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'Dear Nicholas, whispered Kate, touching her brother's arm, 'who is that vulgar man? 'Eh! growled Ralph, whose quick ears had caught the inquiry. 'Do you wish to be introduced to Mr Squeers, my dear? 'That the schoolmaster! No, uncle. Oh no! replied Kate, shrinking back. 'I'm sure I heard you say as much, my dear, retorted Ralph in his cold sarcastic manner.
When he arrived, punctually at the appointed hour, he found that learned gentleman sitting at breakfast, with five little boys, whom he was to take down with him, ranged in a row on the opposite seat. Mr. Squeers had before him a small measure of coffee, a plate of hot toast, and a cold round of beef, but he was at that moment intent on preparing breakfast for the little boys.
'You think he has run away, do you, sir? demanded Squeers. 'Yes, please sir, replied the little boy. 'And what, sir, said Squeers, catching the little boy suddenly by the arms and whisking up his drapery in a most dexterous manner, 'what reason have you to suppose that any boy would want to run away from this establishment? Eh, sir?
'He looks well, indeed, returned Ralph, who, for some purposes of his own, seemed desirous to conciliate the schoolmaster. 'But how is Mrs Squeers, and how are you? 'Mrs Squeers, sir, replied the proprietor of Dotheboys, 'is as she always is a mother to them lads, and a blessing, and a comfort, and a joy to all them as knows her.
As the party was not in his way, therefore, but rather afforded a means of compromise with Miss Squeers, he readily yielded his full assent thereunto, and willingly communicated to Nicholas that he was expected to take his tea in the parlour that evening, at five o'clock.
How long Mr Squeers might have declaimed, or how stormy a discussion his declamation might have led to, nobody knows.
There was the wooden gallery outside, where the chamber-maids stood to see the coach off; the archway under which poor Nicholas drove that cold morning; the office, or bar, where the miserable little boys shivered while they took alternate sips out of one mug, and bolted hunches of bread and butter as Squeers 'nagged' them in private and talked to them like a father in public.
John Browdie's only reply was another squeeze of the hand, and an assurance that they would not begin to see London till tomorrow, so that they might be at Mr Snawley's at six o'clock without fail; and after some further conversation, Mr Squeers and his son departed.
Nicholas Nickleby was from that moment installed in the office of first assistant master at Dotheboys Hall. "At eight o'clock to-morrow morning, Mr. Nickleby," said Squeers, "the coach starts. You must be here at a quarter before, as we take some boys with us." "And your fare down I have paid," growled Ralph. "So you'll have nothing to do but keep yourself warm." II. At Dotheboys Hall
'Just as long as their friends make the quarterly payments to my agent in town, or until such time as they run away, replied Squeers. 'Let us understand each other; I see we may safely do so. What are these boys; natural children? 'No, rejoined Snawley, meeting the gaze of the schoolmaster's one eye. 'They ain't. 'I thought they might be, said Squeers, coolly.
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