e of concealment, made it at least not unlikely that she had
written from that spot where she was stated to have been seen.

'What answer was sent?' I inquired of Mr. Peggotty.

'Missis Gummidge,' he returned, 'not being a good scholar, sir, Ham
kindly drawed it out, and she made a copy on it. They told her I was
gone to seek her, and what my parting words was.'

'Is that another letter in your hand?' said I.

'It's money, sir,' said Mr. Peggotty, unfolding it a little way. 'Ten
pound, you see. And wrote inside, "From a true friend," like the fust.
But the fust was put underneath the door, and this come by the post, day
afore yesterday. I'm a-going to seek her at the post-mark.'

He showed it to me. It was a town on the Upper Rhine. He had found out,
at Yarmouth, some foreign dealers who knew that country, and they had
drawn him a rude map on paper, which he could very well understand. He
laid it between us on the table; and, with his chin resting on one hand,
tracked his course upon it with the other.

I asked him how Ham was? He shook his head.

'He works,' he said, 'as bold as a man can. His name's as good, in all
that part, as any man's is, anywheres in the wureld. Anyone's hand is
ready to help him, you understand, and his is ready to help them. He's
never been heerd fur to complain. But my sister's belief is ('twixt
ourselves) as it has cut him deep.'

'Poor fellow, I can believe it!'

'He ain't no care, Mas'r Davy,' said Mr. Peggotty in a solemn
whisper--'kinder no care no-how for his life. When a man's wanted for
rough sarvice in rough weather, he's theer. When there's hard duty to
be done with danger in it, he steps for'ard afore all his mates. And yet
he's as gentle as any child. There ain't a child in Yarmouth that doen't
know him.'

He gathered up the letters thoughtfully, smoothing them with his hand;
put them into their little bundle; and placed it tenderly in his breast
again. The face was gone from the door. I still saw the snow drifting
in; but nothing else was there.

'Well!' he said, looking to his bag, 'having seen you tonight, Mas'r
Davy (and that doos me good!), I shall away betimes tomorrow morning.
You have seen what I've got heer'; putting his hand on where the little
packet lay; 'all that troubles me is, to think that any harm might come
to me, afore that money was give back. If I was to die, and it was lost,
or stole, or elseways made away with, and it was never know'd by him
but