Here Mr Venus interposed, and remarked that he conceived Mr Boffin to have taken the description literally; the rather, forasmuch as he, Mr Venus, had himself supposed the menial to have contracted an affliction or a habit of the nose, involving a serious drawback on the pleasures of social intercourse, until he had discovered that Mr Wegg's description of him was to be accepted as merely figurative.
'Anyhow, and every how,' said Wegg, 'he has been planted here, and he is here. Now, I won't have him here. So I call upon Boffin, before I say another word, to fetch him in and send him packing to the right-about.'
The unsuspecting Sloppy was at that moment airing his many buttons within view of the window. Mr Boffin, after a short interval of impassive discomfiture, opened the window and beckoned him to come in.
'I call upon Boffin,' said Wegg, with one arm a-kimbo and his head on one side, like a bullying counsel pausing for an answer from a witness, 'to inform that menial that I am Master here!'
In humble obedience, when the button-gleaming Sloppy entered Mr Boffin said to him: 'Sloppy, my fine fellow, Mr Wegg is Master here. He doesn't want you, and you are to go from here.'
'For good!' Mr Wegg severely stipulated.
'For good,' said Mr Boffin.
Sloppy stared, with both his eyes and all his buttons, and his mouth wide open; but was without loss of time escorted forth by Silas Wegg, pushed out at the yard gate by the shoulders, and locked out.
'The atomspear,' said Wegg, stumping back into the room again, a little reddened by his late exertion, 'is now freer for the purposes of respiration. Mr Venus, sir, take a chair. Boffin, you may sit down.'
Mr Boffin, still with his hands ruefully stuck in his pockets, sat on the edge of the settle, shrunk into a small compass, and eyed the potent Silas with conciliatory looks.
'This gentleman,' said Silas Wegg, pointing out Venus, 'this gentleman, Boffin, is more milk and watery with you than I'll be.
But he hasn't borne the Roman yoke as I have, nor yet he hasn't been required to pander to your depraved appetite for miserly characters.'
'I never meant, my dear Wegg--' Mr Boffin was beginning, when Silas stopped him.
'Hold your tongue, Boffin! Answer when you're called upon to answer. You'll find you've got quite enough to do. Now, you're aware--are you--that you're in possession of property to which you've no right at all? Are you aware of that?'
'Venus tells me so,' said Mr Boffin, glancing towards him for any support he could give.
'I tell you so,' returned Silas. 'Now, here's my hat, Boffin, and here's my walking-stick. Trifle with me, and instead of ****** a bargain with you, I'll put on my hat and take up my walking-stick, and go out, and make a bargain with the rightful owner. Now, what do you say?'
'I say,' returned Mr Boffin, leaning forward in alarmed appeal, with his hands on his knees, 'that I am sure I don't want to trifle.
Wegg. I have said so to Venus.'
'You certainly have, sir,' said Venus.
'You're too milk and watery with our friend, you are indeed,' remonstrated Silas, with a disapproving shake of his wooden head.
Then at once you confess yourself desirous to come to terms, do you Boffin? Before you answer, keep this hat well in your mind and also this walking-stick.'
'I am willing, Wegg, to come to terms.'
'Willing won't do, Boffin. I won't take willing. Are you desirous to come to terms? Do you ask to be allowed as a favour to come to terms?' Mr Wegg again planted his arm, and put his head on one side.
'Yes.'
'Yes what?' said the inexorable Wegg: 'I won't take yes. I'll have it out of you in full, Boffin.'
'Dear me!' cried that unfortunate gentleman. 'I am so worrited! Iask to be allowed to come to terms, supposing your document is all correct.'
'Don't you be afraid of that,' said Silas, poking his head at him.
'You shall be satisfied by seeing it. Mr Venus will show it you, and I'll hold you the while. Then you want to know what the terms are. Is that about the sum and substance of it? Will you or won't you answer, Boffin?' For he had paused a moment.
'Dear me!' cried that unfortunate gentleman again, 'I am worrited to that degree that I'm almost off my head. You hurry me so. Be so good as name the terms, Wegg.'
'Now, mark, Boffin,' returned Silas: 'Mark 'em well, because they're the lowest terms and the only terms. You'll throw your Mound (the little Mound as comes to you any way) into the general estate, and then you'll divide the whole property into three parts, and you'll keep one and hand over the others.'
Mr Venus's mouth screwed itself up, as Mr Boffin's face lengthened itself, Mr Venus not having been prepared for such a rapacious demand.
'Now, wait a bit, Boffin,' Wegg proceeded, 'there's something more. You've been a squandering this property--laying some of it out on yourself. THAT won't do. You've bought a house. You'll be charged for it.'
'I shall be ruined, Wegg!' Mr Boffin faintly protested.
'Now, wait a bit, Boffin; there's something more. You'll leave me in sole custody of these Mounds till they're all laid low. If any waluables should be found in 'em, I'll take care of such waluables.
You'll produce your contract for the sale of the Mounds, that we may know to a penny what they're worth, and you'll make out likewise an exact list of all the other property. When the Mounds is cleared away to the last shovel-full, the final diwision will come off.'
'Dreadful, dreadful, dreadful! I shall die in a workhouse!' cried the Golden Dustman, with his hands to his head.
'Now, wait a bit, Boffin; there's something more. You've been unlawfully ferreting about this yard. You've been seen in the act of ferreting about this yard. Two pair of eyes at the present moment brought to bear upon you, have seen you dig up a Dutch bottle.'
'It was mine, Wegg,' protested Mr Boffin. 'I put it there myself.'
'What was in it, Boffin?' inquired Silas.
'Not gold, not silver, not bank notes, not jewels, nothing that you could turn into money, Wegg; upon my soul!'