8 The Return of Agnes

Dora had been ill for many months. I had begun to fear that, I may never see my child-wife
running in the sunlight again with her old friend Jip. He seemed to have suddenly grown very old.
His sight was weak and his limbs were feeble. MY beautiful Dora lay smiling at us and uttered no
hasty or complaining wors. She said that we were very good to her, that I was tiring myself out
and my aunt spent sleepess nights looking after her, but was always attentive and kind.

One evening she asked me to send for Agnes. Agnes arrived. She, my aunt and I sat with
Dora the whole day and Dora was perfectly contented and cheerful They told me what perhaps I
had known and feared for so long. My Dora’s life was drawing to a close. That night, as I held her
hand in mine, she looked into my eyes and spoke very softly, “Doady my dear, I am afraid I was
too young. It would have been much better if we had only loved each other as a boy and girland
forgotten it.’’

“ Agnes?”I cold say no more. A rain of tears covered her face. I knew then that it was all over.
Death had visited the house, not once, but twice. It was all over. At the request of traddles, most
devoted and affectionate of friends in my time of grief, wew returned to Canterbury after some
days.Traddles informen us that after going through all the papers and accounts of the firm, with
Mr Micawber’s untiring help, he had been able to undo most of the wrong done by Uriah Heep. All
Mr Wickfield’s debts had been cleared and all Miss Trotwood’s money was safe. Uriah and his
mother had gone, no one knew where.

“Do you think he had any money, Traddles?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” said Traddles, “ I as sure he must have pocketed a good deal, in one way or
another. But I think you would find, Copperfield, if you haf an opportunity of observing his course,
that money would never keep that man out of mischief.’’

AS the time drew near for Mr Peggotty’s ship to sail for Australia, I decided to go to Yarmouth
once again to see Ham. I had been thinking of him, in his solitude, and my mind was somehow
uneasy. As our coach moved away from London, the sky became more and more overcast and a
strong wind like showers of steel and many times the coach was in danger of being blown over.

As we struggled on, nearer and nearer to the sea, from where this mighty wind was blowing, its
force became more and more terrific Long before we saw the sea, its spray was on our lips. When
at last we got into the town, the people camc out to theirdoors, all aslant, with streaming hair.
Wondering how we had survived such a dangerous journey.

I left my luggage at the old inn and went down to look at the sea. I found weeping women whose
husbands were away in fishing boats. Even experienced sailors, looking disturbed and anxicous,
peered at the sea through binoculars, as if they were roaring in, it looked as if the smallest of them
could engulf the entire town!
 I looked for Ham and was told that he was away from Yarmouth and would be back the following
morning. I went to bed, very weary and uneasy in my mind. I was aroused the next morning by
someone knocking at my door and calling out, “There had been a shipwreck near the shore, sir.
Come quick if you want to see it. It may go to pieces any moment!”

By the time I reached the seashore, there were only four men left alive on the wreck of the ship.
They were clinging to the rigging of the mast. Uppermost was a figure with long, curling hair. The
waves rolled over the pitiful wreck. But, as we watched, the shattered ship rose out of the sea
again. Now only two men were left on the mast. The other watchers and I begged some sailors, to
save the two men on the mast. They told us that in such a storm any rescue attempt would mean
almost certain death for the rescuers. Then I saw the people moving aside and Ham came through
the crowd to the shore.

When I realized what he was going to do. I ran to him and held him back with both arrns,
imploring him not to put his life in danger. “ Master Davy,” he said cheerily, “ if my time has came,
it’s come. If it hasn’t no one need worry God bless you and bless all! Mates, make me ready. I’m
going in!”

Ham stood alone with a rope tied round his body. Several of the strongest sailors held on to the
other end of the rope. The wtrck was breaking up. Now there was only one man upon the mast
and his life hung by a thread. There was a red cap Something in his action reminded me of a once
dear friend.

