some medium of communication; and a murmur went round the group, as his door shut upon him, that he was a most respectable man, and a beautiful case.
"Now, Twenty Seven," said Mr. Creakle, entering on a clear stage with his man, "is there anything that any one can do for you? If so, mention it."
"I would umbly ask, sir," returned Uriah, with a jerk of his malevolent head, "for leave to write again to mother."
"It shall certainly be granted," said Mr. Creakle.
"Thank you, sir! I am anxious about mother. I am afraid she ain't safe."
Somebody incautiously asked, what from? But there was a scandalised whisper of "Hush!"
"Immortally safe, sir," returned Uriah, writhing in the direction of the voice. "I should wish mother to be got into my state. I never should have been got into my present state if I hadn't come here. I wish mother had come here. It would be better for everybody, if they got took up, and was brought here."
This sentiment gave unbounded satisfaction—greater satisfaction, I think, than anything that had passed yet.
"Before I come here," said Uriah, stealing a look at us, as if he would have blighted the outer world to which we belonged, if he could, "I was given to follies; but now I am sensible of my follies. There's a deal of sin outside. There's a deal of sin in mother. There's nothing but sin everywhere—except here."
"You are quite changed?" said Mr. Creakle.
"Oh dear, yes, sir!" cried this hopeful penitent.
"You wouldn't relapse, if you were going out?" asked somebody else.
"Oh de-ar no, sir!"
"Well!" said Mr. Creakle, "this is very gratifying. You have addressed Mr. Copperfleld, Twenty Seven. Do you wish to say anything further to him?"
"You knew me, a long time before I came here and was changed, Mr. Copperfield," said Uriah, looking at me; and a more villainous look I never saw, even on his visage. "You knew me when, in spite of my follies, I was umble among them that was proud, and meek among them that was violent—you was violent to me yourself, Mr. Copperfield. Once, you struck me a blow in the face, you know."
General commiseration. Several indignant glances directed at me.
"But I forgive you, Mr. Copperfield," said Uriah, making his forgiving nature the subject of a most impious and awful parallel, which I shall not record. "I forgive everybody. It would ill become me to bear malice. I freely forgive you, and I hope you'll curb your passions in future. I hope Mr. W. will repent, and Miss W., and all of that sinful lot. You've been visited with affliction, and I hope it may do you good; but you'd better have come here. Mr. W. had better have come here, and Miss W. too. The best wish I could give you, Mr. Copperfield, and give all of you gentlemen, is, that you could be took up and brought here. When I think of my past follies, and my present state, I am sure it would be best for you. I pity all who ain't brought here!"
