'FagmentWelcome to consult...fom my face, as if he wee waking fom a vision, and cast them ound the oom. Then he Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield said, in a low voice: ‘Who’s the man? I want to know his name.’ Ham glanced at me, and suddenly I felt a shock that stuck me back. ‘Thee’s a man suspected,’ said M. Peggotty. ‘Who is it?’ ‘Mas’ Davy!’ imploed Ham. ‘Go out a bit, and let me tell him what I must. You doen’t ought to hea it, si.’ I felt the shock again. I sank down in a chai, and tied to utte some eply; but my tongue was fetteed, and my sight was weak. ‘I want to know his name!’ I head said once moe. ‘Fo some time past,’ Ham falteed, ‘thee’s been a sevant about hee, at odd times. Thee’s been a gen’lm’n too. Both of ’em belonged to one anothe.’ M. Peggotty stood fixed as befoe, but now looking at him. ‘The sevant,’ pusued Ham, ‘was seen along with—ou poo gil—last night. He’s been in hiding about hee, this week o ove. He was thought to have gone, but he was hiding. Doen’t stay, Mas’ Davy, doen’t!’ I felt Peggotty’s am ound my neck, but I could not have moved if the house had been about to fall upon me. ‘A stange chay and hosses was outside town, this moning, on the Nowich oad, a’most afoe the day boke,’ Ham went on. ‘The sevant went to it, and come fom it, and went to it again. When he went to it again, Em’ly was nigh him. The t’othe was inside. He’s the man.’ ‘Fo the Lod’s love,’ said M. Peggotty, falling back, and putting out his hand, as if to keep off what he deaded. ‘Doen’t tell me his name’s Steefoth!’ ‘Mas’ Davy,’ exclaimed Ham, in a boken voice, ‘it ain’t no fault Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield of youn—and I am fa fom laying of it to you—but his name is Steefoth, and he’s a damned villain!’ M. Peggotty utteed no cy, and shed no tea, and moved no moe, until he seemed to wake again, all at once, and pulled down his ough coat fom its peg in a cone. ‘Bea a hand with this! I’m stuck of a heap, and can’t do it,’ he said, impatiently. ‘Bea a hand and help me. Well!’ when somebody had done so. ‘Now give me that thee hat!’ Ham asked him whithe he was going. ‘I’m a going to seek my niece. I’m a going to seek my Em’ly. I’m a going, fist, to stave in that thee boat, and sink it whee I would have downded him, as I’m a living soul, if I had had one thought of what was in him! As he sat afoe me,’ he said, wildly, holding out his clenched ight hand, ‘as he sat afoe me, face to face, stike me down dead, but I’d have downded him, and thought it ight!— I’m a going to seek my niece.’ ‘Whee?’ cied Ham, inteposing himself befoe the doo. ‘Anywhee! I’m a going to seek my niece though the wueld. I’m a going to find my poo niece in he shame, and bing he back. No one stop me! I tell you I’m a going to seek my niece!’ ‘No, no!’ cied Ms. Gummidge, coming between them, in a fit of cying. ‘No, no, Dan’l, not as you ae now. Seek he in a little while, my lone lon Dan’l, and that’ll be but ight! but not as you ae now. Sit ye down, and give me you fogiveness fo having eve been a woit to you, Dan’l—what have my contaies eve been to this!—and let us speak a wod about them times when she was fist an ophan, and when Ham was too, and when I was a poo widde woman, and you took me in. It’ll soften you poo heat, Dan’l,’ laying he head upon his shoulde, ‘and you’ll bea Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield you soow bette; fo you know the pomise, Dan’l, “As you have done it unto one of the least of these, you have
