his little strength would soon have been unequal to such strains； he
never failed to recall her words； and to reproach himself and calm
himself。 The only utterance with which he indulged his sorrow； was the
frequent exclamation that his brother was gone； alone； that they had
been together in the outset of their lives； that they had fallen into
misfortune together； that they had kept together through their many
years of poverty； that they had remained together to that day； and that
his brother was gone alone； alone！
They parted； heavy and sorrowful。 She would not consent to leave him
anywhere but in his own room； and she saw him lie down in his clothes
upon his bed； and covered him with her own hands。 Then she sank upon her
own bed； and fell into a deep sleep： the sleep of exhaustion and
rest； though not of plete release from a pervading consciousness of
affliction。 Sleep； good Little Dorrit。 Sleep through the night！
It was a moonlight night； but the moon rose late； being long past the
full。 When it was high in the peaceful firmament； it shone through
half…closed lattice blinds into the solemn room where the stumblings and
wanderings of a life had so lately ended。 Two quiet figures were within
the room； tpassive； equally removed
by an untraversable distance from the teeming earth and all that it
contains； though soon to lie in it。
One figure reposed upon the bed。 The other； kneeling on the floor；
drooped over it； the arms easily and peacefully resting on the coverlet；
the face bowed down； so that the lips touched the hand over which with
its last breath it had bent。 The two brothers were before their Father；
far beyond the twilight judgment of this world； high above its mists and
obscurities。
CHAPTER 20。 Introduces the next
The passengers were landing from the packet on the pier at Calais。
A low…lying place and a low…spirited place Calais was； with the tide
ebbing out towards low water…mark。 There had been no more water on the
bar than had sufficed to float the packet in； and now the bar itself；
with a shallow break of sea over it； looked like a lazy marine monster
just risen to the surface； whose form was indistinctly shown as it lay
asleep。 The meagre lighthouse all in white； haunting the seaboard as if
it were the ghost of an edifice that had once had colour and rotundity；
dropped melancholy tears after its late buffeting by the waves。 The long
rows of gaunt black piles； slimy and wet and weather…worn； with funeral
garlands of seaweed twisted about them by the late tide； might
have represented an unsightly marine cemetery。 Every wave…dashed；
storm…beaten object； was so low and so little； under the broad grey sky；
in the noise of the wind and sea； and before the curling lines of surf；
making at it ferociously； that the wonder was there was any Calais left；
and that its low gates and low wall and low roofs and low ditches and
low sand…hills and low ramparts and flat streets； had not yielded
long ago to the undermining and besieging sea； like the fortifications
children make on the sea…shore。
After slipping among oozy piles and planks； stumbling up wet steps and
encountering many salt difficulties； the passengers entered on their
fortless peregrination along the pier； where all the French vagabonds
and English outlaws in the town （half the population） attended to
prevent their recovery from bewilderment。 After being minutely inspected
by all the English； and claimed and reclaimed and counter…claimed as
prizes by all the French in a hand…to…hand scuffle three quarters of a
mile long； they were at last free to enter the streets； and to make off
in their various directions； hotly pursued。
Clennam； harassed by more anxieties than one； was among this devoted
band。 Having rescued the most defenceless of his patriots from
situations of great extremity； he now went his way alone； or as nearly
alone as he could be； with a native gentleman in a suit of grease and
a cap of the same material； giving chase at a distance of some fifty
yards； and continually calling after him； 'Hi！ Ice…say！ You！ Seer！
Ice…say！ Nice Oatel！'
Even this hospitable person； however； was left behind at last； and
Clennam pursued his way； unmolested。 There was a tranquil air in the
town after the turbulence of the Channel and the beach； and its dulness
in that parison was agreeable。 He met new groups of his countrymen；
who had all a straggling air of having at one time overblown themselves；
like certain unfortable kinds of flowers； and of being now mere
weeds。 They had all an air； too； of lounging out a limited round； day
after day； which strongly reminded him of the Marshalsea。 But； taking
no further note of them than was sufficient to give birth to the
reflection； he sought out a certain street and number which he kept in
his mind。
'So Pancks said；' he murmured to himself； as he stopped before a dull
house answering to the address。 'I suppose his information to be correct
and his discovery； among Mr Casby's loose papers； indisputable； but；
without it； I should hardly have supposed this to be a likely place。'