Ham watched the sea, until there was a great retiring wave. Then he dashed in after it and in a
moment we saw him fighting the waves. He was hurt – I saw blood upon his face – but he fought
on bravely. The distance was nothing, but the power of the sea and wind made the fight deadly. At
length he neared the wreck, when a high, green hillside of water seemed to leap up and the ship
was gone! There was shock in every face as the cruel waves drought Ham to my very feet-----
unconscious, dead. He was carried to the nearest house, where every means of restoration were
tried. But he had been beaten to death by the great wave and his generous heart stilled for ever.

As I sat by his bed, a fisherman who had known me since Emily and I and Ham were children,
whispered, “Sir, will you came this way?”
A sudden terror filled my heart, “Has a body come ashore?” I asked.

“Yes.” He said.

“Do I know it?” I asked then.

He did not answer. But he led me to the shoreeeeee. And on that part of it, where Emily ans I had
long ago looked for shells, on that part of it, where the storm had shattered and blown down the
old boat—among the ruins of the home that he had wronged –I saw him lying with his head upon
his arm, as I has so often seen him lie at school, his handsome face half- hidden by his long, cutling
hair.

They brought a hand- bier and laid him on it and covered him with a flag. They carried Steerforth
through the wild roar of the storm and took him to the cottage where death was already present.
But when they reached the threshold they whispered to one another and I knew why. They felt as
if it were not right to lay him down in the same quiet room. I went with them as they carried him
to the inn.

Later I had to break the news of her son’s death to Mrs Steerforth. She feel back stiffly in her chair,
making no sound but a moan which went to my heart. When I left her, she was still as rigid as a
statue, moaning from time to time in the same dumb way, but giving no other sign of life.

One more painful duty I had to perform. I had to conceal Ham’s death from Mr peggotty and
Emily, so that they left for Australia in happy ignorance. Mr Micawber promised to help me by
interceping any newspapers which might bring news of the storm to Mr Peggotty.

As my old nurse and I stood on the deck saying goodbye, Martha came and stood before me, “You
are taking her with you!” I said to Mr PEggotty. Heaven bless you, You good man!” If I have ever
loved and honoured any man, I loved and honoured his man in my soul. The time came for us to
leave, I embraced Mr Peggotty, bade an affectionate goodbye to the Micawbers and hurried away.

As the ship began to move, I saw Emily at her uncle’s said, waving her last goodbye to Peggotty
and me. Yes, Emily, cling to your uncle with the utmost trust of your bruised heart. For he has
watched over you, with all the might of his great love!

Soon after this, I left England. I left all those who were dear to me and went away. For many
months, I wandered from country to country, a sad lonely man. I mourned for my child- wife,
taken from her blooming world so young, I mourned for my once dear friend and for the broken
heart that had found rest in the stormy sea.

I settled down for a while in Switzerland and began to write. I wrote a story out of my experiences
and sent it to Traddles. He arranged began to bring me both fame and fortune.

I cannot say exactly at what stage Agnes came to dwell more and more in my mind and heart. I
realized that in my wayward boyhood, I had thrown away the treasure of her love. She might once
have loved me but then I had given my love to Dore I knew mow that I loved her, but it was too
late.

Three years after I had left, I returned to England and landed in London on a wintry autumn
evening. I went to ser Trddles-he was married now and doing well as a lawyer. The following day, I
took the coach to Dover where my aunt had re-settled herself. I burst into the old parlour while
she was having tea and was welcomed by her and Mr Dick and dear old Peggotty ( who acted as
their housekeeper) with open arms and tears of joy.

My aunt and I talked far into the night. She gave me news of the emigrants who had been writing
home regularly. All of them were regularly magistrate! Mr Peggotty was a prosperous and
hardworking Farmer.

I then enquired about Mr Wickfield and Agnes. “ Is Agnes still unmarried?” I asked, concealing my
apprehension.

“She is because she wishes to de,” said my aunt. “If Agnes had wanted to, she could have been
married twenty time by now.”

“ Now doubt,” I said, “but has she any Special attachment to anyone?”
My aunt slowly raised her eyes to mine.