“You do not, sir,” said William.

“In their presence,” pursued Pumblechook, “I will tell you, young man, what to say to Joseph.  Says you, “Joseph, I have this day seen my earliest benefactor and the founder of my fortun’s.  I will name no names, Joseph, but so they are pleased to call him up-town, and I have seen that man.”

“I swear I don’t see him here,” said I.

“Say that likewise,” retorted Pumblechook.  “Say you said that, and even Joseph will probably betray surprise.”

“There you quite mistake him,” said I.  “I know better.”

“Says you,” Pumblechook went on, “’Joseph, I have seen that man, and that man bears you no malice and bears me no malice.  He knows your character, Joseph, and is well acquainted with your pig-headedness and ignorance; and he knows my character, Joseph, and he knows my want of gratitoode.  Yes, Joseph,’ says you,” here Pumblechook shook his head and hand at me, “’he knows my total deficiency of common human gratitoode.  He knows it, Joseph, as none can.  You do not know it, Joseph, having no call to know it, but that man do.’”

Windy donkey as he was, it really amazed me that he could have the face to talk thus to mine.

“Says you, ’Joseph, he gave me a little message, which I will now repeat.  It was, that in my being brought low, he saw the finger of Providence.  He knowed that finger when he saw it, Joseph, and he saw it plain.  It pinted out this writing, Joseph.  Reward of ingratitoode to his earliest benefactor, and founder of fortun’s.  But that man said he did not repent of what he had done, Joseph.  Not at all.  It was right to do it, it was kind to do it, it was benevolent to do it, and he would do it again.’”

“It’s pity,” said I, scornfully, as I finished my interrupted breakfast, “that the man did not say what he had done and would do again.”

“Squires of the Boar!” Pumblechook was now addressing the landlord, “and William!  I have no objections to your mentioning, either up-town or down-town, if such should be your wishes, that it was right to do it, kind to do it, benevolent to do it, and that I would do it again.”

With those words the Impostor shook them both by the hand, with an air, and left the house; leaving me much more astonished than delighted by the virtues of that same indefinite “it.”  I was not long after him in leaving the house too, and when I went down the High-street I saw him holding forth (no doubt to the same effect) at his shop door to a select group, who honoured me with very unfavourable glances as I passed on the opposite side of the way.

But, it was only the pleasanter to turn to Biddy and to Joe, whose great forbearance shone more brightly than before, if that could be, contrasted with this brazen pretender.  I went towards them slowly, for my limbs were weak, but with a sense of increasing relief as I drew nearer to them, and a sense of leaving arrogance and untruthfulness further and further behind.