him, at parting, 'as sharp as a ferret,
and as cunning as a weazel. You bring Trent to me; assure him that I'm
his friend though I fear he a little distrusts me (I don't know why, I
have not deserved it); and you've both of you made your fortunes--in
perspective.'

'That's the worst of it,' returned Dick. 'These fortunes in
perspective look such a long way off.'

'But they look smaller than they really are, on that account,' said
Quilp, pressing his arm. 'You'll have no conception of the value of
your prize until you draw close to it. Mark that.'

'D'ye think not?' said Dick.

'Aye, I do; and I am certain of what I say, that's better,' returned
the dwarf. 'You bring Trent to me. Tell him I am his friend and
yours--why shouldn't I be?'

'There's no reason why you shouldn't, certainly,' replied Dick, 'and
perhaps there are a great many why you should--at least there would be
nothing strange in your wanting to be my friend, if you were a choice
spirit, but then you know you're not a choice spirit.'

'I not a choice spirit?' cried Quilp.

'Devil a bit, sir,' returned Dick. 'A man of your appearance couldn't
be. If you're any spirit at all, sir, you're an evil spirit. Choice
spirits,' added Dick, smiting himself on the breast, 'are quite a
different looking sort of people, you may take your oath of that, sir.'

Quilp glanced at his free-spoken friend with a mingled expression of
cunning and dislike, and wringing his hand almost at the same moment,
declared that he was an uncommon character and had his warmest esteem.
With that they parted; Mr Swiveller to make the best of his way home
and sleep himself sober; and Quilp to cogitate upon the discovery he
had made, and exult in the prospect of the rich field of enjoyment and
reprisal it opened to him.

It was not without great reluctance and misgiving that Mr Swiveller,
next morning, his head racked by the fumes of the renowned Schiedam,
repaired to the lodging of his friend Trent (which was in the roof of
an old house in an old ghostly inn), and recounted by very slow degrees
what had yesterday taken place between him and Quilp. Nor was it
without great surprise and much speculation on Quilp's probable
motives, nor without many bitter comments on Dick Swiveller's folly,
that his friend received the tale.

'I don't defend myself, Fred,' said the penitent Richard; 'but the
fellow has such a queer way with him and is such an artful dog, that
first of all he