The Lawyer's Chair

Mr. Jaggers duly sent Mr. Headstone notice of his address, which was in Little Britain, and invited the schoolmaster to call upon him at his own convenience. Being unencumbered by the demands of regular employment, Mr. Headstone determined to pay his respects at the earliest opportunity, and took a hackney-coach to a gloomy street just out of Smithfield. On enquiring at the front office, Mr. Headstone was informed by a clerk that the lawyer was presently in Court, but had left word that any gentleman answering to the name of Headstone was to wait in his room. The clerk was a rather dry man, short in stature, with a square wooden face, whose expression seemed to have been imperfectly chipped out with a dull-edged chisel. He had glittering eyes – small, keen, and black – and thin wide mottled lips. Upon satisfying himself as to the identity of the gentleman before him, this clerk opened a door and ushered Mr. Headstone into an inner chamber at the back. The room was lighted by a skylight only, and was a most dismal place. Mr. Headstone sat down at the lawyer’s desk, opposite a high-backed chair of deadly black horse-hair, with rows of brass nails in it, like a coffin. The schoolmaster did not have to wait long before the owner of that monstrous article of furniture himself appeared and took possession of it. Mr. Jaggers unlocked one of the drawers of his desk and took out some mottled papers. Having satisfied himself with regard to some legal nicety contained within these manuscripts, the lawyer locked them up again like so many convicted felons, and leaned back in his chair. Mr. Headstone, anticipating a revelation, leaned forward in his.

Being the Seventh of February

Mr. Headstone returned to the metropolis on the morning coach and went directly to his lodgings. As he had acquainted none of his friends with his decision to abandon the marsh country, he was obliged to mark the date’s noble anniversary without company, which, with the aid of a plate of freshly-buttered crumpets and a pint of gin, he did so much to his own satisfaction.

In Which a Conference is Held by Candlelight

The room in which the conference was held was feebly lighted with one candle. The strange gentleman began by sitting down at the table, drawing the candle to him, and looking over some entries in his pocket-book. He then put up the pocket book and set the candle aside, peering round it into the darkness at Mr. Headstone, who was by now in a state of great expectation. The gentleman introduced himself as a London lawyer by the name of Jaggers, and announced that he had some unusual business to transact with the schoolmaster, for which express purpose he had followed him down into that solitary part of the country. Breaking off in his discourse to examine once again several pages in his pocket-book, the London lawyer at length informed Mr. Headstone that he represented an individual (he would not say whether a man or a woman), who had expressed a most particular interest in the character of the schoolmaster, and wished to procure the services of that same character in return for a handsome emolument. The name of this person was to remain a profound secret, until the person chose to reveal it, and, furthermore, that it was the intention of the person to reveal it at first hand by word of mouth. This was the sole condition of the proposed agreement, and if Mr. Headstone had any objection to it, this was the time to mention it. The schoolmaster having no objection, the London lawyer made a memorandum in his pocket-book, and then enquired when Mr. Headstone could return to London.