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

  CHAPTER XXV

  _Comprising the final Exit of Mr. Jingle and Job Trotter; with a great Morning of Business in Gray's Inn Square. Concluding with a Double Knock at Mr. Perker's Door_

  When Arabella, after some gentle preparation, and many assurances thatthere was not the least occasion for being low-spirited, was at lengthmade acquainted by Mr. Pickwick with the unsatisfactory result of hisvisit to Birmingham, she burst into tears, and sobbing aloud, lamentedin moving terms that she should have been the unhappy cause of anyestrangement between a father and his son.

  "My dear girl," said Mr. Pickwick, kindly, "it is no fault of yours. Itwas impossible to foresee that the old gentleman would be so stronglyprepossessed against his son's marriage, you know. I am sure," addedMr. Pickwick, glancing at her pretty face, "he can have very littleidea of the pleasure he denies himself."

  "Oh, my dear Mr. Pickwick," said Arabella, "what shall we do, if hecontinues to be angry with us?"

  "Why, wait patiently, my dear, until he thinks better of it," repliedMr. Pickwick, cheerfully.

  "But, dear Mr. Pickwick, what is to become of Nathaniel if his fatherwithdraws his assistance?" urged Arabella.

  "In that case, my love," rejoined Mr. Pickwick, "I will venture toprophesy that he will find some other friend who will not be backwardin helping him to start in the world."

  The significance of this reply was not so well disguised by Mr.Pickwick but that Arabella understood it. So, throwing her arms roundhis neck, and kissing him affectionately, she sobbed louder than before.

  "Come, come," said Mr. Pickwick, taking her hand, "we will wait here afew days longer, and see whether he writes or takes any other notice ofyour husband's communication. If not, I have thought of half a dozenplans, any one of which would make you happy at once. There, my dear,there!"

  With these words, Mr. Pickwick gently pressed Arabella's hand and badeher dry her eyes, and not distress her husband. Upon which, Arabella,who was one of the best little creatures alive, put her handkerchief inher reticule, and by the time Mr. Winkle joined them, exhibited in fulllustre the same beaming smiles and sparkling eyes that had originallycaptivated him.

  "This is a distressing predicament for these young people," thought Mr.Pickwick, as he dressed himself next morning. "I'll walk up to Perker'sand consult him about the matter."

  As Mr. Pickwick was further prompted to betake himself to Gray's InnSquare by an anxious desire to come to a pecuniary settlement with thekind-hearted little attorney without further delay, he made a hurriedbreakfast, and executed his intention so speedily, that ten o'clock hadnot struck when he reached Gray's Inn.

  It still wanted ten minutes to the hour when he had ascended thestaircase on which Perker's chambers were. The clerks had not arrivedyet, and he beguiled the time by looking out of the staircase window.

  The healthy light of a fine October morning made even the dingy oldhouses brighten up a little: some of the dusty windows actually lookingalmost cheerful as the sun's rays gleamed upon them. Clerk after clerkhastened into the square by one or other of the entrances, and lookingup at the Hall clock, accelerated or decreased his rate of walkingaccording to the time at which his office hours nominally commenced;the half-past nine o'clock people suddenly becoming very brisk, andthe ten o'clock gentlemen falling into a pace of most aristocraticslowness. The clock struck ten, and clerks poured in faster than ever,each one in a greater perspiration than his predecessor. The noise ofunlocking and opening doors echoed and re-echoed on every side; headsappeared as if by magic in every window; the porters took up theirstations for the day; the slipshod laundresses hurried off; the postmanran from house to house; and the whole legal hive was in a bustle.

  "You're early, Mr. Pickwick," said a voice behind him.

  "Ah, Mr. Lowten," replied that gentleman, looking round, andrecognising his old acquaintance.

  "Precious warm walking, isn't it?" said Lowten, drawing a Bramah keyfrom his pocket, with a small plug therein, to keep the dust out.

