 37 Honorably accounts for Mr. Weller's absence by describing a soiree to which he was invited and went, also relates how he was entrusted by Mr. Pickwick with a private mission of delicacy and importance. Mr. Weller said, Mrs. Craddock, upon the morning of this very eventful day, here's a letter for you. Very odd that, said Sam. I'm afraid there must be something the matter, for I don't recollect any gentleman in my circle of acquaintance as is capable of writing one. Perhaps something in common has taken place, observed Mrs. Craddock. You must be something wary in common indeed, as could produce a letter out of any friend of mine, replied Sam, shaking his head dubiously. Nothing less than a natural convulsion, as the young gentleman observed, then he was took with fits. It can't be from the governor, said Sam, looking at the direction. He always prints, I know, because he learned writing from the large bills in the booking offices. It's a very strange thing now where this here letter can have come from. As Sam said this, he did what a great many people do when they are uncertain about the writer of a note. Looked at the seal, and then at the front, and then at the back, and then at the sides, and then at the superscription, and as a last resource, thought perhaps he might as well look at the inside and try to find out from that. It's wrote on gilt-edged paper, said Sam, as he unfolded it, and sealed in bronze backs at the top of a door key, now for it. And with a very grave face, Mr. Weller slowly read as follows. A select company of the Bath Footman presents their compliments to Mr. Weller, and requests the pleasure of his company this evening to a friendly Swarie, consisting of a boiled leg of mutton with the usual trimmings. The Swarie to be on table at half past nine o'clock punctually. This was enclosed in another note which ran thus. Mr. John Smalker, the gentleman who had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Weller at the house of their mutual acquaintance, Mr. Bantam, a few days since, begs to enclose Mr. Weller the herewith invitation. If Mr. Weller will call on Mr. John Smalker at nine o'clock, Mr. John Smalker will have the pleasure of introducing Mr. Weller. Signed, John Smalker. The envelope was directed to blank Weller Esquire at Mr. Pickwick's, and in a parenthesis in the left-hand corner were the words Arie Bell as an instruction to the bearer. Bell, said Sam. This is comin' at Rayther Powerful, this is. I never hear to buy a leg of mutton called a Swarie afore. I wonder what they'd call a roached one. However, without waiting to debate the point, Sam at once betook himself into the presence of Mr. Pickwick and requested leave of absence for that evening, which was readily granted. With this permission and the street door key, Sam Weller issued forth a little before the appointed time and strolled leisurely towards Queen Square, which he no sooner gained than he had the satisfaction of beholding Mr. John Smalker, leaning his powdered head against the lamppost at a short distance off, smoking a cigar through an amber tube. How do you do, Mr. Weller, said Mr. John Smalker, raising his hat gracefully with one hand, while he gently waved the other in a condescending manner. How do you do, sir? Why, reasonably conolescent, replied Sam, how do you find yourself, my dear fellow? Only so-so, said Mr. John Smalker. You've been a working too hard, observed Sam. I was fearful you would. It won't do, you know. You must not give way to that air uncompromising spirit of yours. It's not so much that, Mr. Weller, replied Mr. John Smalker, as bad wine. I'm afraid I've been dissipating. Oh, that's it, is it, said Sam. That's a very bad complaint that, and yet the temptation you see, Mr. Weller, observed Mr. John Smalker. To be sure, said Sam. Plunged into the very vortex of society, you know, Mr. Weller, said Mr. John Smalker, with a sigh. Dreadful indeed, rejoined Sam. But it's always the way, said Mr. John Smalker. If your destiny leads you into public life and public station, you must expect to be subjected to temptations which other people is free from, Mr. Weller. Precisely what my uncle said, when he ventured to the public line, remarked Sam, and where he write the old gentleman was, for he drank himself to death in something less than a quarter. Mr. John Smalker looked deeply indignant at any parallel being drawn between himself and the deceased gentleman in question. But as Sam's face was in the most immovable state of calmness, he thought better of it and looked affable again. Perhaps we had better be walking, said Mr. Smalker, consulting a copper timepiece which dwelt at the bottom of a deep watch pocket and was raised to the surface by means of a black string with a copper key at the other end. Perhaps we had, replied Sam, or they'll overdue the spiree and that'll spoil it. Have you drank the waters, Mr. Weller, inquired his companion as they walked towards High Street? Once, replied Sam. What did you think of them, sir? I thought that was particularly unpleasant, replied Sam. Ah, said Mr. John Smalker. You disliked the Calibut taste, perhaps? I don't know much about that air, said Sam. I thought that a very strong flavor or warm flat irons. That is the Calibut, Mr. Weller, observed Mr. John Smalker contemptuously. Well, if it is, it's a very inexpressive word, that's all, said Sam. It may be, but I ain't much in the clinical line myself, so I can't say. And here, to the great horror of Mr. John Smalker, Sam Weller began to whistle. I beg your pardon, Mr. Weller, said Mr. John Smalker, agonized at the exceeding, ungentile sound. Will you take my arm? Thank ye, you're very good, but I won't deprive you of it, replied Sam. I've rather a way of putting my hands in my pockets, if it's all the same to you. As Sam said this, he suited the action to the word and whistled far louder than before. This way, said his new friend, apparently much relieved as they turned down a by street. We shall soon be there. Shall we, said Sam, quite unmoved by the announcement of his close vicinity to the select footman of Bath? Yes, said Mr. John Smalker. Don't be alarmed, Mr. Weller. Oh, no, said Sam. You'll see some very handsome uniforms, Mr. Weller, continued Mr. John Smalker. And perhaps you'll find some of the gentlemen rather high at first, you know, but they'll soon come round. That's where we kind on them, replied Sam. And you know, resumed Mr. John Smalker, with an air of sublime protection, you know, as you're a stranger, perhaps they'll be rather hard upon you at first. They won't be very cruel, though, will they? inquired Sam. No, no, replied Mr. John Smalker, pulling forth the fox's head and taking a gentlemanly pinch. There are some funny dogs among us and they will have their joke, you know, but you mustn't mind them, you mustn't mind them. I'll try and bear up against such a regular knock down a talent, replied Sam. That's right, said Mr. John Smalker, putting forth his fox's head and elevating his own. I'll stand by you. By this time they had reached a small greengrocer's shop, which Mr. John Smalker entered, followed by Sam, who, the moment he got behind him, relapsed into a series of the very broadest and most unmitigated grins and manifested other demonstrations of being in a highly enviable state of inward merriment. Crossing the greengrocer's shop and putting their hats on the stairs in the little passage behind it, they walked into a small parlor and hear the full splendor of the scene burst upon Mr. Weller's view. A couple of tables were put together in the middle of the parlor, covered with three or four cloths of different ages and dates of washing, arranged to look as much like one as the circumstances of the case would allow. Upon these were laid knives and forks for six or eight people. Some of the knife handles were green, others red, and a few yellow. And as all the forks were black, the combination of colors was exceedingly striking. Plates for a corresponding number of guests were warming behind at the fender and the guests themselves were warming before it. The chief and most important of whom appeared to be a stoutish gentleman in a bright crimson coat with long tails, vividly red breeches, and a cocked hat who was standing with his back to the fire and had apparently just entered. For besides retaining his cocked hat on his head, he carried in his hand a high stick, such as gentlemen of his profession usually elevate in a sloping position over the roofs of carriages. Smocker, my lad, your fin, said the gentleman with the cocked hat. Mr. Smocker dovetailed the top joint of his right hand little finger into that of the gentleman with the cocked hat and said he was charmed to see him looking so well. Well, they tell me I am looking pretty blooming, said the man with the cocked hat, and it's a wonder too. I've been following our old woman about two hours a day for the last fortnight, and of a constant contemplation of the manner in which she hooks and eyes that infernal lavender-colored old gown of hers behind isn't enough to throw anybody into a low state of despondency for life, stop my quarter's salary. At this the assembled selections laughed very hardly, and one gentleman in a yellow waistcoat with a coach-trimming border whispered a neighbor in green foil s'malls that Tuckle was in spirits tonight. By the by, said Mr. Tuckle, smocker, my boy, you, the remainder of the sentence was forwarded into Mr. John Smocker's ear by whisper. Oh, dear me, I quite forgot, said Mr. John Smocker. Gentlemen, my friend Mr. Weller, sorry to keep the fire off you, Weller, said Mr. Tuckle with a familiar nod. Hope you're not cold, Weller. Not by no means, blazes, replied Sam. It'd be a very chilly subject as felt cold when you stood opposite. You'd save coals if they put you behind the fender in the waiting room at a public office, you would. As this retort appeared to convey rather a personal allusion to Mr. Tuckle's crimson livery, that gentleman looked majestic for a few seconds, but gradually edging away from the fire, broke into a forced smile and said it wasn't bad. Very much obliged for your good opinion, sir, replied Sam. We shall get on by degrees, I guess, say. We'll try a better one by and by. At this point the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a gentleman in orange-colored plush, accompanied by another selection in purple cloth, with a great extent of stocking. The newcomers, having been welcomed by the old ones, Mr. Tuckle put the question that supper be ordered in, which was carried unanimously. The green grocer and his wife then arranged upon the table a boiled leg of mutton, hot, with caper sauce, turnips, and potatoes. Mr. Tuckle took the chair and was supported at the other end of the board by the gentleman in orange plush. The green grocer put on a pair of wash leather gloves to hand the plates with and stationed himself behind Mr. Tuckle's chair. Harris, said Mr. Tuckle in a commanding tone. Sir, said the green grocer. Have you got your gloves on? Yes, sir. Then take the kiver off. Yes, sir. The green grocer did as he was told with a show of great humility and obsequiously handed Mr. Tuckle the carving knife, in doing which he accidentally gaped. What do you mean by that, sir? Said Mr. Tuckle with great disparity. I beg your pardon, sir, replied the crestfallen green grocer. I didn't mean to do it, sir. I was up very late last night, sir. I tell you what my opinion of you is, Harris, said Mr. Tuckle with the most