



Produced by Charles Aldarondo.  HTML version by Al Haines.









The Nether World


by

George Gissing




CONTENTS


 CHAPTER

       I  A THRALL OF THRALLS
      II  A FRIEND IN REQUEST
     III  A SUPERFLUOUS FAMILY
      IV  CLARA AND JANE
       V  JANE IS VISITED
      VI  GLIMPSES OF THE PAST
     VII  MRS. BYASS'S LODGINGS
    VIII  PENNYLOAF CANDY
      IX  PATHOLOGICAL
       X  THE LAST COMBAT
      XI  A DISAPPOINTMENT
     XII  'IO SATURNALIA!'
    XIII  THE BRINGER OF ILL NEWS
     XIV  A WELCOME GUEST
      XV  SUNLIGHT IN DREARY PLACES
     XVI  DIALOGUE AND COMMENT
    XVII  CLEM MAKES A DISCLOSURE
   XVIII  THE JOKE IS COMPLETED
     XIX  A RETREAT
      XX  A VISION OF NOBLE THINGS
     XXI  DEATH THE RECONCILER
    XXII  WATCHING FROM AMBUSH
   XXIII  ON THE EVE OF TRIUMPH
    XXIV  THE FAMILY HISTORY PROGRESSES
     XXV  A DOUBLE CONSECRATION
    XXVI  SIDNEY'S STRUGGLE
   XXVII  CLARA'S RETURN
  XXVIII  THE SOUP-KITCHEN
    XXIX  PHANTOMS
     XXX  ON A BARREN SHORE
    XXXI  WOMAN AND ACTRESS
   XXXII  A HAVEN
  XXXIII  A FALL FROM THE IDEAL
   XXXIV  THE DEBT REPAID
    XXXV  THE TREASURY UNLOCKED
   XXXVI  THE HEIR
  XXXVII  MAD JACK'S DREAM
 XXXVIII  JOSEPH TRANSACTS MUCH BUSINESS
   XXXIX  SIDNEY
      XL  JANE




CHAPTER I

A THRALL OF THRALLS

In the troubled twilight of a March evening ten years ago, an old man,
whose equipment and bearing suggested that he was fresh from travel,
walked slowly across Clerkenwell Green, and by the graveyard of St.
James's Church stood for a moment looking about him. His age could not
be far from seventy, but, despite the stoop of his shoulders, he gave
little sign of failing under the burden of years; his sober step
indicated gravity of character rather than bodily feebleness, and his
grasp of a stout stick was not such as bespeaks need of support. His
attire was neither that of a man of leisure, nor of the kind usually
worn by English mechanics. Instead of coat and waistcoat, he wore a
garment something like a fisherman's guernsey, and over this a coarse
short cloak, picturesque in appearance as it was buffeted by the wind.
His trousers were of moleskin; his boots reached almost to his knees;
for head-covering he had the cheapest kind of undyed felt, its form
exactly that of the old petasus. To say that his aspect was Venerable
would serve to present him in a measure, yet would not be wholly
accurate, for there was too much of past struggle and present anxiety
in his countenance to permit full expression of the natural dignity of
the features. It was a fine face and might have been distinctly noble,
but circumstances had marred the purpose of Nature; you perceived that
his cares had too often been of the kind which are created by ignoble
necessities, such as leave to most men of his standing a bare humanity
of visage. He had long thin white hair; his beard was short and merely
grizzled. In his left hand he carried a bundle, which probably
contained clothing.

The burial-ground by which he had paused was as little restful to the
eye as are most of those discoverable in the byways of London. The
small trees that grew about it shivered in their leaflessness; the rank
grass was wan under the failing day; most of the stones leaned this way
or that, emblems of neglect (they were very white at the top, and
darkened downwards till the damp soil made them black), and certain
cats and dogs were prowling or sporting among the graves. At this
corner the east wind blew with malice such as it never puts forth save
where there are poorly clad people to be pierced; it swept before it
thin clouds of unsavoury dust, mingled with the light refuse of the
streets. Above the shapeless houses night was signalling a murky
approach; the sky--if sky it could be called--gave threatening of
sleet, perchance of snow. And on every side was the rumble of traffic,
the voiceful evidence of toil and of poverty; hawkers were crying their
goods; the inevitable organ was clanging before a public-house hard by;
the crumpet-man was hastening along, with