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I left the peaceful sleeping village， the mist over the marshes was rising，to show me the great unknown world I was entering． Suddenly I realized what I was leaving behind－my childhood， my home，and Joe． Then I wished I had asked him to walk with me to the coach， and I could not stop crying． Whenever the horses were changed on the journey， I wondered with an aching heart whether to get down and go back to say goodbye properly．But the mist had completely risen now， and my new world lay ahead of me．
7 Pip arrives in London
At that time everybody in England agreed that London was a wonderful city．So I was surprised to find it rather ugly， with narrow dirty streets， and people crowded into tiny houses． I was frightened by its huge size． At Smith－field， the meat market， I was shocked by the dirt and blood everywhere Then I came to Newgate Prison， where a drunk old man showed me the place where prisoners were hanged，and told me excitedly that four men would die there tomorrow． I was disgusted by this news．My first impression of London could not have been worse．
However I managed to find Mr Jaggers’ office， noticing that other people were waiting for the great man too． After some time he appeared， walking towards me． His clients all rushed at him together． He spoke to some， and pushed others away．One man held on to the lawyer's sleeve．
‘Please， Mr Jaggers，’he begged，‘my brother is accused of stealing silver． Only you can save him！ I'm ready to pay any－thing！’
‘Your brother？’repeated the lawyer．‘And the trial is to－morrow？ Well，I'm sorry for you， and him．I'm on the other side．’
‘No，Mr Jaggers！’ cried the man desperately， tears in his eyes．‘Don't say you're against him！I'll pay anything！’
‘Get out of my way，’said Mr Jaggers and we left the man on his knees on the pavement．
Now Mr Jaggers turned to me and told me that on Monday I would go to Matthew Pocket's house to start my studies， but until then I would stay with his son， Herbert， who lived near…by．
Wemmick， Mr Jaggers’ clerk，showed me the way to Mr Pocket's rooms．He was a short， dry man， with a square， expressionless face，between forty and fifty years old． His mouth was so wide that it looked like a post…box，and gave the impression of smiling all the time．
‘Is London a very wicked place？’I asked him， trying to make conversation as we walked．
‘You may be robbed or murdered in London． But that may happen to you anywhere， if there is any profit in it for the criminal．’
I was not sure whether I looked forward to living in London， where people like Wemmick accepted crime so calmly．
We arrived at Herbert Pocket's rented rooms． The building was the dirtiest I had ever seen， with broken windows and dusty doors．It stood in a little square with dying trees around it．I looked in horror at Mr Wemmick．
‘Ah！’ he said，not understanding my look．‘Its quiet position makes you think of the country．I quite agree．Goodbye，Mr Pip．’
I went up the stairs， where there was a note on Mr Pocket's door， saying ‘Returning soon．’His idea of ‘soon’was not the same as mine． About half an hour later I heard footsteps rushing upstairs， and a young man of my age appeared breath…less at the door．‘Mr Pip？’he said．‘I'm so sorry I'm late！’
I greeted him in a confused manner， unable to believe my eyes Suddenly he looked closely at me and gasped．
‘But you're the boy at Miss Havisham's！’
‘And you，’ I said，‘are the pale young gentleman！’
We both started laughing， and shook hands．
‘Well！’ he said，‘I hope you'll forgive me for having knocked you down that day．’In fact I had knocked him down． But I did not contradict him．
‘Do you know why I was there？’ he asked．‘I had been invited to Miss Havisham's to see if she liked me．I suppose I didn't make a good impression on her．If she had liked me，I could be a rich man and engaged to Estella by now．’
‘Were you disappointed？’I asked．
‘Oh！I wouldn't want to marry Estella！She's a hard，proud girl， and Miss Havisham has brought her up to break men's hearts， as a revenge on all men．’
‘Is she a relation of Miss Havisham's？’I asked．
‘No，only adopted． Why were you at Miss Havisham's then？’
‘To make my fortune， the same as you！ But I was lucky．’
‘You know Mr Jaggers is Miss Havisham's lawyer？It was kind of him to suggest that my father should teach you． My father is Miss Havisham's cousin， you know．’
Herbert Pocket made an excellent impression on me． He always spoke openly and honestly．There was nothing secret or mean in his character， and we soon became good friends． I told him of my past life in the village， and my expectations．
‘Call me Herbert，’ he said．‘Would you mind my calling you Handel？ There's a wonderful piece of music by Handel，called The Blacksmith， which reminds me of you．’ Of course I agreed， and as we sat down to dinner， Herbert told me Miss Havisham's sad story．
‘Her mother died young． Her father was very rich and very proud， with only one child， Miss Havisham， by his first wife．Then he married his cook， and had a son by her．This son， a half…brother to Miss Havisham， was a bad character， and didn't inherit as much from his father as Miss Havisham did．And so perhaps he was angry with her for influencing her father against him．
‘Anyway，a certain man appeared， and pretended he was in love with Miss Havisham． She was certainly in love with him，and gave him whatever money he asked for． My father was the only one of her relations who dared to tell her that this man should not be trusted． She was so angry that she ordered my father straight out of the house， and he has never seen her since． Her other relations were not interested in her happiness but only in inheriting her wealth， so they said nothing． The couple fixed the wedding day， the guests were invited， the dress and the cake were brought to the house． The day came，but the man did not． He wrote a letter—’
