than you do. One morning at daybreak, he went over the side," said the Captain, "without a splash, without a ripple I have looked for that man high and low, and never set eyes, nor ears, nor nothing else, upon him from that hour."
"But, good Gracious, Miss Dombey don’t know—" Mr. Toots began.
"Why, I ask you, as a feeling heart," said the Captain, dropping his voice, "why should she know? why should she be made to know, until such time as there warn’t any help for it? She took to old Sol Gills, did that sweet creetur, with a kindness, with a affability, with a—what’s the good of saying so? you know her."
"I should hope so," chuckled Mr. Toots, with a conscious blush that suffused his whole countenance.
"And you come here from her?" said the Captain.
"I should think so," chuckled Mr. Toots.
"Then all I need observe, is," said the Captain, "that you know a angel, and are chartered by a angel."
Mr. Toots instantly seized the Captain’s hand, and requested the favour of his friendship.
"Upon my word and honour," said Mr. Toots, earnestly, "I should be very much obliged to you if you’d improve my acquaintance. I should like to know you, Captain, very much. I really am in want of a friend, I am. Little Dombey was my friend at old Blimber’s, and would have been now, if he’d have lived. The Chicken," said Mr. Toots, in a forlorn whisper, "is very well—admirable in his way—the sharpest man perhaps in the world; there’s not a move he isn’t up to, everybody says so—but I don’t know—he’s not everything. So she is an angel, Captain. If there is an angel anywhere, it’s Miss Dombey. That’s what I’ve always said. Really though, you know," said Mr. Toots, "I should be very much obliged to you if you’d cultivate my acquaintance."
Captain Cuttle received this proposal in a polite manner, but still without committing himself to its acceptance; merely observing, "Aye aye, my lad. We shall see, we shall see;" and reminding Mr. Toots of his immediate mission, by inquiring to what he was indebted for the honour of that visit.
"Why the fact is," replied Mr. Toots, "that it’s the young woman I come from. Not Miss Dombey—Susan, you know."
The Captain nodded his head once, with a grave expression of face indicative of his regarding that young woman with serious respect.
"And I ’ll tell you how it happens," said Mr. Toots. "You know, I go and call sometimes, on Miss Dombey. I don’t go there on purpose, you know, but I happen to be in the neighbourhood very often; and when I find myself there, why—why I call."
"Nat’rally," observed the Captain.
"Yes," said Mr. Toots. "I called this afternoon. Upon my word and honour, I don’t think it’s possible to form an idea of the angel Miss Dombey was this afternoon."
The Captain answered with a jerk of his head, implying that it might not be easy to some people, but was quite so to him.
"As I was coming out," said Mr. Toots, "the young woman, in the most unexpected manner, took me into the pantry."
