The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club, v. 2 (of 2) Read online

  CHAPTER X

  _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 theunusual noise and disturbance which alarmed the inhabitants of theRoyal Crescent in manner and form already described, after passing anight of great confusion and anxiety, left the roof beneath which hisfriends still slumbered, bound he knew not whither. The excellent andconsiderate feelings which prompted Mr. Winkle to take this step cannever be too highly appreciated or too warmly extolled. "If," reasonedMr. Winkle with himself, "if this Dowler attempts (as I have no doubthe will) to carry into execution his threat of personal violenceagainst myself, it will be incumbent on me to call him out. He has awife; that wife is attached to and dependent on him. Heavens! If Ishould kill him in the blindness of my wrath, what would be my feelingsever afterwards!" This painful consideration operated so powerfully onthe feelings of the humane young man, as to cause his knees to knocktogether, and his countenance to exhibit alarming manifestations ofinward emotion. Impelled by such reflections, he grasped his carpetbag, and creeping stealthily down-stairs, shut the detestable streetdoor with as little noise as possible, and walked off. Bending hissteps towards the Royal Hotel, he found a coach on the point ofstarting for Bristol, and, thinking Bristol as good a place for hispurpose as any other he could go to, he mounted the box, and reachedthe place of destination in such time as the pair of horses, who wentthe whole stage and back again twice a day or more, could be reasonablysupposed to arrive there.

  He took up his quarters at The Bush, and, designing to postpone anycommunication by letter with Mr. Pickwick until it was probable thatMr. Dowler's wrath might have in some degree evaporated, walked forthto view the city, which struck him as being a shade more dirty thanany place he had ever seen. Having inspected the docks and shipping,and viewed the cathedral, he inquired his way to Clifton, and beingdirected thither, took the route which was pointed out to him. But, asthe pavements of Bristol are not the widest or cleanest upon earth, soits streets are not altogether the straightest or least intricate; Mr.Winkle being greatly puzzled by their manifold windings and twistings,looked about him for a decent shop, in which he could apply afresh forcounsel and instruction.

  His eyes fell upon a newly-painted tenement which had been recentlyconverted into something between a shop and a private house, and whicha red lamp, projecting over the fanlight of the street-door, would havesufficiently announced as the residence of a medical practitioner,even if the word "Surgery" had not been inscribed in golden characterson a wainscot ground, above the window of what, in times bygone, hadbeen the front parlour. Thinking this an eligible place wherein tomake his inquiries, Mr. Winkle stepped into the little shop where thegilt-labelled drawers and bottles were; and finding nobody there,knocked with a half-crown on the counter, to attract the attention ofanybody who might happen to be in the back parlour, which he judged tobe the innermost and peculiar sanctum of the establishment, from therepetition of the word "Surgery" on the door--painted in white lettersthis 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 verylarge book in his hand, glided quietly into the shop, and steppingbehind the counter, requested to know the visitor's pleasure.

  "I am sorry to trouble you, sir," said Mr. Winkle, "but will you havethe goodness to direct me to----"

  "Ha! ha! ha!" roared the studious young gentleman, throwing the largebook up into the air, and catching it with great dexterity at the verymoment when it threatened to smash to atoms all the bottles on thecounter. "Here's a start!"

  There was, without a doubt; for Mr. Winkle was so very much astonishedat the extraordinary behaviour of the medical gentleman, that heinvoluntarily retreated towards the door, and looked very muchdisturbed at this 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've decent luck. Getout, you mouldy old villain, get out!" With this adjuration, which wasaddressed to the large book, the medical gentleman kicked the volumewith remarkable agility to the further end of the shop, and, pullingoff his green spectacles, grinned the identical grin of Robert Sawyer,Esquire, formerly of Guy's Hospital in the Borough, with a privateresidence 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 the pressure.

  "I wonder you didn't see the name," said Bob Sawyer, calling hisfriend's attention to the outer door, on which, in the same whitepaint, were traced the words, "Sawyer, late Nockemorf."

  "It never caught my eye," returned Mr. Winkle.

  "Lord, if I had known who you were, I should have rushed out, andcaught you in my arms," said Bob Sawyer; "but upon my life, I thoughtyou were the King's-taxes."

  "No!" said Mr. Winkle.

