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

  CHAPTER XIX

  _Is chiefly devoted to Matters of Business, and the Temporal Advantage of Dodson and Fogg. Mr. Winkle reappears under extraordinary Circumstances. Mr. Pickwick's Benevolence proves stranger than his Obstinacy_

  Job Trotter, abating nothing of his speed, ran up Holborn: sometimesin the middle of the road, sometimes on the pavement, sometimes in thegutter, as the chances of getting along varied with the press of men,women, children, and coaches, in each division of the thoroughfare;regardless of all obstacles, he stopped not for an instant until hereached the gate of Gray's Inn. Notwithstanding all the expedition hehad used, however, the gate had been closed a good half-hour when hereached it, and by the time he had discovered Mr. Perker's laundress,who lived with a married daughter, who had bestowed her hand upon anon-resident waiter, who occupied the one-pair of some number in somestreet closely adjoining to some brewery somewhere behind Gray's InnLane, it was within fifteen minutes of closing the prison for thenight. Mr. Lowten had still to be ferreted out from the back parlour ofthe Magpie and Stump; and Job had scarcely accomplished this object,and communicated Sam Weller's message, when the clock struck ten.

  "There," said Lowten, "it's too late now. You can't get in to-night;you've got the key of the street, my friend."

  "Never mind me," replied Job. "I can sleep anywhere. But won't it bebetter to see Mr. Perker to-night, so that we may be there the firstthing in the morning?"

  "Why," responded Lowten, after a little consideration, "if it was inanybody else's case, Perker wouldn't be best pleased at my going up tohis house; but as it's Mr. Pickwick's, I think I may venture to take acab and charge it to the office." Deciding on this line of conduct, Mr.Lowten took up his hat, and, begging the assembled company to appointa deputy chairman during his temporary absence, led the way to thenearest coachstand. Summoning the cab of most promising appearance, hedirected the driver to repair to Montague Place, Russell Square.

  Mr. Perker had had a dinner party that day, as was testified bythe appearance of lights in the drawing-room windows, the sound ofan improved grand piano, and an improvable cabinet voice issuingtherefrom, and a rather overpowering smell of meat which pervadedthe steps and entry. In fact a couple of very good country agencieshappening to come up to town, at the same time, an agreeable littleparty had been got together to meet them comprising Mr. Snicks the LifeOffice Secretary, Mr. Prosee the eminent counsel, three solicitors,one commissioner of bankrupts, a special pleader from the Temple, asmall-eyed peremptory young gentleman his pupil, who had written alively book about the law of demises, with a vast quantity of marginalnotes and references; and several other eminent and distinguishedpersonages. From this society, little Mr. Perker detached himself,on his clerk being announced in a whisper; and repairing to thedining-room, there found Mr. Lowten and Job Trotter looking very dimand shadowy by the light of a kitchen candle, which the gentleman whocondescended to appear in plush shorts and cottons for a quarterlystipend, had, with a becoming contempt for the clerk and all thingsappertaining to "the office," placed upon the table.

  "Now, Lowten," said little Mr. Perker, shutting the door, "what's thematter? No important letter come in a parcel, is there?"

  "No, sir," replied Lowten. "This is a messenger from Mr. Pickwick, sir."

  "From Pickwick, eh?" said the little man, turning quickly to Job."Well, what is it?"

  "Dodson and Fogg have taken Mrs. Bardell in execution for her costs,sir," said Job.

  "No!" exclaimed Perker, putting his hands in his pockets, and recliningagainst the sideboard.

  "Yes," said Job. "It seems they got a cognovit out of her, for theamount of 'em, directly after the trial."

  "By Jove!" said Perker, taking both hands out of his pockets, andstriking the knuckles of his right against the palm of his left,emphatically, "those are the cleverest scamps I ever had anything to dowith!"

  "The sharpest practitioners _I_ ever knew, sir," observed Lowten.

  "Sharp!" echoed Perker. "There's no knowing where to have them."

