"Certain, my good Sir! My eyes and ears are witnesses. I wouldn't have believed it otherwise. I wouldn't have believed it, Mr. Chuzzlewit, if a Fiery Serpent had proclaimed it from the top of Salisbury Cathedral. I would have said," cried Mr. Pecksniff, "that the Serpent lied. Such was my faith in Thomas Pinch, that I would have cast the falsehood back into the Serpent's teeth, and would have taken Thomas to my heart. But I am not a Serpent, Sir, myself, I grieve to say, and no excuse or hope is left me."
Martin was greatly disturbed to see him so much agitated, and to hear such unexpected news. He begged him to compose himself, and asked upon what subject Mr. Pinch's treachery had been developed.
"That is almost the worst of all, Sir," Mr. Pecksniff answered. "On a subject nearly concerning you. Oh! is it not enough," said Mr. Pecksniff, looking upward, "that these blows must fall on me, but must they also hit my friends!"
"You alarm me," cried the old man, changing colour. "I am not so strong as I was. You terrify me, Pecksniff!"
"Cheer up, my noble Sir," said Mr. Pecksniff, taking courage, "and we will do what is required of us. You shall know all, Sir, and shall be righted. But first excuse me, Sir, ex—cuse me. I have a duty to discharge, which I owe to society."
He rang the bell, and Jane appeared.
"Send Mr. Pinch here, if you please, Jane!"
Tom came. Constrained and altered in his manner, downcast and dejected, visibly confused not liking to look Pecksniff in the face.
The honest man bestowed a glance on Mr. Chuzzlewit, as who should say "You see!" and addressed himself to Tom in these terms:
"Mr. Pinch, I have left the vestry-window unfastened. Will you do me the favour to go and secure it; then bring the keys of the sacred edifice to me!"
"The vestry-window, Sir!" cried Tom.
"You understand me Mr. Pinch, I think" returned his patron. "Yes Mr. Pinch, the vestry-window. I grieve to say that sleeping in the church after a fatiguing ramble, I overheard just now some fragments" he emphasised that word "of a dialogue between two parties; and one of them locking the church when he went out, I was obliged to leave it myself by the vestry-window. Do me the favour to secure that vestry-window, Mr. Pinch, and then come back to me."
No physiognomist that ever dwelt on earth could have construed Tom's face when he heard these words. Wonder was in it, and a mild look of reproach, but certainly no fear or guilt, although a host of strong emotions struggled to display themselves. He bowed, and without saying one word, good or bad, withdrew.
"Pecksniff," cried Martin, in a tremble, "what does all this mean? You are not going to do anything in haste, you may regret!"
"No, my good Sir," said Mr. Pecksniff, firmly, "No. But I have a duty to discharge which I owe to society; and it shall be discharged, my friend, at any cost!"
Oh late-remembered, much-forgotten, mouthing, braggart duty, always