  "I did, indeed," responded Bob Sawyer, "and I was just going to saythat I wasn't at home, but if you'd leave a message I'd be sure togive it to myself; for he don't know me; no more does the Lightingand Paving. I think the Church-rates guesses who I am, and I know theWater-works does, because I drew a tooth of his when I first came downhere. But come in, come in!" Chattering in this way, Mr. Bob Sawyerpushed Mr. Winkle into the back room, where, amusing himself by boringlittle circular caverns in the chimney-piece with a red-hot poker, satno 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_ soonafter the precious party, and my friends came down with the needfulfor this business; so I put on a black suit of clothes, and a pair ofspectacles, 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 yearsyou might put all the profits in a wine-glass, and cover 'em over witha gooseberry leaf."

  "You cannot surely mean that?" said Mr. Winkle. "The stock itself----"

  "Dummies, my dear boy," said Bob Sawyer; "half the drawers have nothingin 'em, and the other half don't open."

  "Nonsense!" said Mr. Winkle.

  "Fact--honour!" returned Bob Sawyer, stepping out into the shop, anddemonstrating the veracity of the assertion by divers hard pulls at thelittle gilt knobs on the counterfeit drawers. "Hardly anything real inthe shop but the leeches, and _they_ are second-hand."

  "I shouldn't have thought it!" exclaimed Mr. Winkle, much surprised.

  "I hope not," replied Bob Sawyer, "else where's the use of appearances,eh? But what will you take? Do as we do? That's right. Ben, my finefellow, put your hand into the cupboard, and bring out the patentdigester."

  Mr. Benjamin Allen smiled his readiness, and produced from the closetat 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 toqualify 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 liquorwith great relish. "Ben, the pipkin!"

  Mr. Benjamin Allen drew forth, from the same hiding-place, a smallbrass pipkin, which Bob Sawyer observed he prided himself uponparticularly, because it looked so business-like. The water in theprofessional pipkin having been made to boil, in course of time, byvarious little shovelsful of coal, which Mr. Bob Sawyer took out of apracticable window-seat, labelled "Soda Water," Mr. Winkle adulteratedhis brandy; an
d the conversation was becoming general, when it wasinterrupted by the entrance into the shop of a boy, in a sober greylivery and a gold-laced hat, with a small covered basket under his arm:whom Mr. Bob Sawyer immediately hailed with, "Tom, you vagabond, comehere."

  The boy presented himself accordingly.

  "You've been stopping to over all the posts in Bristol, you idle youngscamp!" 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 seehis boy playing at marbles in the gutter, or flying the garter in thehorse-road? Have you no feeling for your profession, you groveller? Didyou 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 oldgentleman'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 sobad as you would have me believe, either. There is _some_ medicine tobe sent out."

  Mr. Bob Sawyer peeped out the shop to see that no stranger was withinhearing, 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.

  "_You've been stopping to over all the posts inBristol_"]

  "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-parlour; master openit, and reads the label: 'Draught to be taken at bed-time--pills asbefore--lotion as usual--_the_ powder. From Sawyer's, late Nockemorf's.Physicians' prescriptions carefully prepared,' and all the rest ofit. Shows it to his wife--_she_ reads the label; it goes down to theservants--_they_ read the label. Next day, boy calls: 'Very sorry--hismistake--immense business--great many parcels to deliver--Mr. Sawyer'scompliments--late Nockemorf.' The name gets known, and that's thething, my boy, in the medical way. Bless your heart, old fellow,it's better than all the advertising in the world. We have got onefour-ounce bottle that's been to half the houses in Bristol, and hasn'tdone yet."

  "Dear me, I see," observed Mr. Winkle; "what an excellent plan!"

  "Oh, Ben and I have hit upon a dozen such," replied Bob Sawyer withgreat glee. "The lamplighter has eighteenpence a week to pull thenight-bell for ten minutes every time he comes round; and my boy alwaysrushes into church, just before the psalms, when the people have gotnothing to do but look about 'em, and calls me out, with horror anddismay depicted on his countenance. 'Bless my soul,' everybody says,'somebody taken suddenly ill! Sawyer, late Nockemorf, sent for. What abusiness that young man has!'"

  At the termination of this disclosure of some of the mysteries ofmedicine, Mr. Bob Sawyer and his friend, Ben Allen, threw themselvesback in their respective chairs, and laughed boisterously. When theyhad enjoyed the joke to their hearts' content, the discourse changed totopics in which Mr. Winkle was more immediately interested.

  We think we have hinted elsewhere, that Mr. Benjamin Allen had a wayof becoming sentimental after brandy. The case is not a peculiar one,as we ourselves can testify: having, on a few occasions, had to dealwith patients who have been afflicted in a similar manner. At thisprecise period of his existence, Mr. Benjamin Allen had perhaps agreater predisposition to maudlinism than he had ever known before;the cause of which malady was briefly this. He had been staying nearlythree weeks with Mr. Bob Sawyer; Mr. Bob Sawyer was not remarkablefor temperance, nor was Mr. Benjamin Allen for the ownership of avery strong head; the consequence was, that, during the whole spaceof time just mentioned, Mr. Benjamin Allen had been wavering betweenintoxication partial, and intoxication complete.

