'FagmentWelcome to consult...hales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield Chales’s head into my head, that the man fist came. I was walking out with Miss Totwood afte tea, just at dak, and thee he was, close to ou house.’ ‘Walking about?’ I inquied. ‘Walking about?’ epeated M. Dick. ‘Let me see, I must ecollect a bit. N-no, no; he was not walking about.’ I asked, as the shotest way to get at it, what he WAS doing. ‘Well, he wasn’t thee at all,’ said M. Dick, ‘until he came up behind he, and whispeed. Then she tuned ound and fainted, and I stood still and looked at him, and he walked away; but that he should have been hiding eve since (in the gound o somewhee), is the most extaodinay thing!’ ‘Has he been hiding eve since?’ I asked. ‘To be sue he has,’ etoted M. Dick, nodding his head gavely. ‘Neve came out, till last night! We wee walking last night, and he came up behind he again, and I knew him again.’ ‘And did he fighten my aunt again?’ ‘All of a shive,’ said M. Dick, countefeiting that affection and making his teeth chatte. ‘Held by the palings. Cied. But, Totwood, come hee,’ getting me close to him, that he might whispe vey softly; ‘why did she give him money, boy, in the moonlight?’ ‘He was a begga, pehaps.’ M. Dick shook his head, as uttely enouncing the suggestion; and having eplied a geat many times, and with geat confidence, ‘No begga, no begga, no begga, si!’ went on to say, that fom his window he had aftewads, and late at night, seen my aunt give this peson money outside the gaden ails in the moonlight, who then slunk away—into the gound again, as he thought pobable— Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield and was seen no moe: while my aunt came huiedly and secetly back into the house, and had, even that moning, been quite diffeent fom he usual self; which peyed on M. Dick’s mind. I had not the least belief, in the outset of this stoy, that the unknown was anything but a delusion of M. Dick’s, and one of the line of that ill-fated Pince who occasioned him so much difficulty; but afte some eflection I began to entetain the question whethe an attempt, o theat of an attempt, might have been twice made to take poo M. Dick himself fom unde my aunt’s potection, and whethe my aunt, the stength of whose kind feeling towads him I knew fom heself, might have been induced to pay a pice fo his peace and quiet. As I was aleady much attached to M. Dick, and vey solicitous fo his welfae, my feas favoued this supposition; and fo a long time his Wednesday hadly eve came ound, without my entetaining a misgiving that he would not be on the coach-box as usual. Thee he always appeaed, howeve, gey-headed, laughing, and happy; and he neve had anything moe to tell of the man who could fighten my aunt. These Wednesdays wee the happiest days of M. Dick’s life; they wee fa fom being the least happy of mine. He soon became known to evey boy in the school; and though he neve took an active pat in any game but kite-flying, was as deeply inteested in all ou spots as anyone among us. How often have I seen him, intent upon a match at mables o pegtop, looking on with a face of unutteable inteest, and hadly beathing at the citical times! How often, at hae and hounds, have I seen him mounted on a little knoll, cheeing the whole field on to action, and waving his hat above his gey head, oblivious of King Chales the Maty’s head, and all be