impressive air. You're a vulgar beast. I hope, gentlemen, said Harris, that you won't be severe with me, gentlemen. I am very much obliged to you indeed, gentlemen, for your patronage and also for your recommendations, gentlemen, whenever additional assistance in waiting is required. I hope, gentlemen, I give satisfaction. No you don't, sir, said Mr. Tuckle. Very far from it, sir. We consider you an inattentive rascal, said the gentleman in the orange plush, and a low thief added the gentleman in the green foil smalls, and an unreclaimable legair added the gentleman in purple. The poor green grocer bowed very humbly while these little epithets were bestowed upon him in the true spirit of the very smallest tyranny. And when everybody had said something to show his superiority, Mr. Tuckle proceeded to carve the leg of mutton to help the company. This important business of the evening had hardly commenced when the door was thrown briskly open, and another gentleman in a light blue suit and leaden buttons made his appearance. Against the rules, said Mr. Tuckle, too late, too late. No, no, positively I couldn't help it, said the gentleman in blue. I appealed to the company, an affair of gallantry now, an appointment at the theater. Well, that indeed, said the gentleman in the orange plush. Yes, rally now on a brights of the man in blue, and made a promise to fetch our youngest daughter at half past 10, and she is such an uncommonly fine gal that a rally hadn't the art to disappoint her. No offense to the present company, sir, but a pedicat, sir, a pedicat, sir, is irrevocable. I begin to suspect there's something in that quarter, said Tuckle, as the newcomer took his seat next, Sam. I've remarked once or twice that she leans very heavy on your shoulder when she gets in and out of the carriage. Oh, rally, rally, Tuckle, you shouldn't, said the man in blue. It's not fair. I may have said to one or two friends that she was a very divine creature, and had refused one or two offers without any habbas' cause. But no, no, no, indeed, Tuckle, before strangers, too, it's not right, you shouldn't. Delicacy, my dear friend, delicacy. And the man in blue, pulling up his neckerchief and adjusting his coat cups, nodded and frowned as if there were more behind, which he could say if he liked, but was bound in honor to suppress. The man in blue, being a light-haired, stiff-necked, free and easy sort of footman, with a swaggering air and pert face, had attracted Mr. Weller's special attention at first. But when he began to come out in this way, Sam felt more than ever disposed to cultivate his acquaintance. So he launched himself into the conversation at once with characteristic independence. Your health, sir, said Sam. I like your conversation much. I think it's very pretty. At this the man in blue smiled, as if it were a compliment he was well used to, but looked approvingly on Sam at the same time, and said he hoped he should be better acquainted with him, for without any flattery at all he seemed to have the makings of a very nice fellow about him, and to be just the man after his own heart. You're very good, sir, said Sam. What a lucky fellow you are! How do you mean? inquired the gentleman in blue. That air young lady, replied Sam. She knows what's what, she does. Ah, I see. Mr. Weller closed one eye and shook his head from side to side in a manner which was highly gratifying to the personal vanity of the gentleman in blue. I'm afraid you're a cunning fellow, Mr. Weller, said that individual. No, no, said Sam, I leave all that air to you. It's a great deal more in your way than mine, as the gentleman on the right side of the garden voles said to the man on the wronging, than the mad bulb as a coming up the lane. Well, well, Mr. Weller, said the gentleman in blue. I think she has remarked my air and manner, Mr. Weller. I should think she couldn't very well be off of that, said Sam. Have you any little thing of that kind at hand, sir? inquired the favored gentleman in blue, drawing a toothpick from his waistcoat pocket. Not exactly, said Sam. There's no daughters at my place. Else, of course, I should have made up to Vannanam. As it is, I don't think I can do with anything under a female Marcus. I might keep up with the young woman a large property as handed a title if she made very fierce love to me, not else. Of course not, Mr. Weller, said the gentleman in blue. One can't be troubled, you know, and we know, Mr. Weller, we who are men of the world, that a good uniform must work its way with the women sooner or later. In fact, that's the only thing between you and me that makes the service worth entering into. Just so, said Sam. That's it, of course. When this confidential dialogue had gone thus far, glasses were placed round, and every gentleman ordered what he liked best before the public house shut up. The gentleman in blue and the man in orange, who were the chief exquisites of the party, ordered cold shrub and water, but with the other's gin and water sweet appeared to be the favorite beverage. Sam called the green grocer a desperate villain and ordered a large bowl of punch, two circumstances which seemed to raise him very much in the opinion of the selections. Gentlemen, said the man in blue, with an air of the most consummate dandyism, I'll give you the ladies, come. Here, here, said Sam, the young missuses. Here, there was a loud cry of order, and Mr. John Smocker, as the gentleman who had introduced Mr. Weller into that company, begged to inform him that the word he had just made use of was unparliamentary. Which word was that air, sir? inquired Sam. Missuses, sir, replied Mr. John Smocker, with an alarming frown. We don't recognize such distinctions here. Oh, very good, said Sam, then I'll amend the observation and call them the dear creeders, if blazes will allow me. Some doubt appeared to exist in the mind of the gentleman in the green foil smalls, whether the chairman could be legally appealed to as blazes. But as the company seemed more disposed to stand upon their own rights than his, the question was not raised. The man with the cocked hat breathed short and looked long at Sam, but apparently thought it as well to say nothing, in case he should get the worst of it. After a short silence, a gentleman in an embroidered coat reaching down to his heels and a waistcoat of the same, which kept one half of his legs warm, stirred his gin and water with great energy, and putting himself upon his feet all at once by a violent effort, said he was desirous of offering a few remarks to the company, whereupon the person in the cocked hat had no doubt that the company would be very happy to hear any remarks that the man in the long coat might wish to offer. I feel a great delicacy, gentlemen, in coming forward, said the man in the long coat, having the misfortune to be a coachman and being only admitted as an honorary member of these agreeable smarries. But I do feel myself bound, gentlemen, drove into a corner, if I may use the expression, to make known an afflicting circumstance which has come to my knowledge, which has happened, I may say, within the soap of my everyday contemplation. Gentlemen, our friend Mr. Whifers— everybody looked at the individual in orange— our friend Mr. Whifers has resigned. Universal astonishment fell upon the hearers. Each gentleman looked in his neighbor's face and then transferred his glance to the upstanding coachman. You may well be sapperized, gentlemen, said the coachman. I will not want you to state the reasons of this irreparable loss to the service, but I will beg Mr. Whifers to state them himself for the improvement and imitation of his admiring friends. The suggestion, being loudly approved of, Mr. Whifers explained. He said he certainly could have wished to have continued to hold the appointment he had just resigned. The uniform was extremely rich and expensive. The females of the family was most agreeable, and the duties of the situation was not, he was bound to say, too heavy. The principal service that was required of him being that he should look out of the hall window as much as possible in company with another gentleman who had also resigned. He could have wished to have spared that company the painful and disgusting detail on which he was about to enter. But as the explanation had been demanded of him, he had no alternative but to state boldly and distinctly that he had been required to eat cold meat. It is impossible to conceive the disgust which this avowal awakened in the bosoms of the hearers. Loud cries of shame, mingled with groans and hisses, prevailed for a quarter of an hour. Mr. Whifers then added that he feared a portion of this outrage might be traced to his own forebearing and accommodating disposition. He had a distinct recollection of having once consented to eat salt, butter, and he had, moreover, on an occasion of sudden sickness in the house, so far forgotten himself as to carry a coal-scuttle up to the second floor. He trusted he had not lowered himself in the good opinion of his friends by this frank confession of his faults, and he hoped the promptness with which he had resented the last unmanly outrage on his feelings to which he had referred would reinstate him in their good opinion if he had. Mr. Whifers's address was responded to with a shout of admiration, and the health of the interesting martyr was drunk in a most enthusiastic manner. For this, the martyr returned thanks and proposed their visitor, Mr. Weller, a gentleman whom he had not the pleasure of an intimate acquaintance with, but who was the friend of Mr. John Smalker, which was a sufficient letter of recommendation to any society of gentleman whatever or wherever. On this account he should have been disposed to have given Mr. Weller's health with all the honors if his friends had been drinking wine, but as they were taking spirits by way of a change, and as it might be inconvenient to empty a tumbler at every toast, he should propose that the honors be understood. At the conclusion of this speech everybody took a sip in honor of Sam, and Sam, having ladled out and drunk two full glasses of punch in honor of himself, returned thanks in a neat speech. Very much obliged to you, old fellers, said Sam, ladling away at the punch in the most unembarrassed manner possible. For this here compliment, which, coming from such a quarter, is wary over Belman. I've heard a good deal on you as a body, but I will say that I never thought you was such uncommon nice men as I find you air. I only hope you'll take care of yourselves and not compromise nothing of your dignity, which is a wary, charming thing to see when one's out of walking, and has always made me very happy to look at, ever since I was a boy about half as high as the brass-headed stick of my wary, respectable friend blazes there. As to the victim of oppression in the suit of brimstone, all I can say of him is that I hope he'll get just as good a berth as he deserves. In which case, it's wary little cold swary as ever he'll be troubled with again. Here Sam sat down with a pleasant smile, and his speech having been vociferously applauded, the company broke up. Why, you don't mean to say you were going, old feller, said Sam Weller, to his friend Mr. John Smokker. I must indeed, said Mr. Smokker, I promised, to spant him. Oh, very well, said Sam. That's another thing. Perhaps he'd resign if he'd disappointed him. You ain't a go on blazes. Yes, I am, said the man with the cocked hat. What? And leave three