My father’s family name was Pirrip, and my first name was Philip. However, as a very young child, I could not say these long names. The only word I could say was Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and soon everyone else called me Pip too.
I never knew my father or my mother because they died when I was a baby. Because there were no photographs in those days, I never found out what they looked like. I only knew them from their gravestones in the churchyard. Next to their graves, there were five small stones in a neat row. These were for my five little brothers, who also died very early in life.
We lived in the marsh country, a dark, flat area down by the river and the sea. One cold, grey afternoon, I was standing alone in the churchyard. I looked at the flat, wet land, the cold river, and the wild wind coming from the sea. Suddenly, I felt very small and lonely, and I began to cry.
"Be quiet!" shouted a terrible voice. Suddenly, a man jumped up from behind a grave. "Keep still, you little devil, or I’ll cut your throat!"
He was a terrifying man. He wore rough grey clothes, and he had a heavy iron chain around his leg. He had no hat, his shoes were broken, and an old piece of cloth was tied around his head. He was wet, covered in mud, and shaking from the cold. His teeth made a loud noise as he grabbed me by the chin.
"Oh! Please don’t cut my throat, sir!" I cried in terror.
"Tell me your name!" said the man. "Quick!"
"Pip, sir."
"Show me where you live," he said. "Point to the place!"
I pointed to our village. It was about a mile away from the church.
The man looked at me for a moment. Then, he turned me upside down and emptied my pockets. He only found a piece of bread. He was so strong that I felt dizzy. When I could finally see straight again, he had put me high up on a tombstone. I sat there shaking while he ate the bread like a hungry animal.
"Now look here!" said the man. "Where is your mother?"
"There, sir!" I said, pointing at the grave.
He jumped and looked over his shoulder in fear.
"That is my mother's grave," I explained quietly. "My father is there too."
"Ah," he said. "So who do you live with? If I let you live, of course."
"My sister, sir. Mrs. Joe Gargery. She is the wife of Joe Gargery, the blacksmith."
"Blacksmith, eh?" he said. He looked down at the heavy iron chain on his leg.
After looking at his leg and at me a few times, he came closer. He took me by both arms and pushed me back so I was almost falling off the tombstone. I was absolutely terrified.
"Now listen to me," he said. "You know what a file is? A metal tool for cutting?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you know what food is?"
"Yes, sir."
"You get me a file, and you get me some food," he ordered, pushing me back a little more each time. "Bring them both to me at the old wooden building on the marshes early tomorrow morning. If you do this, and if you never tell anyone about me, I will let you live. If you fail, I will tear out your heart and eat it!"
I was so dizzy that I had to hold on to him with both hands. But he went on with his terrible story.
"I am not alone," he said darkly. "There is a young man hiding with me. Compared to him, I am an angel. This young man has a secret way of finding boys. A boy can lock his door or hide in his warm bed, but that young man will look for him and find him. I am trying very hard to stop him from hurting you right now. But if you do not help me, I will let him find you. Do you understand?"
I quickly promised to get the file and the food. I promised to come to him early in the morning.
"Now go home!" he shouted.
"Good night, sir," I said nervously.
He let me go and hugged his own body to keep warm. He walked away slowly with a limp, stepping between the graves and over the low church wall. I watched him walking towards the dark river. He looked like a dead man coming out of the ground. When I saw him disappear into the dark marshes, I turned around and ran all the way home without stopping.