A dead sort of house； with a dead wall over the way and a dead gateway
at the side； where a pendant bell…handle produced two dead tinkles； and
a knocker produced a dead； flat； surface…tapping； that seemed not to
have depth enough in it to perate even the cracked door。 However； the
door jarred open on a dead sort of spring； and he closed it behind him
as he entered a dull yard； soon brought to a close by another dead wall；
where an attempt had been made to train some creeping shrubs； which were
dead； and to make a little fountain in a grotto； which was dry； and to
decorate that with a little statue； which was gone。
The entry to the house was on the left； and it was garnished as the
outer gateway was； with two printed bills in French and English；
announcing Furnished Apartments to let； with immediate possession。 A
strong cheerful peasant woman； all stocking； petticoat； white cap； and
ear…ring； stood here in a dark doorway； and said with a pleasant show of
teeth； 'Ice…say！ Seer！ Who？'
Clennam； replying in French； said the English lady； he wished to see
the English lady。 'Enter then and ascend； if you please；' returned the
peasant woman； in French likewise。 He did both； and followed her up a
dark bare staircase to a back room on the first…floor。 Hence； there was
a gloomy view of the yard that was dull； and of the shrubs that were
dead； and of the fountain that was dry； and of the pedestal of the
statue that was gone。
'Monsieur Blandois；' said Clennam。
'With pleasure； Monsieur。'
Thereupon the woman withdrew and left him to look at the room。 It was
the pattern of room always to be found in such a house。 Cool； dull； and
dark。 Waxed floor very slippery。 A room not large enough to skate in；
nor adapted to the easy pursuit of any other occupation。 Red and
white curtained windows； little straw mat； little round table with a
tumultuous assemblage of legs underneath； clumsy rush…bottomed chairs；
two great red velvet arm…chairs affording plenty of space to be
unfortable in； bureau； chimney…glass in several pieces pretending to
be in one piece； pair of gaudy vases of very artificial flowers； between
them a Greek warrior with his helmet off； sacrificing a clock to the
Genius of France。
After some pause； a door of munication with another room was opened；
and a lady entered。 She manifested great surprise on seeing Clennam； and
her glance went round the room in search of some one else。
'Pardon me； Miss Wade。 I am alone。'
'It was not your name that was brought to me。'
'No； I know that。 Excuse me。 I have already had experience that my name
does not predispose you to an interview； and I ventured to mention the
name of one I am in search of。'
'Pray；' she returned； motioning him to a chair so coldly that he
remained standing； 'what name was it that you gave？'
'I mentioned the name of Blandois。'
'Blandois？'
'A name you are acquainted with。'
'It is strange；' she said； frowning； 'that you should still press an
undesired interest in me and my acquaintances； in me and my affairs； Mr
Clennam。 I don't know what you mean。'
'Pardon me。 You know the name？'
'What can you have to do with the name？ What can I have to do with the
name？ What can you have to do with my knowing or not knowing any name？
I know many names and I have forgotten many more。 This may be in the
one class； or it may be in the other； or I may never have heard it。 I am
acquainted with no reason for examining myself； or for being examined；
about it。'
'If you will allow me；' said Clennam； 'I will tell you my reason for
pressing the subject。 I admit that I do press it； and I must beg you to
forgive me if I do so； very earnestly。 The reason is all mine； I do not
insinuate that it is in any way yours。'
'Well； sir；' she returned； repeating a little less haughtily than before
her former invitation to him to be seated： to which he now deferred； as
she seated herself。 'I am at least glad to know that this is not another
bondswoman of some friend of yours； who is bereft of free choice； and
whom I have spirited away。 I will hear your reason； if you please。'
'First； to identify the person of whom we speak；' said Clennam； 'let me
observe that it is the person you met in London some time back。 You will
remember meeting him near the river……in the Adelphi！'
'You mix yourself most unaccountably with my business；' she replied；
looking full at him with stern displeasure。 'How do you know that？'
'I entreat you not to take it ill。 By mere accident。' 'What accident？'
'Solely the accident of ing upon you in the street and seeing the
meeting。'
'Do you speak of yourself； or of some one else？'
'Of myself。 I saw it。'
'To be sure it was in the open street；' she observed； after a few
moments of less and less angry reflection。 'Fifty people might have seen
it。 It would have signified nothing if they had。'
'Nor do I make my having seen it of any moment； nor （otherwise than as
an explanation of my ing here） do I connect my visit with it or the
favour that I have to ask。'
'Oh！ You have to ask a favour！ It occurred to me；' and the handsome