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was a severe one； because Truth wielded the weapon。 If I smiled
now； it； was only in disdain of myself。
Hunsden saw his advantage； he followed it up。
“You’ll make nothing by trade；” continued he； “nothing more
than the crust of dry bread and the draught of fair water on which
you now live； your only chance of getting a competency lies in
marrying a rich widow； or running away with an heiress。”
“I leave such shifts to be put in practice by those who devise
them；” said I； rising。
“And even that is hopeless；” he went on coolly。 “What widow
would have you？ Much less； what heiress？ You’re not bold and
venturesome enough for the one； nor handsome and fascinating
enough for the other。 You think perhaps you look intelligent and
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The Professor 46
polished； carry your intellect and refinement to market； and tell
me in a private note what price is bid for them。”
Mr。 Hunsden had taken his tone for the night； the string he
struck was out of tune； he would finger no other。 Averse to
discord； of which I had enough every day and all day long； I
concluded； at last； that silence and solitude were preferable to
jarring converse； I bade him good…night。
“What！ Are you going； lad？ Well； good…night： you’ll find the
door。” And he sat still in front of the fire； while I left the room and
the house。 I had got a good way on my return to my lodgings
before I found out that I was walking very fast； and breathing very
hard； and that my nails were almost stuck into the palms of my
clenched hands； and that my teeth were set fast； on making this
discovery； I relaxed both my pace； fists； and jaws； but I could not
so soon cause the regrets rushing rapidly through my mind to
slacken their tide。 Why did I make myself a tradesman？ Why did I
enter Hunsden’s house this evening？ Why； at dawn to…morrow；
must I repair to Crimsworth’s mill？ All that night did I ask myself
these questions； and all that night fiercely demanded of my soul an
answer。 I got no sleep； my head burned； my feet froze； at last the
factory bells rang； and I sprang from my bed with other slaves。
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The Professor 47
Chapter V
here is a climax to everything； to every state of feeling as
well as to every position in life。 I turned this truism over in
T
my mind as； in the frosty dawn of a January morning； I
hurried down the steep and now icy street which descended from
Mrs。 King’s to the Close。 The factory workpeople had preceded me
by nearly an hour； and the mill was all lighted up and in full
operation when I reached it。 I repaired to my post in the counting…
house as usual； the fire there； but just lit； as yet only smoked；
Steighton had not yet arrived。 I shut the door and sat down at the
desk； my hands； recently washed in half…frozen water； were still
numb； I could not write till they had regained vitality； so I went on
thinking； and still the theme of my thoughts was the “climax。”
Self…dissatisfaction troubled exceedingly the current of my
meditations。
“Come； William Crimsworth；” said my conscience； or whatever
it is that within ourselves takes ourselves to task—“come； get a
clear notion of what you would have； or what you would not have。
You talk of a climax； pray has your endurance reached its climax？
It is not four months old。 What a fine resolute fellow you imagined
yourself to be when you told Tynedale you would tread in your
father’s steps； and a pretty treading you are likely to make of it！
How well you like X—！ Just at this moment how redolent of
pleasant associations are its streets； its shops； its warehouses； its
factories！ How the prospect of this day cheers you！ Letter…copying
till noon； solitary dinner at your lodgings； letter…copying till
evening； solitude； for you neither find pleasure in Brown’s； nor
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The Professor 48
Smith’s； nor Nicholl’s； nor Eccles’ company； and as to Hunsden；
you fancied there was pleasure to be derived from his society—he！
he！ how did you like the taste you had of him last night？ was it
sweet？ Yet he is a talented； an original…minded man； and even he
does not like you； your self…respect defies you to like him； he has
always seen you to disadvantage； he always will see you to
disadvantage； your positions are unequal； and were they on the
same level your minds could not； assimilate； never hope； then； to
gather the honey of friendship out of that thorn…guarded plant。
Hello； Crimsworth！ where are your thoughts tending？ You leave
the recollection of Hunsden as a bee would a rock； as a bird a
desert； and your aspirations spread eager wings towards a land of
visions where； now in advancing daylight—in X— daylight—you
dare to dream of congeniality； repose； union。 Those three you will
never meet in this world； they are angels。 The souls of just men
made perfect may encounter them in heaven； but your soul will
never be made perfect。 Eight o’clock strikes！ your hands are
thawed； get to work！”
“Work？ why should I work？” said I sullenly： “I cannot please
though I toil like a slave。” “Work； work！” reiterated the inward
voice。 “I may work； it will do no good；” I growled； but nevertheless
I drew out a packet of letters and commenced my task—task
thankless and bitter as that of the Israelite crawling over the sun…
baked fields of Egypt in search of straw and stubble wherewith to
accomplish his tale of bricks。
About ten o’clock I heard Mr。 Crimsworth’s gig turn into the
yard； and in a minute or two he entered the counting…house。 It was
his custom to glance his eye at Steighton and myself； to hang up
his mackintosh； stand a minute with his back to the fire； and then
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The Professor 49
walk out。 Today he did not deviate from his usual habits； the only
difference was that when he looked at me； his brow； instead of
being merely hard； was surly； his eye； instead of being cold； was
fierce。 He studied me a minute or two longer than usual； but went
out in silence。
Twelve o’clock arrived； the bell rang for a suspension of labour；
the workpeople went off to their dinners； Steighton； too； departed；
desiring me to lock the counting…house door； and take the key with
me。 I was tying up a bundle of papers； and putting them in their
place； preparatory to closing my desk； when Crimsworth
reappeared at the door； and entering closed it behind him。
“You’ll stay here a minute；” said he； in a deep； brutal voice；
while his nostrils distended and his eye shot a spark of sinister
fire。
Alone with Edward I remembered our relationship； and
remembering that forgot the difference of position； I put away
deference and careful forms of speech； I answered with simple
brevity。
“It is time to go home；” I said； turning the key in my desk。
“You’ll stay here！” he reiterated。 “And take your hand off that
key！ leave it in the lock！”
“Why？” asked I。 “What cause is there for changing my usual
plans？”