d cheeses (canes he
made it that day, I remember), my mother burst out crying.

"Clara!" said Miss Murdstone, in her warning voice.

"I am not quite well, my dear Jane, I think," said my mother.

I saw him wink, solemnly, at his sister, as he rose and said, taking up
the cane:

"Why, Jane, we can hardly expect Clara to bear, with perfect firmness,
the worry and torment that David has caused her to-day. Clara is greatly
strengthened and improved; but we can hardly expect so much from her.
David, you and I will go up-stairs, boy."

As he took me out at the door, my mother ran towards us. Miss Murdstone
said, "Clara! are you a perfect fool?" and interfered. I saw my mother
stop her ears then, and I heard her crying.

He walked me up to my room slowly and gravely--I am certain he had a
delight in that formal show of doing justice--and when we got there,
suddenly twisted my head under his arm.

"Mr. Murdstone! Sir!" I cried to him. "Don't! Pray don't beat me! I have
tried to learn, sir, but I can't learn while you and Miss Murdstone are
by. I can't indeed!"

"Can't you, indeed, David?" he said. "We'll try that."

He had my head as in a vise, but I twined round him somehow, and stopped
him for a moment, entreating him not to beat me. It was only for a
moment that I stopped him, for he cut me heavily an instant afterwards,
and in the same instant I caught the hand with which he held me in my
mouth, between my teeth, and bit it through. It sets my teeth on edge to
think of it.

He beat me then, as if he would have beaten me to death. Above all the
noise we made, I heard them running up the stairs, and crying out--I
heard my mother crying out--and Peggotty. Then he was gone; and the door
was locked outside; and I was lying, fevered, and hot, and torn, and
raging in my puny way, upon the floor.

How well I recollect, when I became quiet, what an unnatural stillness
seemed to reign through the whole house! How well I remember, when my
smart and passion began to cool, how wicked I began to feel!

I sat listening for a long while, but there was not a sound. I crawled
up from the floor, and saw my face in the glass, so swollen, red, and
ugly that it almost frightened me. My stripes were sore and stiff, and
made me cry afresh, when I moved; but they were nothing to the guilt I
felt. It lay heavier on my breast than if I had been a most terrible
criminal, I dare say, and the longer I thought of it the greater the
offense