Martin was by this time stirring, but he had greatly changed, even in one night.  He was very pale and languid, and spoke of pains and weakness.

“Don’t give in, sir,” said Mr. Tapley.  “Why, you must be ill.  Wait half a minute, till I run up to one of our neighbours and find out what’s best to be took.”

Martin was soon dangerously ill, very near his death.  Mark, fatigued in mind and body, working all the day and sitting up at night, worn by hard living, surrounded by dismal and discouraging circumstances, never complained or yielded in the least degree.  And then, when Martin was better, Mark was taken ill.  He fought against it; but the malady fought harder, and his efforts were vain.

“Floored for the present, sir,” he said one morning, sinking back upon his bed, “but jolly.”

And now it was Martin’s turn to work and sit beside the bed and watch, and listen through the long, long nights to every sound in the gloomy wilderness.

Martin’s reflections in those days slowly showed him his own selfishness, and when Mark Tapley recovered, he found a singular alteration in his companion.

“I don’t know what to make of him,” he thought one night.  “He don’t think of himself half as much as he did.  It’s a swindle.  There’ll be no credit in being jolly with him!”

The settlement was deserted.  The only thing to be done was to return to England.

IV.—­The Downfall of Pecksniff

Old Martin Chuzzlewit had for some time taken up his residence at Mr. Pecksniff’s, and Martin and Mark Tapley went to the Blue Dragon on their return.

Martin at once sought out his grandfather, and marched into the house resolved on reconciliation.  The old man listened to his appeal in silence; but Mr. Pecksniff spoke for him, and bade the young man begone.

But old Martin was awake to Pecksniff’s character, and resolved to set Mr. Pecksniff right, and Mr. Pecksniff’s victims, too.

Mark Tapley was the first person old Martin invited to see him.  The old man had gone to London, and his grandson, Mary Graham, and Tom Pinch were all summoned to wait on him at a certain hour.

From Mark, old Martin learnt that his grandson was an altered man.

“There was always a deal of good in him,” said Mr. Tapley, “but a little of it got crusted over somehow.  I can’t say who rolled the paste of that ’ere paste, but—­well, I think it may have been you, sir.”

“So you think,” said Martin, “that his old faults are in some degree of my creation?”

“Well, sir, I’m very sorry, but I can’t unsay it.  I don’t believe that neither of you ever gave the other a fair chance.”

Presently came a knock at the door, and young Martin entered.  The old man pointed to a distant chair.  Then came Tom Pinch and his sister, Ruth; and Mary Graham; and Mrs. Lupin, the landlady of the Blue Dragon; and John Westlock, an old friend of Tom Pinch’s.