  "My dear friend," said Mr. Ben Allen, taking advantage of Mr. BobSawyer's temporary absence behind the counter, whither he had retiredto 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 toknow whether he could do anything to alleviate the sorrows of thesuffering student.

  "Nothing, my dear boy, nothing," said Ben. "You recollect Arabella,Winkle? My sister Arabella--a little girl, Winkle, with blackeyes--when we were down at Wardle's? I don't know whether you happenedto notice her, a nice little girl, Winkle. Perhaps my features mayrecall her countenance to your recollection?"

  Mr. Winkle required nothing to recall the charming Arabella to hismind; and it was rather fortunate he did not, for the features of herbrother Benjamin would unquestionably have proved but an indifferentrefresher to his memory. He answered, with as much calmness as he couldassume, that he perfectly remembered the young lady referred to, andsincerely trusted she was in good health.

  "Our friend Bob is a delightful fellow, Winkle," was the only reply ofMr. Ben Allen.

  "Very," said Mr. Winkle; not much relishing the close connection of thetwo names.

  "I designed 'em for each other; they were made for each other, sentinto the world for each other, born for each other, Winkle," said Mr.Ben Allen, setting down his glass with emphasis. "There's a specialdestiny in the matter, my dear sir; there's only five years' differencebetween 'em, and both their birthdays are in August."

  Mr. Winkle was too anxious to hear what was to follow, to expressmuch wonderment at this extraordinary coincidence, marvellous as itwas; so Mr. Ben Allen, after a tear or two, went on to say, that,notwithstanding all his esteem and respect and veneration for hisfriend, Arabella had unaccountably and undutifully evinced the mostdetermined antipathy to his person.

  "And I think," said Mr. Ben Allen, in conclusion, "_I_ think there's aprior 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 abovehis head, inflicted a savage blow on an imaginary skull, and wound upby saying, in a very expressive manner, that he only wished he couldguess; that was all.

  "I'd show him what I thought of him," said Mr. Ben Allen. And roundwent 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 upresolution to inquire whether Miss Allen was in Kent.

  "No, no," said Mr. Allen, laying aside the poker, and looking verycunning; "I didn't think Wardle's exactly the place for a headstronggirl; so, as I am her natural protector and guardian, our parents beingdead, I have brought her down into this part of the country, to spend afew months at an old aunt's, in a nice dull close place. I think thatwill cure her, my boy. If it doesn't, I'll take her abroad for a littlewhile, and see what that'll do."

  "Oh, the aunt's is in Bristol, is it?" faltered Mr. Winkle.

  "No, no, not in Bristol," replied Mr. Ben Allen, jerking his thumb overhis 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 roused in Mr. Winkle the highestdegree of excitement and anxiety. The suspected prior attachmentrankled in his heart. Could he be the object of it? Could it be forhim that the fair Arabella had looked scornfully on the sprightly BobSawyer, or had he a successful rival? He determined to see her, costwhat 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 couldin no wise guess.

  But he had no opportunity of pondering over his love just then, forBob Sawyer's return was the immediate precursor of the arrival of ameat pie from the baker's, of which that gentleman insisted on hisstaying to partake. The cloth was laid by an occasional charwoman,who officiated in the capacity of Mr. Bob Sawyer's housekeeper; and athird knife and fork having been borrowed fr
om the mother of the boyin the grey livery (for Mr. Sawyer's domestic arrangements were as yetconducted on a limited scale), they sat down to dinner; the beer beingserved up, as Mr. Sawyer remarked, "in its native pewter."

  After dinner Mr. Bob Sawyer ordered in the largest mortar in theshop, and proceeded to brew a reeking jorum of rum-punch therein:stirring up and amalgamating the materials with a pestle in a verycreditable and apothecary-like manner. Mr. Sawyer, being a bachelor,had only one tumbler in the house, which was assigned to Mr. Winkle asa compliment to the visitor: Mr. Ben Allen being accommodated with afunnel with a cork in the narrow end: and Bob Sawyer contented himselfwith one of those wide-lipped crystal vessels inscribed with a varietyof cabalistic characters, in which chemists are wont to measure outtheir liquid drugs in compounding prescriptions. These preliminariesadjusted, the punch was tasted, and pronounced excellent; and it havingbeen arranged that Bob Sawyer and Ben Allen should be considered atliberty to fill twice to Mr. Winkle's once, they started fair, withgreat satisfaction and good-fellowship.