‘Which she received at twenty to nine， when she was dressing for her wedding？’ I said．
‘Yes，so she stopped the clocks at that moment．She was very ill for a while， and since then has not seen daylight． People think that her half－brother sent the man to get money from her， and that he shared the profits． Perhaps he hated her for inheriting most of the Havisham fortune． Nobody knows what happened to the two men． So now you know as much as I do！’
We talked of other things．I asked Herbert what his profession was．
‘Oh，working in the City，’ he said happily．‘Insuring ships．There's a lot of money in that， you know． Huge profits！’
I began to think that Herbert must have greater expectations than I had．
‘Where are your ships at the moment？’ I asked admiringly．
‘Oh， I haven't started yet．I'm working in a counting…house just now． They don't pay me much， but I'm looking about me for a good opportunity． Then I'll make my fortune！’
Looking around the room， at the old， worn furniture，I realized that Herbert must be very poor．And although he seemed full of hope for the future， somehow I thought he would never be very rich or successful．
He and I spent a happy weekend visiting London together．Although it was all very exciting， I could not avoid noticing the dirt and bad smells and heat， and I compared it sadly with my village home， which now seemed so far away．
8 Visiting Mr Wemmick and Mr Jaggers
Herbert introduced me to his father， who lived the other side of London， in Hammersmith． In the next few months I studied hard with Mr Pocket， who was always a most kind and helpful teacher．I divided my time between Herbert's and his father's home． If I needed money，I collected it from Wemmick at Mr Jaggers’ office， and there seemed to be plenty of money available．
There were two other gentlemen studying at Mr Pocket's．They were quite different from each other． Bentley Drummle came from a rich family living in the country． He was lazy，proud， mean and stupid．I much preferred Startop， who was a pleasant， sensitive young man．He and I used to row our boats up and down the river together． But Herbert was my greatest friend， and we used to spend most of our time with each other．
One day when I was collecting my money from Wemmick，he invited me to his house at Walworth， a village outside Lon－don．
‘You don't mind walking there， Mr Pip？’he asked．‘I like to get some exercise if I can．For dinner we're having a roast chicken． I think it'll be a good one because I got it from one of our clients． I always accept any little presents from clients， especially if it's cash， or anything that can easily be changed into cash． You see these rings I'm wearing？ Given by clients， just before they died．All hanged， they were．By the way，I hope you won't mind meeting my aged parent？’
‘No，of course not，’I said quickly．
‘You haven't had dinner with Mr Jaggers yet？’ Wemmick continued．‘He's inviting you， and the other three young gentlemen， tomorrow． There'll be good food and drink at his house． But I'll tell you something， Mr Pip．When you're there， look at his housekeeper．’
‘Why？’ I asked．‘Is there something strange about her？’
‘She's like a wild animal．But Mr Jaggers has trained her！Oh yes！He's stronger，and cleverer， and more complicated than anyone else in London．And you know，another strange thing about him， he never locks his doors or windows at night．’
‘Isn't he ever robbed？’I asked in surprise．
‘All the thieves in London know where he lives，but none of them would dare to rob him． They are all afraid of him， you see．They know he wouldn't rest until he had seen them hanged． He's a great man， Mr Pip．’
Wemmick's house at Walworth was a tiny wooden house in the middle of a garden． On top of the roof was a small gun．
‘We fire the gun at nine o’clock every evening，’said Wemmick proudly．‘And behind the house－I call it the Castle－I keep animals， and grow my own vegetables．So，in case of enemy attack， we can always eat our own food．What do you think of it？’
I congratulated him on his home． He was clearly delighted to show a visitor all his ideas and improvements．
‘I do everything myself，you know，’ he said．‘It helps me forget the office for a while． Would you mind being introduced to the Aged now？ He would like it very much．’
So we entered the Castle， where we found a cheerful old man sitting by the fire．
‘well，aged parent，’ said Wemmick，‘how are you？’
‘Very well， John，’ replied the old man，nodding happily．
‘Here's Mr Pip，aged parent． Nod your head at him， Mr Pip，he's completely deaf，but he likes to see people nod at him．’
‘This is a fine house of my son's， sir，’ cried the old man，nodding back at me．‘It should be kept by the nation for the public to visit after my son's death．’
‘You're proud of it，aren't you，Aged？’said Wemmick，his face losing all its usual hardness as he looked at the old man．
‘I hope Mr Jaggers admires your home， Mr Wemmick？’ I asked．
‘He's never been here． Never met the Aged．Never been invited． No， the office is one thing， and private life is another． At the office I never speak of the Castle， and at the Castle I don't think about the office．’
The Aged was obviously looking forward to the evening ceremony of firing the gun． At nine o’clock exactly Wemmick fired it．As the tiny house shook， the Aged jumped up and down in his armchair， crying excitedly，‘I heard it！That's the gun！’
Supper was excellent， and I spent the night in the smallest bedroom I had ever seen． Next morning， as Wemmick and I walked back to London， I noticed his face becoming dryer and harder， and his mouth becoming more like a post…box again．When we arrived at the office，nobody could have guessed that he had a home， or an aged parent， or any interests at all out－side his work．
Wemmick was right in saying that Mr Jaggers would invite me to dinner． Startop， Drummle， Herbert and I were asked to go to the of