orward, and stood, leering and bowing, close by Ralph's
side, when the door opened and there entered in haste--not Bray and his
daughter, but Nicholas and his sister Kate.

If some tremendous apparition from the world of shadows had suddenly
presented itself before him, Ralph Nickleby could not have been more
thunder-stricken than he was by this surprise. His hands fell powerless
by his side, he reeled back; and with open mouth, and a face of
ashy paleness, stood gazing at them in speechless rage: his eyes so
prominent, and his face so convulsed and changed by the passions which
raged within him, that it would have been difficult to recognise in him
the same stern, composed, hard-featured man he had been not a minute
ago.

'The man that came to me last night,' whispered Gride, plucking at his
elbow. 'The man that came to me last night!'

'I see,' muttered Ralph, 'I know! I might have guessed as much before.
Across my every path, at every turn, go where I will, do what I may, he
comes!'

The absence of all colour from the face; the dilated nostril; the
quivering of the lips which, though set firmly against each other, would
not be still; showed what emotions were struggling for the mastery
with Nicholas. But he kept them down, and gently pressing Kate's arm
to reassure her, stood erect and undaunted, front to front with his
unworthy relative.

As the brother and sister stood side by side, with a gallant bearing
which became them well, a close likeness between them was apparent,
which many, had they only seen them apart, might have failed to remark.
The air, carriage, and very look and expression of the brother were all
reflected in the sister, but softened and refined to the nicest limit
of feminine delicacy and attraction. More striking still was some
indefinable resemblance, in the face of Ralph, to both. While they had
never looked more handsome, nor he more ugly; while they had never held
themselves more proudly, nor he shrunk half so low; there never had been
a time when this resemblance was so perceptible, or when all the worst
characteristics of a face rendered coarse and harsh by evil thoughts
were half so manifest as now.

'Away!' was the first word he could utter as he literally gnashed his
teeth. 'Away! What brings you here? Liar, scoundrel, dastard, thief!'

'I come here,' said Nicholas in a low deep voice, 'to save your victim
if I can. Liar and scoundrel you are, in every action of your life;
theft