quarters of a bowl of punch behind you, said Sam, nonsense. Sit down again. Mr. Tuckle was not proof against this invitation. He laid aside the cocked hat and stick, which he had just taken up, and said he would have one glass for good fellowship's sake. As the gentleman in blue went home, the same way as Mr. Tuckle, he was prevailed upon to stop, too. When the punch was about half gone, Sam ordered in some oysters from the green grocer's shop, and the effect of both was so extremely exhilarating that Mr. Tuckle, dressed out with the cocked hat and stick, danced the frog horn pipe among the shells on the table, while the gentleman in blue played an accompaniment upon an ingenious musical instrument formed of a hair comb upon a curl paper. At last, when the punch was all gone and the night nearly so, they sallied forth to see each other home. Mr. Tuckle no sooner got into the open air than he was seized with a sudden desire to lie on the curb stone. Sam thought it would be a pity to contradict him, and so let him have his own way. As the cocked hat would have been spoiled if left there, Sam very considerably flattened it down on the head of the gentleman in blue, and putting the big stick in his hand, propped him up against his own street door, rang the bell, and walked quietly home. At a much earlier hour next morning than his usual time of rising, Mr. Pickwick walked downstairs completely dressed and rang the bell. Sam, said Mr. Pickwick, when Mr. Weller appeared in reply to the summons, shut the door. Mr. Weller did so. There was an unfortunate occurrence here last night, Sam, said Mr. Pickwick, which gave Mr. Winkle some cause to apprehend violence from Mr. Dowler. So I've heard from the old lady downstairs, sir, replied Sam. And I'm sorry to say, Sam, continued Mr. Pickwick, with the most perplexed countenance, that in dread of this violence, Mr. Winkle has gone away. Gone away, said Sam. Left the house early this morning without the slightest previous communication with me, replied Mr. Pickwick, and is gone, I know not where. He should have stopped and fought it out, sir, replied Sam contemptuously. It wouldn't take much to settle that air, Dowler, sir. Well, Sam, said Mr. Pickwick, I may have my doubts of his great bravery and determination also. But however that may be, Mr. Winkle is gone. He must be found, Sam, found and brought back to me. And suppose he won't come back, sir, said Sam. He must be made, Sam, said Mr. Pickwick. Who's to do it, sir? inquired Sam with a smile. You, replied Mr. Pickwick, Very good, sir. With these words, Mr. Weller left the room and immediately afterwards was heard to shut the street door. In two hours' time he returned with so much coolness as if he had been dispatched on the most ordinary message possible, and brought the information that an individual, in every respect answering Mr. Winkle's description, had gone over to Bristol that morning by the branch coach from the Royal Hotel. Sam, said Mr. Pickwick, grasping his hand, You're a capital fellow, an invaluable fellow. You must follow him, Sam. Certainly, sir, replied Mr. Weller. The instant you discover him, write to me immediately, Sam, said Mr. Pickwick. If he attempts to run away from you, knock him down or lock him up, you have my full authority, Sam. I'll be very careful, sir, rejoined Sam. You'll tell him, said Mr. Pickwick, that I am highly excited, highly displeased and naturally indignant at the very extraordinary course he has thought proper to pursue. I will, sir, replied Sam. You'll tell him, said Mr. Pickwick, that if he does not come back to this very house with you, he will come back with me, for I will come and fetch him. I'll mention that air, sir, rejoined Sam. You think you can find him, Sam, said Mr. Pickwick, looking earnestly in his face? Oh, I'll find him if he's anywhere. Rejoined Sam with great confidence. Very well, said Mr. Pickwick, then the sooner you go, the better. With these instructions, Mr. Pickwick placed a sum of money in the hands of his faithful servitor and ordered him to start for Bristol immediately in pursuit of the fugitive. Sam put a few necessaries in a carpet bag and was ready for starting. He stopped when he had got to the end of the passage and, walking quietly back, thrust his head in at the parlor door. Sir, whispered Sam. Well, Sam, said Mr. Pickwick, I fully understand my instructions. Do I, sir, inquired Sam? I hope so, said Mr. Pickwick. It's regularly understood about the knockin' down, is it, sir? inquired Sam. Perfectly, replied Pickwick, thoroughly, do what you think necessary, you have my orders. Sam, given not of intelligence, and withdrawing his head from the door, sat forth on his pilgrimage with a light heart. End of Chapter 37 Chapter 38 of the Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by Deborah Lynn, The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens. Chapter 38 How Mr. Winkle, when he stepped out of the frying pan, walked gently and comfortably into the fire. The ill-starred gentleman, who had been the unfortunate cause of the unusual noise and disturbance which alarmed the inhabitants of the royal crescent in manner and form already described, after passing a night of great confusion and anxiety, left the roof beneath which his friends still slumbered, bound he knew not wither. The excellent and considerate feelings which prompted Mr. Winkle to take this step can never be too highly appreciated or too warmly extolled. If, reasoned Mr. Winkle with himself, if this dowler attempts, as I have no doubt he will, to carry into execution his threat of personal violence against myself, it will be incumbent on me to call him out. He has a wife. That wife is attached to and dependent on him. Heavens! If I should kill him in the blindness of my wrath, what would be my feelings ever afterwards? This painful consideration operated so powerfully on the feelings of the humane young man as to cause his knees to knock together and his countenance to exhibit alarming manifestations of inward emotion. Impelled by such reflections, he grasped his carpet bag and, creeping stealthily downstairs, shut the detestable street door with as little noise as possible and walked off. Bending his steps towards the Royal Hotel, he found a coach on the point of starting for Bristol. And thinking Bristol is good a place for his purpose as any other he could go to, he mounted the box and reached his place of destination in such time as the pair of horses who went the whole stage and back again twice a day or more could be reasonably supposed to arrive there. He took up his quarters at the bush and, designing to postpone any communication by letter with Mr. Pickwick until it was probable that Mr. Dowler's wrath might have, in some degree, evaporated, walked forth to view the city, which struck him as being a shade more dirty than any place he had ever seen. Having inspected the docks and shipping and viewed the cathedral, he inquired his way to Clifton and, being directed thither, took the route which was pointed out to him. But as the pavements of Bristol are not the widest or cleanest upon earth, so its streets are not altogether the straightest or least intricate. And Mr. Winkle, being greatly puzzled by their manifold windings and twistings, looked about him for a decent shop in which he could apply a fresh for counsel and instruction. His eye fell upon a newly painted tenement which had been recently converted into something between a shop and a private house, and which a red lamp projecting over the fan light of the street door would have sufficiently announced as the residence of a medical practitioner, even if the word surgery had not been inscribed in golden characters on a wainscot ground above the window of what, in times bygone, had been the front parlor. Thinking this an eligible place wherein to make his inquiries, Mr. Winkle stepped into the little shop where the guilt-labeled drawers and bottles were, and finding nobody there, knocked with a half-crown on the counter to attract the attention of anybody who might happen to be in the back parlor, which he judged to be the innermost and peculiar sanctum of the establishment, from the repetition of the word surgery on the door, painted in white letters this time, by way of taking off the monotony. At the first knock a sound as of persons fencing with fire-irons which had until now been very audible, suddenly ceased. At the second a studious-looking young gentleman in green spectacles with a very large book in his hand glided quietly into the shop and, stepping behind the counter, requested to know the visitor's pleasure. I am sorry to trouble you, sir, said Mr. Winkle, but will you have the goodness to direct me to— ha, ha, ha! where the studious young gentleman throwing the large book up into the air and catching it with great dexterity at the very moment when it threatened to smash to Adams all the bottles on the counter, here's a start. There was, without doubt, for Mr. Winkle was so very much astonished at the extraordinary behavior of the medical gentleman that he involuntarily retreated towards the door and looked very much disturbed at his strange reception. What? Don't you know me, said the medical gentleman. Mr. Winkle murmured in reply that he had not that pleasure. Why, then, said the medical gentleman, there are hopes for me yet I may attend half the old women in Bristol if I have decent luck. Get out, you mouldy old villain, get out! With this adoration, which was addressed to the large book, the medical gentleman kicked the volume with remarkable agility to the farther end of the shop. And pulling off his green spectacles, grinned the identical grin of Robert Sawyer Esquire, formerly of Guy's Hospital in the Burrow, with the private residence in Lant Street. You don't mean to say you weren't down upon me, said Mr. Bob Sawyer, shaking Mr. Winkle's hand with friendly warmth? Upon my word I was not, replied Mr. Winkle, returning his pressure. I wonder you didn't see the name, said Bob Sawyer, calling his friend's attention to the outer door, on which, in the same white paint, retraced the words, Sawyer, late Nakamorf. It never caught my eye, returned Mr. Winkle. Lord, if I had known who you were, I should have rushed out and caught you in my arms, said Bob Sawyer. But upon my life I thought you were the king's taxes. No, said Mr. Winkle. I did indeed, responded Bob Sawyer, and I was just going to say that I wasn't at home. But if you'd leave a message, I'd be sure to give it to myself. For he don't know me. No more does the lighting and paving. I think the church raids guesses who I am, and I know the waterworks does, because I drew a tooth of his when I first came down here. But come in, come in. Chattering in this way Mr. Bob Sawyer pushed Mr. Winkle into the back room, where, amusing himself by boring little circular caverns in the chimneypiece with a red-hot poker, sat no less a person than Mr. Benjamin Allen. Well, said Mr. Winkle, this is indeed a pleasure I did not expect. What a very nice place you have here. Pretty well, pretty well, replied Bob Sawyer. I passed, soon after that precious party, and my friends came down with the needful for this business. So I put on a black suit of clothes and a pair of spectacles, and came here to look as solemn as I could. And a very snug little business you have, no doubt, said Mr. Winkle, knowingly. Very, replied Bob Sawyer, so snug that at the end of a few years you might put all the profits in a wine glass