  "You appear to feel it so," rejoined Mr. Pickwick, smiling at theclerk, who was literally red-hot.

  "I've come along rather, I can tell you," replied Lowten. "It went thehalf-hour as I came through the Polygon. I'm here before _him_, though,so I don't mind."

  Comforting himself with this reflection, Mr. Lowten extracted theplug from the door-key, and having opened the door, re-plugged andre-pocketed his Bramah, and picked up the letters which the postman haddropped through the box. He then ushered Mr. Pickwick into the office.Here, in the twinkling of an eye, he divested himself of his coat, puton a threadbare garment which he took out of a desk, hung up his hat,pulled forth a few sheets of cartridge and blotting paper in alternatelayers, and sticking a pen behind his ear, rubbed his hands with anair of great satisfaction.

  "There you see, Mr. Pickwick," he said, "now I'm complete. I've got myoffice coat on, and my pad out, and let him come as soon as he likes.You haven't got a pinch of snuff about you, have you?"

  "No, I have not," replied Mr. Pickwick.

  "I'm sorry for it," said Lowten. "Never mind. I'll run out presently,and get a bottle of soda. Don't I look rather queer about the eyes, Mr.Pickwick?"

  The individual appealed to, surveyed Mr. Lowten's eyes from a distance,and expressed his opinion that no unusual queerness was perceptible inthose features.

  "I'm glad of it," said Lowten. "We were keeping it up pretty tolerablyat the Stump last night, and I'm rather out of sorts this morning.Perker's been about that business of yours, by-the-bye."

  "What business?" inquired Mr. Pickwick. "Mrs. Bardell's costs?"

  "No, I don't mean that," replied Mr. Lowten. "About getting thatcustomer that we paid the ten shillings in the pound to the billdiscounter for, on your account--to get him out of the Fleet, youknow--about getting him to Demerara."

  "Oh! Mr. Jingle?" said Mr. Pickwick, hastily. "Yes. Well?"

  "Well, it's all arranged," said Lowten, mending his pen. "The agent atLiverpool said he had been obliged to you many times when you were inbusiness, and he would be glad to take him on your recommendation."

  "That's well," said Mr. Pickwick. "I am delighted to hear it."

  "But I say," resumed Lowten, scraping the back of the pen preparatoryto making a fresh split, "_what_ a soft chap that other is!"

  "Which other?"

  "Why, that servant, or friend, or whatever he is; _you_ know; Trotter."

  "Ah?" said Mr. Pickwick, with a smile. "I always thought him thereverse."

  "Well, and so did I, from what little I saw of him," replied Lowten,"it only shows how one may be deceived. What do you think of _his_going to Demerara, too?"

  "What! And giving up what was offered him here!" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.

  "Treating Perker's offer of eighteen bob a-week, and a rise if hebehaved himself, like dirt," replied Lowten. "He said he must go alongwith the other one, and so they persuaded Perker to write again, andthey've got him something on the same estate; not near so good, Perkersays, as a convict would get in New South Wales, if he appeared at histrial in a new suit of clothes."

  "Foolish fellow," said Mr. Pickwick, with glistening eyes. "Foolishfellow."

  "Oh, it's worse than foolish; it's downright sneaking, you know,"replied Lowten, nibbing the pen with a contemptuous face. "He saysthat he's the only friend he ever had, and he's attached to him, andall that. Friendship's a very good thing in its way: we are all veryfriendly and comfortable at the Stump, for instance, over our grog,where every man pays for himself; but damn hurting yourself for anybodyelse, you know! No man should have more than two attachments--thefirst, to number one, and the second to the ladies; that's whatI say--ha! ha!" Mr. Lowten concluded with a loud laugh, half injocularity, and half in derision, which was prematurely cut short bythe sound of Perker's footsteps on the stairs: at the first approachof which he vaulted on his stool with an agility most remarkable, andwrote intensely.

