Chapter 16 - Page 2

towards Twickenham, its form was so
indefinite that it was little more than the pervading atmosphere in
which these other subjects floated before him.

He had crossed the heath and was leaving it behind when he gained
upon a figure which had been in advance of him for some time, and
which, as he gained upon it, he thought he knew. He derived this
impression from something in the turn of the head, and in the
figure's action of consideration, as it went on at a sufficiently
sturdy walk. But when the man--for it was a man's figure--pushed
his hat up at the back of his head, and stopped to consider some
object before him, he knew it to be Daniel Doyce.

'How do you do, Mr Doyce?' said Clennam, overtaking him. 'I am
glad to see you again, and in a healthier place than the
Circumlocution Office.'

'Ha! Mr Meagles's friend!' exclaimed that public criminal, coming
out of some mental combinations he had been making, and offering
his hand. 'I am glad to see you, sir. Will you excuse me if I
forget your name?'

'Readily. It's not a celebrated name. It's not Barnacle.'
'No, no,' said Daniel, laughing. 'And now I know what it is. It's
Clennam. How do you do, Mr Clennam?'

'I have some hope,' said Arthur, as they walked on together, 'that
we may be going to the same place, Mr Doyce.'

'Meaning Twickenham?' returned Daniel. 'I am glad to hear it.'

They were soon quite intimate, and lightened the way with a variety
of conversation. The ingenious culprit was a man of great modesty
and good sense; and, though a plain man, had been too much
accustomed to combine what was original and daring in conception
with what was patient and minute in execution, to be by any means
an ordinary man. It was at first difficult to lead him to speak
about himself, and he put off Arthur's advances in that direction
by admitting slightly, oh yes, he had done this, and he had done
that, and such a thing was of his making, and such another thing
was his discovery, but it was his trade, you see, his trade; until,
as he gradually became assured that his companion had a real
interest in his account of himself, he frankly yielded to it. Then
it appeared that he was the son of a north-country blacksmith, and
had originally been apprenticed by his widowed mother to a lock-
maker; that he had 'struck out a few little things' at the lock-
maker's, which had led to his being released from his indentures
with a present, which present had enabled him to gratify his ardent
wish to bind himself to a working engineer, under whom he had
laboured hard, learned hard, and lived hard, seven years. His time
being out, he had 'worked in the shop' at weekly wages seven or
eight years more; and had then betaken himself to the