I felt Peggotty’s arm round my neck, but I could not have moved if the house had been about to fall upon me.

“A strange chay and hosses was outside town, this morning, on the Norwich road, a’most afore the day broke,” Ham went on. “The servant went to it, and come from it, and went to it again. When he went to it again, Em’ly was nigh him. The t’other was inside. He’s the man.”

“For the Lord’s love,” said Mr. Peggotty, falling back, and putting out his hand, as if to keep off what he dreaded. “Doen’t tell me his name’s Steerforth!”

“Mas’r Davy,” exclaimed Ham, in a broken voice, “it ain’t no fault of yourn⁠—and I am far from laying of it to you⁠—but his name is Steerforth, and he’s a damned villain!”

Mr. Peggotty uttered no cry, and shed no tear, and moved no more, until he seemed to wake again, all at once, and pulled down his rough coat from its peg in a corner.