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postilion and post horses。 Mr Bucket handed me in； and took his
own seat on the box。 The man in uniform whom he had sent to
fetch this equipage； then handed him up a dark lantern at his
request； and when he had given a few directions to the driver； we
rattled away。
I was far from sure that I was not in a dream。 We rattled with
great rapidity through such a labyrinth of streets； that I soon lost
all idea where we were； except that we had crossed and recrossed
the river； and still seemed to be traversing a low…lying； water…side；
dense neighbourhood of narrow thoroughfares； chequered by
docks and basins； high piles of warehouses； swing…bridges； and
masts of ships。 At length we stopped at the corner of a little slimy
turning； which the wind from the river； rushing up it； did not
purify； and I saw my companion； by the light of his lantern； in
conference with several men； who looked like a mixture of police
and sailors。 Against the mouldering wall by which they stood；
there was a bill； on which I could discern the words； “FOUND
DROWNED；” and this； and an inscription about Drags； possessed
me with the awful suspicion shadowed forth in our visit to that
place。
I had no need to remind myself that I was not there； by the
indulgence of any feeling of mine； to increase the difficulties of the
search； or to lessen its hopes； or enhance its delays。 I remained
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quiet； but what I suffered in that dreadful spot I never can forget。
And still it was like the horror of a dream。 A man yet dark and
muddy； in long swollen sodden boots and a hat like them； was
called out of a boat； and whispered with Mr Bucket； who went
away with him down some slippery steps—as if to look at
something secret that he had to show。 They came back； wiping
their hands upon their coats； after turning over something wet；
but thank God it was not what I feared！
After some further conference； Mr Bucket （whom everybody
seemed to know and defer to） went in with the others at a door；
and left me in the carriage； while the driver walked up and down
by his horses； to warm himself。 The tide was coming in； as I judged
from the sound it made； and I could hear it break at the end of the
alley； with a little rush towards me。 It never did so—and I thought
it did so； hundreds of times； in what can have been at the most a
quarter of an hour； and probably was less—but the thought
shuddered through me that it would cast my mother at the horses’
feet。
Mr Bucket came out again； exhorting the others to be vigilant；
darkened his lantern； and once more took his seat。 “Don’t you be
alarmed； Miss Summerson； on account of our coming down here；”
he said； turning to me。 “I only want to have everything in train；
and to know that it is in train by looking after it myself。 Get on； my
lad！”
We appeared to retrace the way we had come。 Not that I had
taken note of any particular objects in my perturbed state of mind；
but judging from the general character of the streets。 We called at
another office or station for a minute； and crossed the river again。
During the whole of this time； and during the whole search； my
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Bleak House 1060
companion； wrapped up on the box； never relaxed in his vigilance
a single moment； but； when we crossed the bridge he seemed； if
possible； to be more on the alert than before。 He stood up to look
over the parapet； he alighted； and went back after a shadowy
female figure that flitted past us； and he gazed into the profound
black pit of water； with a face that made my heart die within me。
The river had a fearful look； so overcast and secret； creeping away
so fast between the low flat lines of shore： so heavy with indistinct
and awful shapes； both of substance and shadow： so deathlike and
mysterious。 I have seen it many times since then； by sunlight and
by moonlight； but never free from the impressions of that journey。
In my memory； the lights upon the bridge are always burning dim；
the cutting wind is eddying round the homeless woman whom we
pass； the monotonous wheels are whirling on； and the light of the
carriage lamps reflected back； looks palely in upon me—a face；
rising out of the dreaded water。
Clattering and clattering through the empty streets； we came at
length from the pavement on to dark smooth roads； and began to
leave the houses behind us。 After a while； I recognised the familiar
way to Saint Albans。 At Barnet； fresh horses were ready for us；
and we changed and went on。 It was very cold indeed； and the
open country was white with snow； though none was falling then。
“An old acquaintance of yours； this road； Miss Summerson；”
said Mr Bucket； cheerfully。
“Yes；” I returned。 “Have you gathered any intelligence？”
“None that can be quite depended on as yet；” he answered；
“but it’s early times as yet。”
He had gone into every late or early public…house where there
was a light （there were not a few at that time； the road being then
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Bleak House 1061
much frequented by drovers）； and had got down to talk to the
turnpike keepers。 I had heard him ordering drink； and chinking
money； and making himself agreeable and merry everywhere； but
whenever he took his seat upon the box again； his face resumed its
watchful steady look； and he always said to the driver in the same
business tone； “Get on； my lad！”
With all these stoppages； it was between five and six o’clock and
we were yet a few miles short of Saint Albans； when he came out
of one of these houses and handed me in a cup of tea。
“Drink it； Miss Summerson； it’ll do you good。 You’re beginning
to get more yourself now； ain’t you？”
I thanked him； and said I hoped so。
“You was what you may call stunned at first；” he returned； “and
Lord！ no wonder。 Don’t speak loud； my dear。 It’s all right。 She’s on
ahead。”
I don’t know what joyful exclamation I made； or was going to
make； but he put up his finger； and I stopped myself。
“Passed through here on foot； this evening； about eight or nine。
I heard of her first at the archway toll； over at Highgate； but
couldn’t make quite sure。 Traced her all along； on and off。 Picked
her up at one place； and dropped her at another； but she’s before
us now； safe。 Take hold of this cup and saucer； Ostler。 Now； if you
wasn’t brought up to the butter trade； look out and see if you can
catch half…a…crown in your t’other hand。 One； two； three； and there
you are！ Now； my lad； try a gallop！”
We were soon in Saint Albans； and alighted a little before day；
when I was just beginning to arrange