and cover them over with a gooseberry leaf. You cannot surely mean that, said Mr. Winkle. The stock itself dummies, my dear boy, said Bob Sawyer. Half the drawers have nothing in them, and the other half don't open. Nonsense, said Mr. Winkle. Fact, honor, returned Bob Sawyer, stepping out into the shop and demonstrating the veracity of the assertion by diverse hard pulls at the little guilt knobs on the counterfeit drawers. Hardly anything real in the shop but the leeches. And there, secondhand, I shouldn't have thought it, exclaimed Mr. Winkle, much surprised. I hope not, replied Bob Sawyer. Elsewhere's the use of appearances, eh? But what will you take? Do as we do? That's right, Ben, my fine fellow. Put your hand into the cupboard and bring out the patent digester. Mr. Benjamin Allen smiled his readiness, and produced from the closet at his elbow a black bottle half full of brandy. You don't take water, of course, said Bob Sawyer. Thank you, replied Mr. Winkle. It's rather early. I should like to qualify it if you have no objection. None in the least, if you can reconcile it to your conscience, replied Bob Sawyer, tossing off as he spoke a glass of the liquor with great relish. Bend the pipkin. Mr. Benjamin Allen drew forth from the same hiding place a small brass pipkin, which Bob Sawyer observed he prided himself upon, particularly because it looked so business-like. The water and the professional pipkin having been made to boil, in course of time, by various little shovelfuls of coal, which Mr. Bob Sawyer took out of a practicable window seat labeled soda water. Mr. Winkle adulterated his brandy, and the conversation was becoming general when it was interrupted by the entrance into the shop of a boy in a sober gray livery and a gold-laced hat with a small cupboard basket under his arm, whom Mr. Bob Sawyer immediately hailed with, Tom, you vagabond, come here! The boy presented himself accordingly. You've been stopping to over all the posts in Bristol, you idle young scamp, said Mr. Bob Sawyer. No, sir, I haven't, replied the boy. You had better not, said Mr. Bob Sawyer, with a threatening aspect. Who do you suppose will ever employ a professional man when they see his boy playing at marbles in the gutter or flying the garter in the horse-road? Have you no feeling for your profession, you groveler? Did you leave all the medicine? Yes, sir. The powders for the child at the large house with the new family and the pills to be taken four times a day at the ill-tempered old gentlemen's with the gouty leg? Yes, sir. Then shut the door and mind the shop. Come, said Mr. Winkle, as the boy retired, things are not quite so bad as you would have me believe, either. There is some medicine to be sent out. Mr. Bob Sawyer peeped into the shop to see that no stranger was within hearing and leaning forward to Mr. Winkle said, in a low tone, he leaves it all at the wrong houses. Mr. Winkle looked perplexed, and Bob Sawyer and his friend laughed. Don't you see, said Bob. He goes up to a house, rings the area bell, pokes a packet of medicine without a direction into the servant's hand, and walks off. Servant takes it into the dining parlor, master opens it and reads the label, draft to be taken at bedtime, pills as before, lotion as usual, the powder from Sawyer's late Nakamors. Positions, prescriptions carefully prepared, and all the rest of it. Shows it to his wife. She reads the label. It goes down to the servants. They read the label. Next day, boy calls, very sorry, his mistake, events, business, great many parcels, to deliver Mr. Sawyer's compliments, late Nakamorf. The name gets known, and that's the thing, my boy, in the medical way. Lest your heart, old fellow, it's better than all the advertising in the world, we have got one four-ounce bottle that's been to half the houses in Bristol and hasn't done yet. Dear me, I see, observed Mr. Winkle, what an excellent plan. Oh, Ben and I have hit upon a dozen sots, replied Bob Sawyer with great glee. The lamp lighter has eighteen pence a week to pull the night bell for ten minutes every time he comes round. And my boy always rushes into the church, just before the psalms, when the people have got nothing to do but look about them, and calls me out with horror and dismay, depicted on his countenance. Bless my soul, everybody says, somebody taken suddenly ill. Sawyer, late Nakamorf, sent for. What a business that young man has. At the termination of this disclosure of some of the mysteries of medicine, Mr. Bob Sawyer and his friend Ben Allen threw themselves back in their respective chairs and laughed boisterously. When they had enjoyed the joke to their heart's content, the discourse changed to topics in which Mr. Winkle was more immediately interested. We think we have hinted elsewhere that Mr. Benjamin Allen had a way of becoming sentimental after Brandy. The case is not a peculiar one, as we ourselves can testify, having, on a few occasions, had to deal with patients who have been afflicted in a similar manner. At this precise period of his existence, Mr. Benjamin Allen had perhaps a greater predisposition to maudlinism than he had ever known before, the cause of which Malady was briefly this. He had been staying nearly three weeks with Mr. Bob Sawyer. Mr. Bob Sawyer was not remarkable for temperance, nor was Mr. Benjamin Allen for the ownership of a very strong head. The consequence was that during the whole space of time just mentioned, Mr. Benjamin Allen had been wavering between intoxication partial and intoxication complete. My dear friend, said Mr. Ben Allen, taking advantage of Mr. Bob Sawyer's temporary absence behind the counter, whether he had retired to dispense some of the second-hand leeches, previously referred to. My dear friend, I am very miserable. Mr. Winkle professed his heartfelt regret to hear it, and begged to know whether he could do anything to alleviate the sorrows of the suffering student. Nothing, my dear boy, nothing, said Ben. You recollect Arabella, Winkle? My sister Arabella? A little girl, Winkle, with black eyes when we were down at Wardles? I don't know whether you happened to notice her. A nice little girl, Winkle? Perhaps my features may recall her countenance to your recollection. Mr. Winkle required nothing to recall the charming Arabella to his mind, and it was rather fortunate he did not, for the features of her brother Benjamin would unquestionably have proved but an indifferent refresher to his memory. He answered, with as much calmness as he could assume, that he perfectly remembered the young lady referred to, and sincerely trusted she was in good health. Our friend Bob is a delightful fellow, Winkle, was the only reply of Mr. Ben Allen. Very, said Mr. Winkle, not much relishing this close connection of the two names. I designed them for each other. They were made for each other, sent into the world for each other, born for each other, Winkle, said Mr. Ben Allen, setting down his glass with emphasis. There's a special destiny in the matter, my dear sir. There's only five years difference between them, and both their birthdays are in August. Mr. Winkle was too anxious to hear what was to follow, to express much wonderment at this extraordinary coincidence, marvelous as it was. So Mr. Ben Allen, after a tear or two, went on to say that notwithstanding all his esteem and respect and veneration for his friend, Arabella had unaccountably and undutifully evens the most determined antipathy to his person. And I think, said Mr. Ben Allen, in conclusion, I think there's a prior attachment. Have you any idea who the object of it might be? asked Mr. Winkle with great trepidation. Mr. Ben Allen seized the poker, flourished it in a warlike manner above his head, inflicted a savage blow on an imaginary skull, and wound up by saying in a very expressive manner that he only wished he could guess that was all. I'd show him what I thought of him, said Mr. Ben Allen, and round went the poker again more fiercely than before. All this was, of course, very soothing to the feelings of Mr. Winkle, who remained silent for a few minutes, but at length mustered up resolution to inquire whether Miss Allen was in Kent. No, no, said Mr. Ben Allen, laying aside the poker and looking very cunning. I didn't think Wardle's exactly the place for a headstrong girl, so, as I am her natural protector and guardian, our parents being dead, I have brought her down into this part of the country to spend a few months at an old ants in a nice dull, close place. I think that will cure her, my boy. If it doesn't, I'll take her abroad for a little while and see what that'll do. Oh, the ants is in Bristol, is it? faltered Mr. Winkle. No, no, not in Bristol, replied Mr. Ben Allen, jerking his thumb over his right shoulder, over that way, down there. But hush, here's Bob, not a word, my dear friend, not a word. Short as this conversation was, it browsed in Mr. Winkle the highest degree of excitement and anxiety. The suspected prior attachment rankled in his heart. Could he be the object of it? Could it be for him that the fair Arabella had looked scornfully on the sprightly Bob Sawyer, or had he a successful rival? He determined to see her, cost but it might. But here an insurmountable objection presented itself. For whether the explanatory over that way and down there of Mr. Ben Allen meant three miles off or thirty or three hundred, he couldn't know wise guess. But he had no opportunity of pondering over his love just then, for Bob Sawyer's return was the immediate precursor of the arrival of a meat pie from the bakers, of which that gentleman insisted on his staying to partake. The cloth was laid by an occasional charwoman who officiated in the capacity of Mr. Bob Sawyer's housekeeper. And a third knife and fork having been borrowed from the mother of the boy in the gray livery, for Mr. Sawyer's domestic arrangements were as yet conducted on a limited scale, they sat down to dinner. The beer being served up, as Mr. Sawyer remarked, in its native pewter. After dinner Mr. Bob Sawyer ordered in the largest mortar in the shop and proceeded to brew a reeking jarum of rum punch therein, stirring up and amalgamating the materials with a pestle in a very creditable and apothecary like manner. Mr. Sawyer, being a bachelor, had only one tumbler in the house, which was assigned to Mr. Winkle as a compliment to the visitor. Mr. Ben Allen being accommodated with a funnel with a cork in the narrow end, and Bob Sawyer contended himself with one of those wide-lipped crystal vessels inscribed with a variety of cabalistic characters in which chemists are want to measure out their liquid drugs in compounding prescriptions. These preliminaries adjusted, the punch was tasted and pronounced excellent, and, it having been arranged that Bob Sawyer and Ben Allen should be considered at liberty to fill twice to Mr. Winkle's once, they started fair with great satisfaction and good fellowship. There was no singing because Mr. Bob Sawyer said it wouldn't look professional, but to make amends for this deprivation there was so much talking and laughing that it might have been heard, and very likely was, at the end of the street. Which conversation materially lightened the hours and improved the mind of Mr. Bob Sawyer's boy, who instead of devoting the evening to his ordinary occupation of writing his name on the counter and rubbing it out again, peeped through the glass door and thus listened and looked on at the same time. The mirth of Mr. Bob Sawyer was rapidly