, under pretence of fetching some papers from the little office, saw it obeyed, and, when Newman had left the house, chained the door, to prevent the possibility of his returning secretly, by means of his latch-key.