  The greeting between Mr. Pickwick and his professional adviser waswarm
and cordial; the client was scarcely ensconced in the attorney'sarm-chair, however, when a knock was heard at the door, and a voiceinquired whether Mr. Perker was within.

  "Hark!" said Perker, "that's one of our vagabond friends--Jinglehimself, my dear sir. Will you see him?"

  "What do you think?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, hesitating.

  "Yes, I think you had better. Here, you sir, what's your name, walk in,will you?"

  In compliance with this unceremonious invitation, Jingle and Jobwalked into the room, but, seeing Mr. Pickwick, stopped short in someconfusion.

  "Well," said Perker, "don't you know that gentleman?"

  "Good reason to," replied Mr. Jingle, stepping forward. "Mr.Pickwick--deepest obligations--life preserver--made a man of me--youshall never repent it, sir."

  "I am happy to hear you say so," said Mr. Pickwick. "You look muchbetter."

  "Thanks to you, sir--great change--Majesty's Fleet--unwholesomeplace--very," said Jingle, shaking his head. He was decently andcleanly dressed, and so was Job, who stood bolt upright behind him,staring at Mr. Pickwick with a visage of iron.

  "When do they go to Liverpool?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, half aside toPerker.

  "This evening, sir, at seven o'clock," said Job, taking one stepforward. "By the heavy coach from the city, sir."

  "Are your places taken?"

  "They are, sir," replied Job.

  "You have fully made up your mind to go?"

  "I have, sir," answered Job.

  "With regard to such an outfit as was indispensable for Jingle," saidPerker, addressing Mr. Pickwick aloud, "I have taken upon myself tomake an arrangement for the deduction of a small sum from his quarterlysalary, which, being made only for one year, and regularly remitted,will provide for that expense. I entirely disapprove of your doinganything for him, my dear sir, which is not dependent on his ownexertions and good conduct."

  "Certainly," interposed Jingle, with great firmness. "Clear head--manof the world--quite right--perfectly."

  "By compounding with his creditor, releasing his clothes from thepawnbroker's, relieving him in prison, and paying for his passage,"continued Perker, without noticing Jingle's observation, "you havealready lost upwards of fifty pounds."

  "Not lost," said Jingle, hastily. "Pay it all--stick to business--cashup--every farthing. Yellow fever perhaps--can't help that--if not--"Here Mr. Jingle paused, and striking the crown of his hat with greatviolence, passed his hand over his eyes, and sat down.

  "He means to say," said Job, advancing a few paces, "that if he isnot carried off by the fever, he will pay the money back again. If helives, he will, Mr. Pickwick. I will see it done. I know he will, sir,"said Job, with energy. "I could undertake to swear it."

  "Well, well," said Mr. Pickwick, who had been bestowing a score or twoof frowns upon Perker, to stop his summary of benefits conferred, whichthe little attorney obstinately disregarded, "you must be careful notto play any more desperate cricket matches, Mr. Jingle, or to renewyour acquaintance with Sir Thomas Blazo, and I have little doubt ofyour preserving your health."

  Mr. Jingle smiled at this sally, but looked rather foolishnotwithstanding; so Mr. Pickwick changed the subject by saying:

  "You don't happen to know, do you, what has become of another friend ofyours--a more humble one, whom I saw at Rochester?"

  "Dismal Jemmy?" inquired Jingle.

  "Yes."

  Jingle shook his head.

  "Clever rascal--queer fellow, hoaxing genius--Job's brother."

  "Job's brother!" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. "Well, now I look at himclosely, there _is_ a likeness."

  "We were always considered like each other, sir," said Job, with acunning look just lurking in the corners of his eyes, "only I wasreally of a serious nature, and he never was. He emigrated to America,sir, in consequence of being too much sought after to be comfortable;and has never been heard of since."