ripening into the furious. Mr. Ben Allen was fast relapsing into the sentimental, and the punch had well-nigh disappeared altogether, when the boy hastily running in announced that a young woman had just come over to say that Sawyer, late Nakamorf, was wanted directly, a couple of streets off. This broke up the party. Mr. Bob Sawyer, understanding the message, after some twenty repetitions, tied a wet cloth round his head to sober himself, and having partially succeeded, put on his green spectacles and issued forth. Resisting all entreaties to stay till he came back, and finding it quite impossible to engage Mr. Ben Allen in any intelligible conversation on the subject nearest his heart, or indeed on any other, Mr. Winkle took his departure and returned to the bush. The anxiety of his mind and the numerous meditations which Arabella had awakened prevented his share of the mortar of punch producing that effect upon him which it would have had under other circumstances. So after taking a glass of soda water and brandy at the bar, he turned into the coffee room, dispirited rather than elevated by the occurrences of the evening. Sitting in front of the fire with his back towards him was a tallest gentleman in a great coat, the only other occupant of the room. It was rather a cool evening for the season of the year, and the gentleman drew his chair aside to afford the newcomer a sight of the fire. What were Mr. Winkle's feelings when, in doing so, he disclosed to view the face and figure of the vindictive and sanguinary dowler. Mr. Winkle's first impulse was to give a violent pull at the nearest bell handle, but that, unfortunately, happened to be immediately behind Mr. Dowler's head. He had made one step towards it before he checked himself. As he did so, Mr. Dowler very hastily drew back. Mr. Winkle, sir, be calm. Don't strike me. I won't bear it. A blow? Never, said Mr. Dowler, looking meeker than Mr. Winkle had expected in a gentleman of his ferocity. A blow, sir, stammered Mr. Winkle. A blow, sir, replied Dowler. Compose your feelings. Sit down. Hear me. Sir, said Mr. Winkle, trembling from head to foot. Before I consent to sit down, beside or opposite you, without the presence of a waiter, I must be secured by some further understanding. You used the threat against me last night, sir. A dreadful threat, sir. Here Mr. Winkle turned very pale indeed and stopped short. I did, said Dowler, with a countenance almost as white as Mr. Winkle's. Circumstances were suspicious. They have been explained. I respect your bravery. Your feeling is upright. Conscious innocence. There's my hand. Grasp it. Really, sir, said Mr. Winkle, hesitating whether to give his hand or not, and almost fearing that it was demanded in order that he might be taken at an advantage. Really, sir, I know what you mean, interposed Dowler. You feel aggrieved. Very natural, so should I. I was wrong. I beg your pardon. Be friendly. Forgive me. With this, Dowler fairly forced his hand upon Mr. Winkle, and shaking it with the utmost vehemence, declared he was a fellow of extreme spirit, and he had a higher opinion of him than ever. Now, said Dowler, sit down. Related all. How did you find me? When did you follow? Be frank. Tell me. It's quite accidental, replied Mr. Winkle, greatly perplexed by the curious and unexpected nature of the interview. Quite. Glad of it, said Dowler. I woke this morning. I had forgotten my threat. I laughed at the accident. I felt friendly. I said so. To whom, inquired Mr. Winkle? To Mrs. Dowler. You made a vow, said she. I did, said I. It was a rash one, said she. It was, said I. I'll apologize. Where is he? Who, inquired Mr. Winkle? You, replied Dowler, I went downstairs. You were not to be found. Pickwick looked gloomy, shook his head, hoped no violence would be committed. I saw it all. You felt yourself insulted. You had gone for a friend, perhaps. Possibly for pistols. High spirit, said I. I admire him. Mr. Winkle coughed, and, beginning to see how the land lay, assumed a look of importance. I left a note for you, resumed Dowler. I said I was sorry, so I was. Pressing business called me here. You were not satisfied. You followed. You required a verbal explanation. You were right. It's all over now. My business is finished. I go back tomorrow. Join me. As Dowler progressed in his explanation, Mr. Winkle's countenance grew more and more dignified. The mysterious nature of the commencement of their conversation was explained. Mr. Dowler had as great an objection to dueling as himself. In short, this blustering and awful personage was one of the most egregious cowards in existence, and interpreting Mr. Winkle's absence through the medium of his own fears had taken the same step as himself, and prudently retired until all excitement of feeling should have subsided. As the real state of the case dawned upon Mr. Winkle's mind, he looked very terrible, and said he was perfectly satisfied, but at the same time said so with an air that left Mr. Dowler no alternative but to infer that if he had not been something most horrible and destructive must inevitably have occurred. Mr. Dowler appeared to be impressed with the becoming sense of Mr. Winkle's magnanimity and condescension, and the two belligerents parted for the night with many protestations of eternal friendship. About half past twelve o'clock, when Mr. Winkle had been reveling, some twenty minutes in the full luxury of his first sleep, he was suddenly awakened by a loud knocking at his chamber door, which, being repeated with increased vehemence, caused him to start up in bed and inquire who was there and what the matter was. Please, sir, here's a young man which says he must see you directly," responded the voice of the chambermaid. A young man, exclaimed Mr. Winkle, no mistake about that air, sir, replied another voice to the keyhole, and if that were his same interest in young Kreeter ain't let in without delay, it's very possible as his legs will enter for his countenance. The young man give a gentle kick at one of the lower panels of the door, after he had given utterance to this hint, as if to add force and point to the remark. Is that you, Sam? inquired Mr. Winkle, springing out of bed. Quite unpossible to identify any gentleman with any degree of mental satisfaction without looking at him, sir, replied the voice dogmatically. Mr. Winkle, not much doubting who the young man was, unlocked the door, which he had no sooner done than Mr. Samuel Weller entered with great precipitation, and carefully relocking it on the inside, deliberately put the key in his waistcoat pocket, and after surveying Mr. Winkle from head to foot said, You're a very humorous young gentleman, you air, sir. What do you mean by this conduct, Sam? inquired Mr. Winkle indignantly. Get out, sir, this instant. What do you mean, sir? What do I mean? retorted Sam. Come, sir, this is rather too rich, as the young lady said, when she remonstrated with the pastry cook, ardor he'd sold her a pork pie, as it got nothing but fat inside. What do I mean? Well, that ain't a bed, and that ain't. Unlock that door and leave this room immediately, sir, said Mr. Winkle. I shall leave this here room, sir, just precisely at the very same moment as you leaves it, responded Sam, speaking in a forcible manner and seating himself with perfect gravity. If I find it necessary to carry you away, pick a back, of course I shall leave it the least bit of time possible for you, but allow me to express a hope as you won't reduce me to extremities. In saying which I merely quote what the nobleman said to the fractious penny-winkle, then he wouldn't come out of his shell by means of a pin, and he consequently began to be afeard that he should be obliged to crack him in the parlor door. At the end of this address, which was unusually lengthy for him, Mr. Weller planted his hands on his knees and looked full in Mr. Winkle's face, with an expression of countenance which showed that he had not the remotest intention of being trifled with. You're a amiably disposed young man, sir, I don't think, resumed Mr. Weller in a tone of moral reproof, to go involving our precious governor in all sorts of fan-tigs when he's made up his mind to go through everything for principle. You're far worse than our Dodson, sir, and as for Fogg I consider him a born angel to you. Mr. Weller, having accompanied this last sentiment with an emphatic slap on each knee, folded his arms with a look of great disgust and threw himself back in his chair as if awaiting the criminal's defense. My good fellow, said Mr. Winkle, extending his hand, his teeth chattering all the time he spoke, for he had been standing during the whole of Mr. Weller's lecture in his night gear. My good fellow, I respect your attachment to my excellent friend, and I am very sorry indeed to have added to his causes for disquiet. There, Sam, there! Well, said Sam, rather sulkily, but giving the proffered hand a respectful shake at the same time. Well, so you ought to be, and I am very glad to find you here, for if I can help it, I won't have him put upon by nobody, and that's all about it. Certainly not, Sam, said Mr. Winkle. There, now go to bed, Sam, and we'll talk further about this in the morning. I'm very sorry, said Sam, but I can't go to bed. Not go to bed, repeated Mr. Winkle. No, said Sam, shaking his head. Can't be done. You don't mean to say you're going back tonight, Sam, urged Mr. Winkle, greatly surprised. Not unless you particularly wish it, replied Sam. But I mustn't leave this here room. The Governor's orders was peremptory. Nonsense, Sam, said Mr. Winkle. I must stop here two or three days, and more than that, Sam, you must stop here two to assist me in gaining an interview with a young lady. Miss Allen, Sam, you remember her, whom I must and will see before I leave Bristol. But in reply to each of these positions, Sam shook his head with great firmness, and energetically replied, It can't be done. After a great deal of argument and representation on the part of Mr. Winkle, however, and a full disclosure of what had passed in the interview with Dollar, Sam began to waver, and at length the compromise was affected, of which the following were the main and principal conditions. That Sam should retire and leave Mr. Winkle in the undisturbed possession of his apartment on the condition that he had permission to lock the door in the outside and carry off the key, provided always that in the event of an alarm of fire or other dangerous contingency the door should be instantly unlocked, that a letter should be written to Mr. Pickwick early next morning and forwarded per Dollar, requesting his consent to Sam and Mr. Winkle's remaining at Bristol, for the purpose and with the object already assigned, and begging an answer by the next coach. If favourable, the aforesaid parties to remain accordingly, and if not, to return to Bath immediately on the receipt thereof. And lastly, that Mr. Winkle should be understood as distinctly pledging himself not to resort to the window, fireplace, or other surreptitious mode of escape in the meanwhile. These stipulations having been concluded, Sam locked the door and departed. He had nearly got downstairs when he stopped and drew the key from his pocket. I quite forgot about the knockin' down, said Sam, half turning back. The Governor distinctly said it was to be done. Amazing, stupid of me that air. Never mind, said Sam, brightening up, it's easily done to-morrow, anyways. Apparently much consoled by this