  There was no singing, because Mr. Bob Sawyer said it wouldn't lookprofessional; but to make amends for this deprivation there was so muchtalking and laughing that it might have been heard, and very likelywas, at the end of the street. Which conversation materially lightenedthe hours and improved the mind of Mr. Bob Sawyer's boy, who instead ofdevoting the evening to his ordinary occupation of writing his name onthe 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 hadwell-nigh disappeared altogether, when the boy hastily running in,announced that a young woman had just come over, to say that Sawyerlate Nockemorf was wanted directly, a couple of streets off. This brokeup the party. Mr. Bob Sawyer understanding the message after sometwenty repetitions, tied a wet cloth round his head to sober himself,and, having partially succeeded, put on his green spectacles andissued forth. Resisting all entreaties to stay till he came back, andfinding it quite impossible to engage Mr. Ben Allen in any intelligibleconversation 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 Arabellahad awakened, prevented his share of the mortar of punch producing thateffect upon him which it would have had, under other circumstances.So, after taking a glass of soda-water and brandy at the bar, heturned into the coffee-room, dispirited rather than elevated by theoccurrences of the evening.

  Sitting in the front of the fire, with his back towards him, was atallish gentleman in a great-coat: the only other occupant of theroom. It was rather a cool evening for the season of the year, and thegentleman drew his chair aside to afford the new comer a sight of thefire. What were Mr. Winkle's feelings when, in doing so, he disclosedto view the face and figure of the vindictive and sanguinary Dowler!

  Mr. Winkle's first impulse was to give a violent pull at the nearestbell-handle, but that unfortunately happened to be immediately behindMr. Dowler's head. He had made one step towards it, before he checkedhimself. 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 ina gentleman of his ferocity.

  "A blow, sir?" stammered Mr. Winkle.

  "A blow, sir," replied Dowler. "Compose your feelings. Sit down. Hearme."

  "Sir," said Mr. Winkle, trembling from head to foot, "before I consentto sit down beside, or opposite you, without the presence of a waiter,I must be secured by some further understanding. You used a threatagainst me last night, sir, a dreadful threat, sir." Here Mr. Winkleturned 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. Irespect 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 ornot, and almost fearing that it was demanded in order that he might betaken at an advantage, "really sir, I----"

  "I know what you mean," interposed Dowler. "You feel aggrieved. Verynatural. So should I. I was strong. 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 ofextreme spirit, and he had a higher opinion of him than ever.

  "Now," said Dowler, "sit down. Relate it all. How did you find me? Whendid you follow? Be frank. Tell me."

  "It's quite accidental," replied Mr. Winkle, greatly perplexed by thecurious and unexpected nature of the interview, "quite."

  "Glad of it," said Dowler. "I woke this morning. I had forgotten mythreat. 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 arash one,' said she. 'It was,' said I. 'I'll apologise. Where is he?'"

  "Who?" inquired Mr. Winkle.

  "You," replied Dowler. "I went down-stairs. You were not to be found.Pickwick looked gloomy. Shook his head. Hoped no violence would becommitted. I saw it all. You felt yourself insulted. You had gone,for a friend perhaps. Possibly for pistols. 'High spirit,' said I. 'Iadmire him.'"

  Mr. Winkle coughed, and beginning to see how the land lay, assumed alook 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 to-morrow. Join me."

  As Dowler progressed in his explanation, Mr. Winkle's countenance grewmore and more dignified. The mysterious nature of the commencement oftheir conversation was explained; Mr. Dowler had as great an objectionto duelling as himself; in short, this blustering and awful personagewas one of the most egregious cowards in existence, and interpretingMr. Winkle's absence through the medium of his own fears, had taken thesame step as himself, and prudently retired until all excitement offeeling should have subsided.

  As the real state of the case dawned upon Mr. Winkle's mind, he lookedvery terrible, and said he was perfectly satisfied; but, at the sametime, said so with an air that left Mr. Dowler no alternative but toinfer that if he had not been, something most horrible and destructivemust inevitably have occurred. Mr. Dowler appeared to be impressed witha becoming sense of Mr. Winkle's magnanimity and condescension; andthe two belligerents parted for the night, with many protestations ofeternal friendship.