  "Very true, sir, there is not," replied Lowten; and then, both masterand man pondered for a few seconds, with animated countenances, asif they were reflecting upon one of the most beautiful and ingeniousdiscoveries that the intellect of man had ever made. When they had insome measure recovered from their trance of admiration, Job Trotterdischarged himself of the rest of his commission. Perker nodded hishead thoughtfully, and pulled out his watch.

  "At ten precisely, I will be there," said the little man. "Sam is quiteright. Tell him so. Will you take a glass of wine, Lowten?"

  "No, thank you, sir."

  "You mean yes, I think," said the little man, turning to the sideboardfor a decanter and glasses.

  As Lowten _did_ mean yes, he said no more on the subject, but inquiredof Job, in an audible whisper, whether the portrait of Perker whichhung opposite the fireplace, wasn't a wonderful likeness, to which Jobof course replied that it was. The wine being by this time poured out,Lowten drank to Mrs. Perker and the children, and Job to Perker. Thegentleman in the plush shorts and cottons considering it no part of hisduty to show the people from the office out, consistently declined toanswer the bell, and they showed themselves out. The attorney betookhimself to his drawing-room, the clerk to the Magpie and Stump, and Jobto Covent Garden Market to spend the night in a vegetable basket.

  Punctually at the appointed hour next morning, the good-humouredlittle attorney tapped at Mr. Pickwick's door, which was opened withgreat alacrity by Sam Weller.

  "Mr. Perker, sir," said Sam, announcing the visitor to Mr. Pickwick,who was sitting at the window in a thoughtful attitude. "Wery gladyou've looked in accidentally, sir. I rather think the gov'ner wants tohave a word and a half with you, sir."

  Perker bestowed a look of intelligence on Sam, intimating that heunderstood he was not to say he had been sent for: and beckoning him toapproach, whispered briefly in his ear.

  "You don't mean that 'ere, sir?" said Sam, starting back in excessivesurprise.

  Perker nodded and smiled.

  Mr. Samuel Weller looked at the little lawyer, then at Mr. Pickwick,then at the ceiling, then at Perker again; grinned, laughed outright,and, finally, catching up his hat from the carpet, without furtherexplanation, disappeared.

  "What does this mean?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, looking at Perker withastonishment. "What has put Sam into this most extraordinary state?"

  "Oh, nothing, nothing," replied Perker. "Come, my dear sir, draw upyour chair to the table. I have a good deal to say to you."

  "What papers are those?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, as the little mandeposited on the table a small bundle of documents tied with red tape.

  "The papers in Bardell and Pickwick," replied Perker, undoing the knotwith his teeth.

  Mr. Pickwick grated the legs of his chair against the ground; andthrowing himself into it, folded his hands and looked sternly--if Mr.Pickwick ever could look sternly--at his legal friend.

  "You don't like to hear the name of the cause?" said the little man,still busying himself with the knot.

  "No, I do not indeed," replied Mr. Pickwick.

  "Sorry for that," resumed Perker, "because it will form the subject ofour conversation."

  "I would rather that the subject should be never mentioned between us,Perker," interposed Mr. Pickwick, hastily.

  "Pooh, pooh, my dear sir," said the little man, untying the bundle,and glancing eagerly at Mr. Pickwick out of the corners of his eyes."It must be mentioned. I have come on purpose. Now, are you ready tohear what I have to say, my dear sir? No hurry; if you are not, Ican wait. I have this morning's paper here. Your time shall be mine.There!" Hereupon, the little man threw one leg over the other, and madea show of beginning to read with great composure and application.

  "Well, well," said Mr. Pickwick with a sigh, but softening into a smileat the same time. "Say what you have to say; it's the old story, Isuppose?"

  "With a difference, my dear sir; with a difference," rejoined Perker,
deliberately folding up the paper and putting it into his pocket again."Mrs. Bardell, the plaintiff in the action, is within these walls, sir."

  "I know it," was Mr. Pickwick's reply.

  "Very good," retorted Perker. "And you know how she comes here, Isuppose; I mean on what grounds, and at whose suit?"