reflection, Mr. Weller once more deposited the key in his pocket, and descending the remainder of the stairs without any fresh visitations of conscience, was soon, in common with the other inmates of the house, buried in profound repose. End of CHAPTER XXXVIII During the whole of next day, Sam kept Mr. Winkle steadily in sight, fully determined not to take his eyes off him for one instant until he should receive express instructions from the fountain-head. However disagreeable, Sam's very close watch and great vigilance were to Mr. Winkle. He thought it better to bear with them than by any act of violent opposition to hazard being carried away by force, which Mr. Weller, more than once strongly hinted, was the line of conduct that a strict sense of duty prompted him to pursue. There is little reason to doubt that Sam Wood, very speedily, have quieted his scruples by bearing Mr. Winkle back to bath, bound hand and foot, had not Mr. Pickwick's prompt attention to the note which Dowler had undertaken to deliver, forestalled any such proceeding. In short, at eight o'clock in the evening, Mr. Pickwick himself walked into the coffee room of the bush-tabern, and told Sam with a smile, to his very great relief, that he had done quite right, and it was unnecessary for him to mount guard any longer. I thought it better to come myself, said Mr. Pickwick, addressing Mr. Winkle as Sam disencumbered him of his great coat and traveling shawl, to ascertain, before I gave my consent to Sam's employment in this matter, that you were quite in earnest and serious with respect to this young lady. Serious, from my heart, from my soul, returned Mr. Winkle with great energy. Remember, said Mr. Pickwick with beaming eyes, we met her at our excellent and hospitable friends, Winkle. It would be an ill return to tamper lightly and without due consideration with this young lady's affections. I'll not allow that, sir, I'll not allow it. I have no such intention indeed, exclaimed Mr. Winkle warmly. I have considered the matter well for a long time, and I feel that my happiness is bound up in her. That's what we call tying it up in a small parcel, sir, interposed Mr. Weller with an agreeable smile. Mr. Winkle looked somewhat stern at this interruption, and Mr. Pickwick angrily requested his attendant not to jest with one of the best feelings of our nature, to which Sam replied that he wouldn't if he was aware in it, but there were so many on him that he hardly know'd which was the best ones when he here to mention'd. Mr. Winkle then recounted what had passed between himself and Mr. Ben Allen, relative to Arabella, stated that his object was to gain an interview with the young lady and make a formal disclosure of his passion, and declared his conviction, founded on certain dark hints and mutterings of the aforesaid Ben, that wherever she was at present immured it was somewhere near the Downs, and this was his whole stock of knowledge or suspicion on the subject. With this very slight clue to guide him, it was determined that Mr. Weller should start next morning at an expedition of discovery. It was also arranged that Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Winkle, who were less confident of their powers, should parade the town meanwhile, and accidentally drop in upon Mr. Bob Sawyer in the course of the day in the hope of seeing or hearing something of the young lady's whereabouts. Accordingly next morning Sam Weller issued forth upon his quest, in no way daunted by the very discouraging prospect before him, and away he walked, up one street and down another. We were going to say up one hill and down another, only it's all uphill at Clifton. Without meeting with anything or anybody that tended to throw the faintest light on the matter in hand. Many were the colloquies into which Sam entered, with grooms who were airing horses on roads, and nursemaids who were airing children in lanes, but nothing could samolicit from either the first mentioned or the last, which bore the slightest reference to the object of his artfully prosecuted inquiries. There were a great many young ladies in a great many houses. The greater part were of were shrewdly suspected by the male and female domestics to be deeply attached to somebody or perfectly ready to become so if opportunity afforded. But as none among these young ladies was Ms. Arabella Allen, the information left Sam at exactly the old point of wisdom at which he had stood before. Sam struggled across the downs against a good high wind, wondering whether it was always necessary to hold your head on with both hands in that part of the country, and came to a shady by-place about which were sprinkled several little villas of quiet and secluded appearance. Outside a stable door at the bottom of a long back lane without a thoroughfare, a groom in undress was idling about, apparently persuading himself that he was doing something with a spade and a wheelbarrow. We may remark in this place that we have scarcely ever seen a groom near a stable in his lazy moments who has not been to a greater or less extent the victim of this singular delusion. Sam thought he might as well talk to this groom as to anyone else, especially as he was very tired with walking, and there was a good large stone just opposite the wheelbarrow. So he strolled down the lane, and seating himself on the stone, opened a conversation with the ease and freedom for which he was remarkable. Mornin' old friend, said Sam. Ardenoon, you mean, replied the groom, casting a surly look at Sam. You're very right, old friend, said Sam, I do mean Ardenoon. How are you? Why, I don't find myself much the better for seeing of you, replied the ill-tempered groom. That's weary odd, that is, said Sam, for you look so uncommon, cheerful, and seem altogether so lively that it does one's heart good to see you. The surly groom looked surlier still at this, but not sufficiently so to produce any effect upon Sam, who immediately inquired with the countenance of great anxiety whether his master's name was not Walker. Know what ain't, said the groom. Nor Brown, I suppose, said Sam. Know what ain't, nor Vilsen. Know, nor that either, said the groom. Val, replied Sam, that I'm mistaken, and he hasn't got the honor of my acquaintance, which I thought he had. Don't wait here out a compliment to me, said Sam, as the groom wheeled in the barrow and prepared to shut the gate. He is a forced ceremony, old boy, I'll excuse you. I'd knock your head off for half a crown, said the surly groom, bolting one half of the gate. Couldn't afford to have it done on those terms, rejoined Sam. It'd be worth a life's board wages at least to you, and it'd be cheap at that. Make my compliments indoors, tell him not to wait dinner for me, and say they needn't mind puttin' any by, for it'll be cold before I come in. And reply to this, the groom, waxing very wroth, muttered a desire to damage somebody's person, but disappeared without carrying it into execution, slamming the door angrily after him, and wholly unheeding Sam's affectionate request that he would leave him a lock of his hair before he went. Sam continued to sit on the large stone, meditating upon what was best to be done, and revolving in his mind a plan for knocking at all the doors within five miles of crystal, taking them at a hundred and fifty or two hundred a day, and endeavoring to find Miss Arabella by that expedient, when accident all of a sudden threw in his way what he might have sat there for a twelve month and yet not found without it. Into the lane where he sat there opened three or four garden gates, belonging to as many houses, which, though detached from each other, were only separated by their gardens. As these were large and long and well-planted with trees, the houses were not only at some distance off, but the greater part of them were nearly concealed from view. Sam was sitting with his eyes fixed upon the dust heap outside the next gate to that by which the groom had disappeared, profoundly turning over in his mind the difficulties of his present undertaking, when the gate opened and a female servant came out into the lane to shake some bedside carpets. Sam was so very busy with his own thoughts that it is probable he would have taken no more notice of the young woman than just raising his head and remarking that she had a very neat and pretty figure, if his feelings of gallantry had not been most strongly roused by observing that she had no one to help her, and that the carpets seemed too heavy for her single strength. Mr. Weller was a gentleman of great gallantry in his own way, and he no sooner remarked this circumstance than he hastily rose from the large stone and advanced towards her. "'My dear,' said Sam, sliding up with an air of great respect, "'you'll smile that way a pretty figure out of all proportion if you shake them carpets by yourself. Let me help you.' The young lady, who had been coyly affecting not to know that a gentleman was so near, turned round as Sam spoke. No doubt—indeed, she said so afterwards—to decline this offer from a perfect stranger. When instead of speaking she started back and uttered a half-suppressed scream. Sam was scarcely less staggered. For in the countenance of the well-shaped female servant he beheld the very features of his valentine, the pretty house made from Mr. Knopkins's. "'Well, very, my dear,' said Sam. "'Lock, Mr. Weller,' said Mary, how you do frighten one.' Sam made no verbal answer to this complaint. Nor can we precisely say what reply he did make. We merely know that after a short pause Mary said, "'Lore, do a done, Mr. Weller.' And that his hat had fallen off a few moments before, from both of which tokens we should be disposed to infer that one kiss or more had passed between the parties. "'Well, how did you come here?' said Mary, when the conversation to which this interruption had been offered was resumed. "'Of course I came to look out of you, my darling,' replied Mr. Weller, for once permitting his passion to get the better of his veracity. "'And how did you know I was here?' inquired Mary. "'Who could have told you that I took another service at Ipswich and that they afterwards moved all the way here? Who could have told you that, Mr. Weller?' "'Ah, to be sure,' said Sam, with a cunning look. "'That's the pint. Who could have told me?' "'It wasn't Mr. Muzzle, was it?' inquired Mary. "'Oh, no,' replied Sam, with a solemn shake of the head, "'it weren't him. "'It must have been the cook,' said Mary. "'Of course it must,' said Sam. "'Well, I never heard the like of that,' exclaimed Mary. "'No more did I,' said Sam. "'But Mary, my dear, here Sam's manner "'grew extremely affectionate. "'Mary, my dear, I've got another affair in hand "'as is very pressing. "'There's one of my governor's friends, Mr. Winkle. "'You remember him?' "'Him in the green coat,' said Mary. "'Oh, yes, I remember him.' "'Well,' said Sam, he's in a horrid state of love, "'regularly confuseled and done over with it.' "'Lore,' interposed Mary. "'Yes,' said Sam. "'But that's nothing if we could find out the young omen. "'And here, Sam, with many digressions "'upon the personal beauty of Mary "'and the unspeakable tortures he had experienced "'since he last saw her, gave a faithful account "'of Mr. Winkle's present predicament.' "'Well,' said Mary, "'I never did.' "'Of course not,' said Sam. "'And nobody never did, nor never will, neither. "'And here am I, a walkin' about like the wandering Jew, "'a sport and character you have perhaps