Pip, once a poor boy living in the forge with Joe, a blacksmith, was now a London gentleman. Yet, a question—"Who made me a gentleman, Miss Harvisham or somebody else?"— was bothering him. He didn't find out the answer until one night, an unwelcome visitor came to his house.
That night, Pip was reading alone at the top of his house near the river when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Remembering that the staircase lights were blown out, the gentleman took up his reading-lamp and went out to the stair-head.
"What floor do you want?"
"The top, Mr. Pip." said a voice from the darkness.
The lamp Pip held over the stairs in terror lit up a man's face. He didn't recognize it, but the expression on it showed that the owner was pleased to see Pip. The man was dressed warmly but not elegantly. He had long grey hair and his skin was brown from spending a lot of time outside. Pip guessed he was about sixty.
Taken inside, the man looked around the room and smiled at what he saw. Then he did something strange. He held both of his hands out to Pip. Thinking he might be mad, Pip stepped back, which made the man confused, pushing his hands through his hair.
The man sat down in a chair near the fire. Suddenly Pip knew who he was! The hungry convict in the marshes! The then-convict now looked at Pip with great affection, but Pip could feel none for him.
"You acted nobly to help me, a prison-breaker with an iron ring on a leg sixteen years ago, Pip," the convict continued, "I have never forgot it!"
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The scene of helping him jumped before Pip's eyes. "A gentleman? How have you done so well?" asked the convict. |