  "Yes; at least I have heard Sam's account of the matter," said Mr.Pickwick, with affected carelessness.

  "Sam's account of the matter," replied Mr. Perker, "is, I will ventureto say, a perfectly correct one. Well now, my dear sir, the firstquestion I have to ask, is, whether this woman is to remain here?"

  "To remain here!" echoed Mr. Pickwick.

  "To remain here, my dear sir," rejoined Perker, leaning back in hischair and looking steadily at his client.

  "How can you ask me?" said that gentleman. "It rests with Dodson andFogg; you know that very well."

  "I know nothing of the kind," retorted Perker, firmly. "It does _not_rest with Dodson and Fogg; you know the men, my dear sir, as well as Ido. It rest solely, wholly, and entirely with you."

  "With me!" ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, rising nervously from his chair,and reseating himself directly afterwards.

  The little man gave a double knock on the lid of his snuff-box, openedit, took a great pinch, shut it up again, and repeated the words, "Withyou."

  "I say, my dear sir," resumed the little man, who seemed to gatherconfidence from the snuff; "I say that her speedy liberation orperpetual imprisonment rests with you, and with you alone. Hear me out,my dear sir, if you please, and do not be so very energetic, for itwill only put you into a perspiration and do no good whatever. I say,"continued Perker, checking off each position on a different finger, ashe laid it down; "I say that nobody but you can rescue her from thisden of wretchedness; and that you can only do that, by paying the costsof this suit--both of plaintiff and defendant--into the hands of theseFreeman's Court sharks. Now pray be quiet, my dear sir."

  Mr. Pickwick, whose face had been undergoing most surprising changesduring this speech, and who was evidently on the verge of a strongburst of indignation, calmed his wrath as well as he could. Perker,strengthening his argumentative powers with another pinch of snuff,proceeded.

  "I have seen the woman, this morning. By paying the costs, you canobtain a full release and discharge from the damages; and further--thisI know is a far greater object of consideration with you, my dearsir--a voluntary statement, under her hand, in the form of a letterto me, that this business was, from the very first, fomented, andencouraged, and brought about, by these men, Dodson and Fogg: that shedeeply regrets ever having been the instrument of annoyance or injuryto you; and that she entreats me to intercede with you, and imploreyour pardon."

  "If I pay her costs for her," said Mr. Pickwick, indignantly. "Avaluable document, indeed!"

  "No '_if_' in the case, my dear sir," said Perker, triumphantly. "Thereis the very letter I speak of. Brought to my office by another womanat nine o'clock this morning, before I had set foot in this place, orheld any communication with Mrs. Bardell, upon my honour." Selectingthe letter from the bundle, the little lawyer laid it at Mr. Pickwick'selbow, and took snuff for two consecutive minutes, without winking.

  "Is this all you have to say to me?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, mildly.

  "Not quite," replied Perker. "I cannot undertake to say, at thismoment, whether the wording of the cognovit, the nature of theostensible consideration, and the proof we can get together about thewhole conduct of the suit, will be sufficient to justify an indictmentfor conspiracy. I fear not, my dear sir; they are too clever forthat, I doubt. I do mean to say, however, that the whole facts, takentogether, will be sufficient to justify you, in the minds of allreasonable men. And now, my dear sir, I put it to you. This one hundredand fifty pounds, or whatever it may be--take it in round numbers--isnothing to you. A jury has decided against you; well, their verdictis wrong, but still they decided as they thought right, and it _is_against you. You have now an opportunity, on easy terms, of placingyourself in a much higher position than you ever could, by remaininghere; which would only be imputed, by people who didn't know you, tosheer dogged, wrongheaded, brutal obstinacy: nothing else, my dear sir,believe me. Can you hesitate to avail yourself of it, when it restoresyou to your friends, your old pursuits, your health and amusements;when it liberates your faithful and attached servant, whom youotherwise doom to imprisonment for the whole of your life; and aboveall, when it enables you to take the very magnanimous revenge--which Iknow, my dear sir, is one after your own heart--of releasing this womanfrom a scene of misery and debauchery to which no man should ever beconsigned, if I had my will, but the infliction of which on any woman,is even more frightful and barbarous. Now I ask you, my dear sir, notonly as your legal adviser, but as your very true friend, will you letslip the occasion of attaining all these objects, and doing all thisgood, for the paltry consideration of a few pounds finding their wayinto the pockets of a couple of rascals, to whom it makes no mannerof difference, except that the more they gain, the more they'll seek,and so the sooner be led into some piece of knavery that must end in acrash? I have put these considerations to you, my dear sir, very feeblyand imperfectly, but I ask you to think of them. Turn them over in yourmind as long as you please. I wait here most patiently for your answer."