  About half-past twelve o'clock, when Mr. Winkle had been revelling sometwenty minutes in the full luxury of his first sleep, he was suddenlyawakened by a loud knocking at his chamber door, which being repeatedwith increased vehemence, caused him to start up in bed, and inquirewho 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 'ere, sir," replied another voice through thekeyhole; "and if that wery same interestin' young creetur ain't letin vithout delay, it's wery possible as his legs vill enter afore hiscountenance." The young man gave a gentle kick at one of the lowerpanels of the door, after he had given utterance to this hint, as if toadd force and point to the remark.

  "Is that you, Sam?" inquired Mr. Winkle, springing out of bed.

  "Quite unpossible to identify any gen'l'm'n vith any degree o' mentalsatisfaction, vithout lookin' 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 greatprecipitation, and carefully re-locking it on the inside, deliberatelyput the key in his waistcoat pocket: and, after surveying Mr. Win
klefrom head to foot, said:

  "You're a wery humorous young gen'l'm'n, 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 rayther too rich,as the young lady said, ven she remonstrated with the pastry-cook,arter he'd sold her a pork-pie as had got nothin' but fat inside. Whatdo _I_ mean! Well, that ain't a bad un, 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 wery samemoment as you leaves it," responded Sam, speaking in a forcible manner,and seating himself with perfect gravity. "If I find it necessary tocarry you away, pick-a-back, o' course I shall leave it the least bito' time possible afore you; but allow me to express a hope as youwon't reduce me to extremities; in saying vich, I merely quote wotthe nobleman said to the fractious pennywinkle, ven he vouldn't comeout of his shell by means of a pin, and he conseqvently began to beafeared that he should be obliged to crack him in the parlour 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'sface, with an expression of countenance that showed that he had not theremotest intention of being trifled with.

  "You're a amiably disposed young man, sir, I don't think," resumedMr. Weller, in a tone of moral reproof, "to go inwolving our preciousgovernor in all sorts o' fanteegs, ven he's made up his mind to gothrough everythink for principle. You're far worse nor Dodson, sir; andas for Fogg, I consider him a born angel to you!" Mr. Weller havingaccompanied this last sentiment with an emphatic slap on each knee,folded his arms with a look of great disgust, and threw himself back inhis chair, as if awaiting the criminal's defence.

  "My good fellow," said Mr. Winkle, extending his hand; his teethchattering all the time he spoke, for he had been standing, during thewhole of Mr. Weller's lecture, in his night-gear; "my good fellow, Irespect your attachment to my excellent friend, and I am very sorryindeed, to have added to his causes for disquiet. There, Sam, there!"

  "Well," said Sam, rather sulkily, but giving the proffered hand arespectful shake at the same time: "well, so you ought to be, and I amvery glad to find you air; for, if I can help it, I won't have him putupon by nobody, and that's all about it."

  "Certainly not, Sam," said Mr. Winkle. "There! Now go to bed, Sam, andwe'll talk further about this in the morning."

  "I'm wery 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 to-night, Sam?" urged Mr.Winkle, greatly surprised.

  "Not unless you particklerly wish it," replied Sam; "but mustn't leavethis 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 too, to assist me ingaining an interview with a young lady--Miss Allen, Sam; you rememberher--whom I must and will see before I leave Bristol."

  But in reply to each of these positions, Sam shook his head with greatfirmness, 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 theinterview with Dowler, Sam began to waver; and at length a compromisewas effected, of which the following were the main and principalconditions:

  That Sam should retire, and leave Mr. Winkle in the undisturbedpossession of his apartment, on the condition that he had permission tolock the door on 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 bewritten to Mr. Pickwick early next morning, and forwarded per Dowler,requesting his consent to Sam and Mr. Winkle's remaining at Bristol,for the purpose, and with the object, already assigned, and beggingan answer by the next coach; if favourable, the aforesaid parties toremain accordingly, and if not, to return to Bath immediately on thereceipt thereof. And, lastly, that Mr. Winkle should be understood asdistinctly pledging himself not to resort to the window, fireplace, orother surreptitious mode of escape in the meanwhile. These stipulationshaving been concluded, Sam locked the door and departed.

  He had nearly got down-stairs, when he stopped, and drew the key fromhis pocket.

  "I quite forgot about the knockin' down," said Sam, half turning back."The governor distinctly said it was to be done. Amazin' stupid o' me,that 'ere! Never mind," said Sam, brightening up, "it's easily doneto-morrow, anyvays."

  Apparently much consoled by this reflection, Mr. Weller once moredeposited the key in his pocket, and descending the remainder of thestairs without any fresh visitations of conscience, was soon, in commonwith the other inmates of the house, buried in profound repose.