“Doen’t ye, dearest Dan’l, doen’t ye!” cried Mrs. Gummidge, fervently. “Take me ’long with you, Dan’l, take me ’long with you and Em’ly! I’ll be your servant, constant and trew. If there’s slaves in them parts where you’re a-going, I’ll be bound to you for one, and happy, but doen’t ye leave me behind, Dan’l, that’s a deary dear!”

“My good soul,” said Mr. Peggotty, shaking his head, “you doen’t know what a long voyage, and what a hard life ’tis.”

“Yes I do, Dan’l! I can guess!” cried Mrs. Gummidge. “But my parting words under this roof is, I shall go into the House and die, if I am not took. I can dig, Dan’l. I can work. I can live hard. I can be loving and patient now—more than you think, Dan’l, if you’ll on’y try me. I wouldn’t touch the ’lowance, not if I was dying of want, Dan’l Peggotty; but I’ll go with you and Em’ly, if you’ll on’y let me, to the world’s end! I know how ’tis; I know you think that I am lone and lorn; but, deary love, ’tan’t so no more! I an’t sat here, so long, a-watching, and a-thinking of your trials, without some good being done me. Mas’r Davy, speak to him for me! I knows his ways, and Em’ly’s, and I knows their sorrows, and can be a comfort to ’em, some odd times, and labour for ’em allus! Dan’l, deary Dan’l, let me go ’long with you!”

And Mrs. Gummidge took his hand, and kissed it with a homely pathos and affection, in a homely rapture of devotion and gratitude, that he well deserved.

We brought the locker out, extinguished the candle, fastened the door on the outside, and left the old boat close shut up, a dark speck in the cloudy night. Next day, when we were returning to London outside the coach, Mrs. Gummidge and her basket were on the seat behind, and Mrs. Gummidge was happy.