  Before Mr. Pickwick could reply; before Mr. Perker had taken onetwentieth part of the snuff with which so unusually long an addressimperatively required to be followed up; there was a low murmuring ofvoices outside, and then a hesitating knock at the door.

  "Dear, dear," exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who had been evidently roused byhis friend's appeal; "what an annoyance that door is! Who is that?"

  "Me, sir," replied Sam Weller, putting in his head.

  "I can't speak to you just now, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. "I am engagedat this moment, Sam."

  "Beg your pardon, sir," rejoined Mr. Weller. "But here's a lady here,sir, as says she's somethin' wery partickler to disclose."

  "I can't see any lady," replied Mr. Pickwick, whose mind was filledwith visions of Mrs. Bardell.

  "I vouldn't make too sure o' that, sir," urged Mr. Weller, shaking hishead. "If you know'd who was near, sir, I rayther think you'd changeyour note. As the hawk remarked to himself with a cheerful laugh, venhe heard the robin redbreast a singin' round the corner."

  "Who is it?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.

  "Will you see her, sir?" asked Mr. Weller, holding the door in his handas if he had some curious live animal on the other side.

  "I suppose I must," said Mr. Pickwick, looking at Perker.

  "Well then, all in to begin!" cried Sam. "Sound the gong, draw up thecurtain, and enter the two con-spiraytors."

  As Sam Weller spoke, he threw the door open, and there rushedtumultuously into the room, Mr. Nathaniel Winkle: leading after himby the hand, the identical young lady who at Dingley Dell had wornthe boots with the fur round the tops, and who, now a very pleasingcompound of blushes and confusion and lilac silk and a smart bonnet anda rich lace veil, looked prettier than ever.

  "Miss Arabella Allen!" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, rising from his chair.

  "No," replied Mr. Winkle, dropping on his knees, "Mrs. Winkle. Pardon,my dear friend, pardon!"

  Mr. Pickwick could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses, andperhaps would not have done so, but for the corroborative testimonyafforded by the smiling countenance of Perker, and the bodily presence,in the background, of Sam and the pretty housemaid, who appeared tocontemplate the proceedings with the liveliest satisfaction.

  "Oh, Mr. Pickwick!" said Arabella, in a low voice, as if alarmed at thesilence. "Can you forgive my imprudence?"

  Mr. Pickwick returned no verbal response to this appeal; but he tookoff his spectacles in great haste, and seizing both the young lady'shands in his, kissed her a great number of times--perhaps a greaternumber than was absolutely necessary--and then, still retaining one ofher hands, told Mr. Winkle he was an audacious young dog, and bade himget up. This, Mr. Wink
le, who had been for some seconds scratching hisnose with the brim of his hat, in a penitent manner, did; whereupon Mr.Pickwick slapped him on the back several times, and then shook handsheartily with Perker, who, not to be behind-hand in the complimentsof the occasion, saluted both the bride and the pretty housemaid withright good will, and, having wrung Mr. Winkle's hand most cordially,wound up his demonstrations of joy by taking snuff enough to set anyhalf-dozen men, with ordinarily constructed noses, a sneezing for life.

  "Why, my dear girl," said Mr. Pickwick, "how has all this come about?Come! Sit down and let me hear all. How well she looks, doesn't she,Perker?" added Mr. Pickwick, surveying Arabella's face with a look ofas much pride and exultation, as if she had been his daughter.