  "That accounts for my not having received the 'page from the romanceof real life' which he promised me one morning when he appeared tobe contemplating suicide on Rochester Bridge, I suppose," said Mr.Pickwick, smiling. "I need not inquire whether his dismal behaviour wasnatural or assumed."

  "He could assume anything, sir," said Job. "You may consider yourselfvery fortunate in having escaped him so easily. On intimate terms hewould have been even more dangerous acquaintance than--" Job looked atJingle, hesitated, and finally added, "than--than--myself even."

  "A hopeful family yours, Mr. Trotter," said Perker, sealing a letterwhich he had just finished writing.

  "Yes, sir," replied Job. "Very much so."

  "Well," said the little man, laughing; "I hope you are going todisgrace it. Deliver this letter to the agent when you reach Liverpool,and let me advise you, gentlemen, not to be too knowing in the WestIndies. If you throw away this chance, you will both richly deserve tobe hanged, as I sincerely trust you will be. And now you had betterleave Mr. Pickwick and me alone, for we have other matters to talkover, and time is precious." As Perker said this, he looked towards thedoor, with an evident desire to render the leave-taking as brief aspossible.

  It was brief enough on Mr. Jingle's part. He thanked the littleattorney in a few hurried words for the kindness and promptitude withwhich he had rendered his assistance, and, turning to his benefactor,stood for a few seconds as if irresolute what to say or how to act. JobTrotter relieved his perplexity; for, with a humble and grateful bow toMr. Pickwick, he took his friend gently by the arm, and led him away.

  "A worthy couple!" said Perker, as the door closed behind them.

  "I hope they may become so," said Mr. Pickwick. "What do you think? Isthere any chance of their permanent reformation?"

  Perker shrugged his shoulders doubtfully, but observing Mr. Pickwick'sanxious and disappointed look, rejoined:

  "Of course there is a chance. I hope it may prove a good one. Theyare unquestionably penitent now; but then, you know, they have therecollection of very recent suffering fresh upon them. What they maybecome, when that fades away, is a problem that neither you nor I cansolve. However, my dear sir," added Perker, laying his hand on Mr.Pickwick's shoulder, "your object is equally honourable, whateverthe result is. Whether that species of benevolence which is so verycautious and long-sighted that it is seldom exercised at all, lestits owner should be imposed upon, and so wounded in his self-love, bereal charity or a worldly counterfeit, I leave to wiser heads thanmine to determine. But if those two fellows were to commit a burglaryto-morrow, my opinion of this action would be equally high."

  With these remarks, which were delivered in a much more animated andearnest manner than is usual in legal gentlemen, Perker drew his chairto his desk, and listened to Mr. Pickwick's recital of old Mr. Winkle'sobstinacy.

  "Give him a week," said Perker, nodding his head prophetically.

  "Do you think he will come round?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.

  "I think he will," rejoined Perker. "If not, we must try the younglady's persuasion; and that is what anybody but you would have donefirst."

  Mr. Perker was taking a pinch of snuff with various grotesquecontractions of countenance, eulogistic of the persuasive powersappertaining unto young ladies, when the murmur of inquiry and answerwas heard in the outer office, and Lowten tapped at the door.

  "Come in!" cried the little man.

  The clerk came in, and shut the door after him, with great mystery.

  "What's the matter?" inquired Perker.

  "You're wanted, sir."

  "Who wants me?"

  Lowten looked at Mr. Pickwick, and coughed.

  "Who wants me? Can't you speak, Mr. Lowten?"

  "Why, sir," replied Lowten, "it's Dodson; and Fogg is with him."

  "Bless my life!" said the little man, looking at his watch. "Iappointed them to be here, at half-past eleven, to settle that matterof yours, Pickwick. I gave them an undertaking on which they sent downyour discharge; it's very awkward, my dear sir; what will you do? Wouldyou like to step into the next room?"

