“There!” said Mr. Boffin. “See what men put away and forget, or mean to destroy, and don’t!” He then added in a slow tone, “As—ton—ish—ing!” And as he rolled his eyes all round the room, Wegg and Venus likewise rolled their eyes all round the room. And then Wegg, singly, fixed his eyes on Mr. Boffin looking at the fire again; as if he had a mind to spring upon him and demand his thoughts or his life.
“However, time’s up for tonight,” said Mr. Boffin, waving his hand after a silence. “More, the day after tomorrow. Range the books upon the shelves, Wegg. I dare say Mr. Venus will be so kind as help you.”
While speaking, he thrust his hand into the breast of his outer coat, and struggled with some object there that was too large to be got out easily. What was the stupefaction of the friendly movers when this object at last emerging, proved to be a much-dilapidated dark lantern!
Without at all noticing the effect produced by this little instrument, Mr. Boffin stood it on his knee, and, producing a box of matches, deliberately lighted the candle in the lantern, blew out the kindled match, and cast the end into the fire. “I’m going, Wegg,” he then announced, “to take a turn about the place and round the yard. I don’t want you. Me and this same lantern have taken hundreds—thousands—of such turns in our time together.”
“But I couldn’t think, sir—not on any account, I couldn’t,”—Wegg was politely beginning, when Mr. Boffin, who had risen and was going towards the door, stopped:
“I have told you that I don’t want you, Wegg.”
Wegg looked intelligently thoughtful, as if that had not occurred to his mind until he now brought it to bear on the circumstance. He had nothing for it but to let Mr. Boffin go out and shut the door behind him. But, the instant he was on the other side of it, Wegg clutched Venus with both hands, and said in a choking whisper, as if he were being strangled: