“There was another in with Compeyson, as was called Arthur — not as being so chrisen’d, but as a surname.  He was in a Decline, and was a shadow to look at.  Him and Compeyson had been in a bad thing with a rich lady some years afore, and they’d made a pot of money by it; but Compeyson betted and gamed, and he’d have run through the king’s taxes.  So, Arthur was a-dying, and a-dying poor and with the horrors on him, and Compeyson’s wife (which Compeyson kicked mostly) was a-having pity on him when she could, and Compeyson was a-having pity on nothing and nobody.

“I might a-took warning by Arthur, but I didn’t; and I won’t pretend I was partick’ler — for where ’ud be the good on it, dear boy and comrade?  So I begun wi’ Compeyson, and a poor tool I was in his hands.  Arthur lived at the top of Compeyson’s house (over nigh Brentford it was), and Compeyson kept a careful account agen him for board and lodging, in case he should ever get better to work it out.  But Arthur soon settled the account.  The second or third time as ever I see him, he come a-tearing down into Compeyson’s parlour late at night, in only a flannel gown, with his hair all in a sweat, and he says to Compeyson’s wife, ’Sally, she really is upstairs alonger me, now, and I can’t get rid of her.  She’s all in white,’ he says, ‘wi’ white flowers in her hair, and she’s awful mad, and she’s got a shroud hanging over her arm, and she says she’ll put it on me at five in the morning.’

“Says Compeyson:  ’Why, you fool, don’t you know she’s got a living body?  And how should she be up there, without coming through the door, or in at the window, and up the stairs?’

“‘I don’t know how she’s there,’ says Arthur, shivering dreadful with the horrors, ’but she’s standing in the corner at the foot of the bed, awful mad.  And over where her heart’s brook — you broke it! — there’s drops of blood.’

“Compeyson spoke hardy, but he was always a coward.  ’Go up alonger this drivelling sick man,’ he says to his wife, ’and Magwitch, lend her a hand, will you?’ But he never come nigh himself.

“Compeyson’s wife and me took him up to bed agen, and he raved most dreadful.  ‘Why look at her!’ he cries out.  ’She’s a-shaking the shroud at me!  Don’t you see her?  Look at her eyes!  Ain’t it awful to see her so mad?’ Next, he cries, ’She’ll put it on me, and then I’m done for!  Take it away from her, take it away!’ And then he catched hold of us, and kep on a-talking to her, and answering of her, till I half believed I see her myself.

“Compeyson’s wife, being used to him, giv him some liquor to get the horrors off, and by-and-by he quieted.  ’Oh, she’s gone!  Has her keeper been for her?’ he says.  ‘Yes,’ says Compeyson’s wife.  ’Did you tell him to lock her and bar her in?’ ‘Yes.’  ’And to take that ugly thing away from her?’ ‘Yes, yes, all right.’  ’You’re a good creetur,’ he says, ’don’t leave me, whatever you do, and thank you!’