I was spared the trouble of answering by being dismissed, and went home dissatisfied and uncomfortable, thinking myself coarse and common, and wanting to be a gentleman.

It was in the fourth year of my apprenticeship when, one Saturday night, Joe and I were up at the Three Jolly Bargemen, according to our custom.

A stranger, who did not recognise me, but whom I recognised as a gentleman I had met on the stairs at Miss Havisham’s, was in the room; and on his asking for a blacksmith named Gargery and his apprentice named Pip, and, being answered, said he wanted to have a private conference with us two.

Joe took him home, and the stranger told us his name was Jaggers, and that he was a lawyer in London.

“Now, Joseph Gargery, I am the bearer of an offer to relieve you of this young fellow, your apprentice.  You would not object to cancel his indentures at his request and for his good?”

“No,” said Joe.

“The communication I have got to make to this young fellow is that he has great expectations.”

Joe and I gasped, and looked at one another.

“I am instructed to tell him,” said Mr. Jaggers, “that he will come into a handsome property.  Further, it is the desire of the present possessor of that property that he be immediately removed from his present sphere of life and be brought up as a gentleman, and that he always bear the name of Pip.  Now, you are to understand that the name of the person who is your liberal benefactor remains a profound secret until the person chooses to reveal it, and you are most positively prohibited from making any inquiry on this head.  If you have a suspicion, keep it in your own breast.”

Mr. Jaggers went on to say that if I accepted the expectations on these terms, there was already money in hand for my education and maintenance, and that one Mr. Matthew Pocket, in London (whom I knew to be a relation of Miss Havisham’s), could be my tutor if I was willing to go to him, say in a week’s time.  Of course I accepted this wonderful good fortune, and had no doubt in my own mind that Miss Havisham was my benefactress.

When Mr. Jaggers asked Joe whether he desired any compensation, Joe laid his hand upon my shoulder with the touch of a woman.  “Pip is that hearty welcome,” said Joe, “to go free with his services, to honour and fortun’, as no words can tell him.  But if you think as money can make compensation to me for the loss of the little child—­what come to the forge—­and ever the best of friends!” He scooped his eyes with his disengaged hand, but said not another word.

III.—­I Know My Benefactor

I went to London, and studied with Mr. Matthew Pocket, and shared rooms with his son Herbert (who, knowing my earlier life, decided to call me Handel), first in Barnard’s Inn and later in the Temple.

On my twenty-first birthday I received L500, and this (unknown to Herbert) I managed to make over to my friend in order to secure him a managership in a business house.