heard on, "'Mary, my dear, as was always doin' a match again time "'and never vent to sleep, "'looking out of this here Miss Arabella Allen. "'Miss Who?' said Mary in great astonishment. "'Miss Arabella Allen,' said Sam. "'Goodness gracious,' said Mary, "'pointing to the garden door "'which the sulky groom had locked after him. "'Why, it's that very house. "'She's been living there these six weeks. "'Their upper housemaid, which his ladies made, too, "'told me all about it over the wash-house palins "'before the family was out of bed one morning. "'What? "'The very next door to you,' said Sam. "'The very next,' replied Mary. "'Mr. Weller was so deeply overcome "'on receiving this intelligence "'that he found it absolutely necessary "'to cling to his fair informant for support, "'and diverse little love passages had passed between them "'before he was sufficiently collected "'to return to the subject.' "'Well,' said Sam at length, "'if this don't beat cock-fightin' "'nothin' never will,' as the Lord Mayor said, "'than the Chief Secretary of State, "'proposed as Mrs. His Health, "'artored dinner, that very next house. "'Why, I've got a message to her "'as I've been a trying all day to deliver.' "'Ah,' said Mary, "'but you can't deliver it now, "'because she only walks in the garden in the evening, "'and then, only for a very little time, "'she never goes out without the old lady.' "'Sam ruminated for a few moments "'and finally hit upon the following plan of operations, "'that he should return just at dusk, "'the time at which Arabella invariably took her walk. "'And being admitted by Mary into the garden of the house "'to which she belonged, "'would contrive to scramble up the wall "'beneath the overhanging boughs of a large pear-tree, "'which would effectually screen him from observation. "'Would there deliver his message "'and arrange, if possible, an interview "'on behalf of Mr. Winkle "'for the ensuing evening at the same hour. "'Having made this arrangement with great dispatch, "'he assisted Mary in the long deferred occupation "'of shaking the carpets. "'It is not half as innocent a thing "'as it looks at shaking little pieces of carpet. "'At least there may be no great harm in this shaking, "'but the folding is a very insidious process. "'So long as the shaking lasts "'and the two parties are kept the carpets' length apart, "'it is as innocent an amusement as can well be devised. "'But when the folding begins "'and the distance between them gets gradually lessened "'from one half its former length to a quarter "'and then to an eighth and then to a sixteenth "'and then to a thirty-second if the carpet belong enough, "'it becomes dangerous. "'We do not know to a nicety "'how many pieces of carpet were folded in this instance, "'but we conventionally state "'that as many pieces as there were "'so many times did Sam kiss the pretty housemaid. "'Mr. Weller regaled himself with moderation "'at the nearest tavern until it was nearly dusk "'and then returned to the lane without the thoroughfare. "'Having bid admitted into the garden by Mary "'and having received from that lady "'sundry admonitions concerning the safety "'of his limbs and neck, Sam mounted into the pear tree "'to wait until Arabella should come into sight. "'He waited so long without this anxiously expected event "'occurring that he began to think "'it was not going to take place at all. "'When he heard light footsteps upon the gravel "'and immediately afterwards beheld Arabella "'walking pensively down the garden. "'As soon as she came nearly below the tree, "'Sam began, by way of gently indicating his presence, "'to make sundry diabolical noises "'similar to those which would probably be natural "'to a person of middle age who had been afflicted "'with a combination of inflammatory sore throat, "'crupe and whooping cough from his earliest infancy. "'Upon this, the young lady cast a hurried glance "'towards the spot, once the dreadful sounds proceeded, "'and her previous alarm being not at all diminished "'when she saw a man among the branches. "'She would most certainly have decamped "'and alarmed the house, had not fear fortunately "'deprived her of the power of movie, "'and caused her to sink down on a garden seat "'which happened by good luck to be near at hand. "'She's a-going off,' soliloquized Sam, "'in great perplexity. "'What a thing it is, as these here young creeders "'will go a faint novage as when they oughten to. "'Here, young woman, Miss Sawbones, Mrs. Winkle, don't. "'Whether it was the magic of Mr. Winkle's name "'or the coolness of the open air, "'or some recollection of Mr. Weller's voice "'that revived Arabella, matters not. "'She raised her head and languidly inquired, "'Who's that, and what do you want?' "'Hush,' said Sam, swinging himself onto the wall "'and crouching there in as small a compass "'as he could reduce himself to. "'Only me, Miss, only me.' "'Mr. Pickwick's servant,' said Arabella earnestly. "'The where is same, Miss?' replied Sam. "'Here's Mr. Winkle regularly sewed up the desperation, Miss. "'Ah,' said Arabella, drawing near the wall. "'Ah, indeed,' said Sam. "'We thought we should have been obliged "'to straight-vesket him last night. "'He's been a raven all day, "'and he says if he can't see you a fortomorrow night's over, "'he wishes he may be something unpleasant "'and if he don't drown himself.' "'Oh, no, no, Mr. Weller,' said Arabella, "'clasping her hands. "'That's what he says, Miss,' replied Sam Cooley. "'He's a man of his word, "'and it's my opinion you'll do it, Miss. "'He's heard all about you from the sawbones and barnacles. "'From my brother,' said Arabella, "'having some faint recognition of Sam's description. "'I don't rightly know which is your brother, Miss,' replied Sam. "'Is it the dirtiest one of the two?' "'Yes, yes, Mr. Weller,' returned Arabella. "'Go on, make haste, pray.' "'Well, Miss,' said Sam, "'he's heard all about it from him. "'And it's the governor's opinion "'that if you don't see him very quick, the sawbones, "'as we've been speaking on, "'I'll get as much extra lead in his head "'as I'll raider damage the development of the organs "'if they ever put it in spirits' artiverts. "'Oh, what can I do to prevent these dreadful quarrels?' "'explained Arabella. "'It's the suspicion of a priori attachment, "'as is the cause of it all,' replied Sam. "'You'd better see him, Miss.' "'But how? "'Where?' cried Arabella. "'I dare not leave the house alone. "'My brother is so unkind, so unreasonable. "'I know how strange my talking thus to you "'may appear, Mr. Weller. "'But I am very, very unhappy.' "'And here poor Arabella wept so bitterly "'that Sam grew chivalrous. "'It may seem where he's strange talking to me "'about these here affairs, Miss,' said Sam, "'with great vehemence. "'But all I can say is that I'm not only ready, "'but villain, to do anything "'as I'll make matters agreeable. "'And if chucking either of them sawbones "'as out of winter I'll do it, I'm the man.' "'As Sam Weller said this, "'he tucked up his wristbands "'at the imminent hazard of falling off the wall "'and so doing, to intimate his readiness "'to set to work immediately. "'Flattering as these professions of good feeling were, "'Arabella resolutely declined, most unaccountably, "'as Sam thought, to avail herself of them. "'For some time she strenuously refused "'to grant Mr. Winkle the interview "'Sam had so pathetically requested. "'But at length, when the conversation "'threatened to be interrupted "'by the unwelcome arrival of a third party, "'she hurriedly gave him to understand, "'with many professions of gratitude, "'that it was barely possible "'she might be in the garden an hour later next evening. "'Sam understood this perfectly well, "'and Arabella, bestowing upon him "'one of her sweetest smiles, "'tripped gracefully away, "'leaving Mr. Weller in a state "'of very great admiration of her charms, "'both personal and mental. "'Having descended in safety from the wall "'and not forgotten to devote a few moments "'to his own particular business in the same department, "'Mr. Weller then made the best "'of his way back to the bush, "'where his prolonged absence "'had occasion to much speculation and some alarm. "'We must be careful,' said Mr. Pickwick, "'after listening attentively to Sam's tale. "'Not for our sakes, but for that of the young lady. "'We must be very cautious.' "'We,' said Mr. Winkle, with marked emphasis. "'Mr. Pickwick's momentary look "'of indignation at the tone of this remark, "'subsided into his characteristic expression "'of benevolence, as he replied, "'We, sir, I shall accompany you.' "'You,' said Mr. Winkle. "'I,' replied Mr. Pickwick mildly. "'In affording you this interview, "'the young lady has taken a natural, perhaps, "'but still a very imprudent step. "'If I am present at the meeting, "'a mutual friend who is old enough "'to be the father of both parties, "'the voice of Calumny can never be raised "'against her hereafter. "'Mr. Pickwick's eyes lightened "'with honest exaltation at his own foresight, "'as he spoke thus. "'Mr. Winkle was touched by this little trade "'of his delicate respect for the young protege "'of his friend, and took his hand "'with a feeling of regard akin to veneration. "'You shall go,' said Mr. Winkle. "'I will,' said Mr. Pickwick. "'Sam, have my great coat and shawl ready "'and order a conveyance to be at the door "'tomorrow evening, rather earlier than is absolutely necessary "'in order that we may be in good time.' "'Mr. Weller touched his hat, as an earnest of his obedience, "'and withdrew to make all needful preparations "'for the expedition. "'The coach was punctual to the time appointed, "'and Mr. Weller, after duly installing "'Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Winkle inside, "'took his seat on the box by the driver. "'They alighted, as had been agreed on, "'about a quarter of a mile from the place of Rendezvous, "'and, desiring the coachman to await their return, "'proceeded the remaining distance on foot. "'It was at this stage of the undertaking "'that Mr. Pickwick, with many smiles "'and various other indications of great self-satisfaction, "'produced from one of his coat-pockets a dark lantern, "'with which he had specially provided himself "'for the occasion, and the great mechanical beauty "'of which he proceeded to explain to Mr. Winkle, "'as they walked along, to the no small surprise "'of the few stragglers they met. "'I should have been the better for something of this kind "'in my last garden expedition at night, eh, Sam?' said Mr. Pickwick, looking good humoredly round at his follower who was trudging behind. "'Wearing nice things, if they're managed properly, sir,' replied Mr. Weller, "'but when you don't want to be seen, "'I think they're more useful, "'or the candle's gone out than when it's alight.'" Mr. Pickwick appeared struck by Sam's remarks, for he put the lantern into his pocket again, and they walked on in silence. "'Down here, sir,' said Sam, "'let me lead the way. "'This is the lane, sir.' Down the lane they went, and dark enough it was. Mr. Pickwick brought out the lantern once or twice as they groped their way along, and threw a very brilliant little tunnel of light before them, about a foot in diameter. It was very pretty to look at, but seemed to have the effect of rendering surrounding objects rather darker than before. At length they arrived at the large stone. Here Sam recommended his master and Mr. Winkle to seat themselves while he reconnoitred, and