  "Delightful, my dear sir," replied the little man. "If I were not amarried man myself, I should be disposed to envy you, you dog." Thusexpressing himself, the little lawyer gave Mr. Winkle a poke in thechest, which that gentleman reciprocated; after which they both laughedvery loudly, but not so loudly as Mr. Samuel Weller, who had justrelieved his feelings by kissing the pretty housemaid, under cover ofthe cupboard-door.

  "I can never be grateful enough to you, Sam, I am sure," said Arabella,with the sweetest smile imaginable. "I shall not forget your exertionsin the garden at Clifton."

  "Don't say nothin' wotever about it, ma'am," replied Sam. "I onlyassisted natur', ma'am; as the doctor said to the boy's mother, arterhe'd bled him to death."

  "Mary, my dear, sit down," said Mr. Pickwick, cutting short thesecompliments. "Now then; how long have you been married, eh?"

  Arabella looked bashfully at her lord and master, who replied, "Onlythree days."

  "Only three days, eh?" said Mr. Pickwick. "Why, what have you beendoing these three months?"

  "Ah, to be sure!" interposed Perker; "come! Account for this idleness.You see Pickwick's only astonishment is, that it wasn't all over monthsago."

  "Why the fact is," replied Mr. Winkle, looking at his blushing youngwife, "that I could not persuade Bella to run away, for a long time.And when I had persuaded her, it was a long time more, before we couldfind an opportunity. Mary had to give a month's warning too, before shecould leave her place next door, and we couldn't possibly have done itwithout her assistance."

  "Upon my word," exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who by this time had resumedhis spectacles, and was looking from Arabella to Winkle, and fromWinkle to Arabella, with as much delight depicted in his countenanceas warm-heartedness and kindly feeling can communicate to the humanface: "Upon my word! you seem to have been very systematic in yourproceedings. And is your brother acquainted with all this, my dear?"

  "Oh no, no," replied Arabella, changing colour. "Dear Mr. Pickwick, hemust only know it from you--from your lips alone. He is so violent, soprejudiced, and has been so--so anxious in behalf of his friend, Mr.Sawyer," added Arabella, looking down, "that I fear the consequencesdreadfully."

  "Ah, to be sure," said Perker, gravely. "You must take the matter inhand for them, my dear sir. These young men will respect you, when theywould listen to nobody else. You must prevent mischief, my dear sir.Hot blood, hot blood." And the little man took a warning pinch, andshook his head doubtfully.

  "You forget, my love," said Mr. Pickwick, gently, "you forget that I ama prisoner."

  "No, indeed I do not, my dear sir," replied Arabella. "I never haveforgotten it. I have never ceased to think how great your sufferingsmust have been in this shocking place. But I hoped that what noconsideration for yourself would induce you to do, a regard to ourhappiness might. If my brother hears of this, first, from you, I feelcertain we shall be reconciled. He is my only relation in the world,Mr. Pickwick, and unless you plead for me I fear I have lost even him.I have done wrong, very, very wrong, I know." Here poor Arabella hidher face in her handkerchief, and wept bitterly.

  Mr. Pickwick's nature was a good deal worked upon by these same tears;but when Mrs. Winkle, drying her eyes, took to coaxing and entreatingin the sweetest tones of a very sweet voice, he became particularlyrestless, and evidently undecided how to act. As was evinced by sundrynervous rubbings of his spectacle-glasses, nose, tights, head, andgaiters.

  Taking advantage of these symptoms of indecision, Mr. Perker (towhom, it appeared, the young couple had driven straight that morning)urged with legal point and shrewdness that Mr. Winkle senior wasstill unacquainted with the important rise in life's flight of stepswhich his son had taken; that the future expectations of the said sondepended entirely upon the said Winkle senior continuing to regard himwith undiminished feelings of affection and attachment, which it wasvery unlikely he would, if this great event were long kept a secretfrom him; that Mr. Pickwick, repairing to Bristol to seek Mr. Allen,might, with equal reason, repair to Birmingham to seek Mr. Winklesenior; lastly, that Mr. Winkle senior had good right and title toconsider Mr. Pickwick as in some degree the guardian and adviser of hisson, and that it consequently behoved that gentleman, and was indeeddue to his personal character, to acquaint the aforesaid Winkle seniorpersonally, and by word of mouth, with the whole circumstances of thecase, and with the share he had taken in the transaction.

  Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass arrived, most opportunely, in this stageof the pleadings, and as it was necessary to explain to them all thathad occurred, together with the various reasons pro and con, the wholeof the arguments were gone over again, after which everybody urgedevery argument in his own way, and at his own length. And at last Mr.Pickwick, fairly argued and remonstrated out of all his resolutions,and being in imminent danger of being argued and remonstrated out ofhis wits, caught Arabella in his arms, and declaring that she was avery amiable creature, and that he didn't know how it was, but he hadalways been very fond of her from the first, said he could never findit in his heart to stand in the way of young people's happiness, andthey might do with him as they pleased.

  Mr. Weller's first act, on hearing this concession, was to despatch JobTrotter to the illustrious Mr. Pell, with an authority to deliver tothe bearer the formal discharge which his prudent parent had had theforesight to leave in the hands of that learned gentleman, in case itshould be, at any time, required on an emergency; his next proceedingwas, to invest his whole stock of ready money in the purchase offive-and-twenty gallons of mild porter: which he himself dispensed onthe racket-ground to everybody who would partake of it; this done,he hurra'd in divers parts of the building until he lost his voice,and then quietly relapsed into his usual collected and philosophicalcondition.

  At three o'clock that afternoon, Mr. Pickwick took a last look at hislittle room, and made his way, as well as he could, through the throngof debtors who pressed eagerly forward to shake him by the hand, untilhe reached the lodge steps. He turned here, to look about him, and hiseyes lightened as he did so. In all the crowd of wan, emaciated faces,he saw not one which was not the happier for his sympathy and charity.

  "Perker," said Mr. Pickwick, beckoning one young man towards him, "thisis Mr. Jingle, whom I spoke to you about."

  "Very good, my dear sir," replied Perker, looking hard at Jingle."You will see me again, young man, to-morrow. I hope you may live toremember and feel deeply what I shall have to communicate, sir."

  Jingle bowed respectfully, trembled very much as he took Mr. Pickwick'sproffered hand, and withdrew.

  "Job you know, I think?" said Mr. Pickwick, presenting that gentleman.

  "I know the rascal," replied Perker, good-humouredly. "See after yourfriend, and be in the way to-morrow at one. Do you hear? Now, is thereanything more?"

  "Nothing," rejoined Mr. Pickwick. "You have delivered the little parcelI gave you for your old landlord, Sam?"

  "I have, sir," replied Sam. "He bust out a cryin', sir, and said youwos wery gen'rous and thoughtful, and he only wished you could have himinnokilated for a gallopin' consumption, for his old friend, as hadlived here so long, wos dead, and he'd noweres to look for another."

  "Poor fellow, poor fellow!" said Mr. Pickwick. "God bless you, myfriends!"

  As M
r. Pickwick uttered this adieu, the crowd raised a loud shout. Manyamong them were pressing forward to shake him by the hand again, whenhe drew his arm through Perker's, and hurried from the prison: far moresad and melancholy, for the moment, than when he had first entered it.Alas! how many sad and unhappy beings had he left behind!

  A happy evening was that, for, at least, one party in the George andVulture; and light and cheerful were two of the hearts that emergedfrom its hospitable door next morning. The owners thereof were Mr.Pickwick and Sam Weller, the former of whom was speedily depositedinside a comfortable post coach, with a little dickey behind, in whichthe latter mounted with great agility.

  "Sir," called out Mr. Weller to his master.

  "Well, Sam?" replied Mr. Pickwick, thrusting his head out of the window.

  "I wish them horses had been three months and better in the Fleet, sir."

  "Why, Sam?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.

  "Vy, sir," exclaimed Mr. Weller, rubbing his hands, "how they would goif they had been!"