ascertained whether Mary was yet in waiting. After an absence of five or ten minutes, Sam returned to say that the gate was opened and all quiet. Following him, with stealthy tread, Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Winkle soon found themselves in the garden. Here everybody said, "'Hush!' a good many times, and that being done no one seemed to have any very distinct apprehension of what was to be done next. "'Is Miss Allen in the garden yet, Mary?' inquired Mr. Winkle, much agitated. "'I don't know, sir,' replied the pretty housemaid. "'The best thing to be done, sir, will be for Mr. Weller to give you a hoist up into the tree, and perhaps Mr. Pickwick will have the goodness to see that nobody comes up the lane while I watch at the other end of the garden. Goodness gracious, what's that?' "'That air-blessed lantern, albeit the death in us all,' exclaimed Sam peevishly. "'Take care what you're doing on, sir. You're ascending a blaze of light right into the back parlor window.' "'Dear me,' said Mr. Pickwick, turning hastily aside. "'I didn't mean to do that.' "'Now it's in the next house, sir,' remonstrated Sam. "'Less my heart,' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, turning round again. "'Now it's in the stable, and they'll think the place is a fire,' said Sam. "'Shut it up, sir, can't you?' "'It's the most extraordinary lantern I ever met with in all my life,' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, greatly bewildered by the effects he had so unintentionally produced. "'I never saw such a powerful reflector.' "'It'll be one too powerful for us if you keep blazing of A in that manner, sir,' replied Sam, as Mr. Pickwick, after various unsuccessful efforts managed to close the slide. "'There's the young lady's footsteps. "'Now, Mr. Winkle, sir, up with you.' "'Stop, stop,' said Mr. Pickwick. "'I must speak to her first. "'Help me up, Sam.' "'Gently, sir,' said Sam, planting his head against the wall and making a platform of his back. "'Step atop of that air flower pot, sir. "'Now then, up with you.' "'I'm afraid I shall hurt you, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick.' "'Never mind me, sir,' replied Sam. "'Lend him a hand, Mr. Winkle, sir. "'Study, sir, steady. "'That's the time of day.' As Sam spoke, Mr. Pickwick, by exertions almost supernatural in a gentleman of his years and weight, contrived to get upon Sam's back, and Sam gently raising himself up, and Mr. Pickwick holding on fast by the top of the wall while Mr. Winkle clasped him tight by the legs, they contrived by these means to bring his spectacles just above the level of the coping. "'My dear,' said Mr. Pickwick, looking over the wall and catching sight of Arabella on the other side, "'Don't be frightened, my dear, it's only me.' "'Oh, pray go away, Mr. Pickwick,' said Arabella. "'Tell them all to go away. "'I am so dreadfully frightened. "'Dear, dear Mr. Pickwick, don't stop there. "'You'll fall down and kill yourself. "'I know you will.' "'Now, pray don't alarm yourself, my dear,' said Mr. Pickwick, soothingly. "'There is not the least cause for fear, I assure you.' "'Stand firm, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, looking down. "'All right, sir,' replied Mr. Weller. "'Don't be longer than you can conveniently help, sir. "'You're either heavy.'" "'Only another moment, Sam,' replied Mr. Pickwick. "'I merely wished you to know, my dear, "'that I should not have allowed my young friend "'to see you in this clandestine way "'if the situation in which you are placed "'had left him any alternative. "'Unless the impropriety of this step "'should cause you any uneasiness, my love, "'it may be a satisfaction to you "'to know that I am present. "'That's all, my dear.' "'Indeed, Mr. Pickwick, "'I am very much obliged to you for your kindness "'and consideration,' replied Arabella, drawing her tears with her handkerchief. "'She would probably have said much more, "'had not Mr. Pickwick's head disappeared "'with great swiftness, "'in consequence of a false step on Sam's shoulder, "'which brought him suddenly to the ground. "'He was up again in an instant, however, "'and bidding Mr. Winkle make haste "'and get the interview over, "'ran out into the lane to keep watch "'with all the courage and ardor of youth. "'Mr. Winkle himself, inspired by the occasion, "'was on the wall in a moment, "'merely pausing to request Sam "'to be careful of his master. "'I'll take care of him, sir,' replied Sam, "'leave him to me. "'Where is he? "'What's he doing, Sam?' inquired Mr. Winkle. "'Bless his old gators, we joined Sam, "'looking out at the garden door. "'He's a keepin' guard in the lane "'that that air-dark lantern "'like an amiable guy, Fox. "'I never see such a fine creed "'or in my days. "'Blessed if I don't think his heart "'must have been borne five and twenty "'year after his body at least.' "'Mr. Winkle stayed not "'to hear the encomium upon his friend. "'He had dropped from the wall, "'thrown himself at Arabella's feet, "'and by this time was pleading "'the sincerity of his passion "'with an eloquence worthy even "'of Mr. Pickwick himself. "'While these things were going on "'in the open air, an elderly gentleman "'of scientific attainments "'was seated in his library, "'two or three houses off, "'writing a philosophical treatise, "'and ever-ended on, moistening his clay "'and his labors with a glass of claret "'from a venerable-looking bottle "'which stood by his side. "'In the agonies of composition, "'the elderly gentleman looked sometimes "'at the carpet, sometimes at the ceiling, "'and sometimes at the wall. "'And when neither carpet, ceiling nor wall, "'afforded the requisite degree of inspiration, "'he looked out of the window. "'In one of these pauses of invention, "'the scientific gentleman was gazing "'abstractedly on the thick darkness outside, "'when he was very much surprised "'by observing a most brilliant light "'glide through the air "'at a short distance above the ground "'and almost instantaneously vanish. "'After a short time the phenomenon was repeated, "'not once or twice, but several times. "'At last the scientific gentleman, "'laying down his pen, began to consider "'to what natural causes these appearances "'were to be assigned. "'There were not meteors, they were too low. "'There were not glow worms, they were too high. "'There were not willow the wisps, "'there were not fireflies, there were not fireworks. "'What could they be? "'Some extraordinary and wonderful phenomenon of nature, "'which no philosopher had ever seen before. "'Something which it had been reserved "'for him alone to discover, "'and which he should immortalize his name "'by chronicling for the benefit of posterity. "'Full of this idea, "'the scientific gentleman seized his pen again "'and committed to pay for sundry notes "'of these unparalleled appearances "'with a date, day, hour, minute, "'and precise second at which they were visible. "'All of which were to form the data "'of a voluminous treatise of great research "'and deep learning, "'which should astonish all the "'atmospherical wise-acres that ever drew breath "'in any part of the civilized globe. "'He threw himself back in his easy chair, "'wrapping contemplations of his future greatness. "'The mysterious light appeared more brilliantly than before, "'dancing to all appearance, "'up and down the lane, "'crossing from side to side, "'and moving in an orbit as eccentric as comets themselves. "'The scientific gentleman was a bachelor. "'He had no wife to call in and astonish, "'so he rang the bell for his servant. "'Pruffle,' said the scientific gentleman, "'there is something very extraordinary in the air tonight. "'Did you see that?' said the scientific gentleman, "'pointing out of the window as the light again became visible. "'Yes, I did, sir.' "'What do you think of it, Pruffle?' "'Think of it, sir?' "'Yes. "'You have been bred up in this country. "'What should you say was the cause for those lights now?' "'The scientific gentleman smilingly anticipated Pruffle's reply "'that he could assign no cause for them at all. "'Pruffle meditated. "'I should say it was thieves, sir,' said Pruffle at length. "'You're a fool and may go downstairs,' said the scientific gentleman. "'Thank you, sir,' said Pruffle, and down he went. But the scientific gentleman could not rest under the idea of the ingenious treatise he had projected being lost to the world, which must inevitably be the case, if the speculation of the ingenious Mr. Pruffle were not stifled in its birth. He put on his hat and walked quickly down the garden determined to investigate the matter to the very bottom. Now, shortly before the scientific gentleman walked out into the garden, Mr. Pickwick had run down the lane as fast as he could to convey a false alarm that somebody was coming that way, occasionally drawing back the slide of the dark lantern to keep himself from the ditch. The alarm was no sooner given than Mr. Winkle scrambled back over the wall and Arabella ran into the house. The garden gate was shut and the three adventurers were making the best of their way down the lane when they were startled by the scientific gentleman unlocking his garden gate. "'Hold hard,' whispered Sam, who was, of course, the first of the party. "'Show a light for just one second, sir.' Mr. Pickwick did as he was desired, and Sam, seeing a man's head peeping out very cautiously within half a yard of his own, gave it a gentle tap with his clenched fist which knocked it with a hollow sound against the gate. Having performed this feat with great suddenness and dexterity, Mr. Weller caught Mr. Pickwick up on his back and followed Mr. Winkle down the lane at a pace which, considering the burden he carried, was perfectly astonishing. "'Have you got your win back again, sir?' inquired Sam when they had reached the end. "'Quite, quite now,' replied Mr. Pickwick. "'Then come along, sir,' said Sam, setting his master on his feet again. "'Come between us, sir, not half a mile to run. "'Think you've been in a cup, sir, now for it.' Thus encouraged, Mr. Pickwick made the very best use of his legs. It may be confidently stated that a pair of black gaiters never got over the ground in better style than did those of Mr. Pickwick on this memorable occasion. The coach was waiting, the horses were fresh, the roads were good, and the driver was willy. The whole party arrived in safety at the bush before Mr. Pickwick had recovered his breath. "'In with you at once, sir,' said Sam, as he helped his master out. "'Don't stop a second in the street out of that air exercise. "'Beg your pardon, sir,' continued Sam, touching his hat, as Mr. Winkle descended. "'Hope there weren't a prior attachment, sir.' Mr. Winkle grasped his humble friend by the hand and whispered in his ear. "'It's all right, Sam, quite right.' Upon which Mr. Weller struck three distinct blows upon his nose in token of intelligence, smiled, winked, and proceeded to put the steps up with a countenance expressive of lively satisfaction. As to the scientific gentleman, he demonstrated in a masterly treatise that these wonderful lights were the effect of electricity and clearly proved the same by detailing how a flash of fire danced before his eyes when he put his head out of the gate and how he received a shock which stunned him for a quarter of an hour afterwards, which demonstration delighted all the scientific associations beyond measure and caused him to be considered a light of science ever afterwards.