&n
bsp; The next room being the identical room in which Messrs. Dodson and Foggwere, Mr. Pickwick replied that he would remain where he was: the moreespecially as Messrs. Dodson and Fogg ought to be ashamed to look himin the face, instead of his being ashamed to see them. Which lattercircumstance he begged Mr. Perker to note, with a glowing countenanceand many marks of indignation.

  "Very well, my dear sir, very well," replied Perker. "I can only saythat if you expect either Dodson or Fogg to exhibit any symptom ofshame or confusion at having to look you, or anybody else, in the face,you are the most sanguine man in your expectations that I ever metwith. Show them in, Mr. Lowten."

  Mr. Lowten disappeared with a grin, and immediately returned usheringin the firm, in due form of precedence: Dodson first, and Foggafterwards.

  "You have seen Mr. Pickwick, I believe?" said Perker to Dodson,inclining his pen in the direction where that gentleman was seated.

  "How do you do, Mr. Pickwick?" said Dodson in a loud voice.

  "Dear me," cried Fogg, "how do you do, Mr. Pickwick? I hope you arewell, sir. I thought I knew the face," said Fogg, drawing up a chairand looking round him with a smile.

  Mr. Pickwick bent his head very slightly, in answer to thesesalutations, and, seeing Fogg pull a bundle of papers from hiscoat-pocket, rose and walked to the window.

  "There's no occasion for Mr. Pickwick to move, Mr. Perker," said Fogg,untying the red tape which encircled the little bundle, and smilingagain more sweetly than before. "Mr. Pickwick is pretty well acquaintedwith these proceedings. There are no secrets between us, I think. He!he! he!"

  "Not many, I think," said Dodson. "Ha! ha! ha!" Then both the partnerslaughed together--pleasantly and cheerfully, as men who are going toreceive money, often do.

  "We shall make Mr. Pickwick pay for peeping," said Fogg, withconsiderable native humour, as he unfolded his papers. "The amount ofthe taxed costs is one hundred and thirty-three, six, four, Mr. Perker."

  There was a great comparing of papers, and turning over of leaves, byFogg and Perker, after this statement of profit and loss. Meanwhile,Dodson said in an affable manner to Mr. Pickwick:

  "I don't think you are looking quite so stout as when I had thepleasure of seeing you last, Mr. Pickwick."

  "Possibly not, sir," replied Mr. Pickwick, who had been flashing forthlooks of fierce indignation, without producing the smallest effect oneither of the sharp practitioners; "I believe I am not, sir. I havebeen persecuted and annoyed by Scoundrels of late, sir."

  Perker coughed violently, and asked Mr. Pickwick whether he wouldn'tlike to look at the morning paper? To which inquiry Mr. Pickwickreturned a most decided negative.

  "True," said Dodson, "I dare say you _have_ been annoyed in the Fleet;there are some odd gentry there. Whereabouts were your apartments, Mr.Pickwick?"

  "My one room," replied that much injured gentleman, "was on the CoffeeRoom flight."

  "Oh, indeed!" said Dodson. "I believe that is a very pleasant part ofthe establishment."

  "Very," replied Mr. Pickwick, dryly.

  There was a coolness about all this, which, to a gentleman of anexcitable temperament, had, under the circumstances, rather anexasperating tendency. Mr. Pickwick restrained his wrath by giganticefforts; but when Perker wrote a cheque for the whole amount, and Foggdeposited it in a small pocket-book with a triumphant smile playingover his pimply features which communicated itself likewise to thestern countenance of Dodson, he felt the blood in his cheeks tinglingwith indignation.

  "Now, Mr. Dodson," said Fogg, putting up the pocket-book and drawing onhis gloves, "I am at your service."

  "Very good," said Dodson, rising, "I am quite ready."

  "I am very happy," said Fogg, softened by the cheque, "to have had thepleasure of making Mr. Pickwick's acquaintance. I hope you don't thinkquite so ill of us, Mr. Pickwick, as when we first had the pleasure ofseeing you."

  "I hope not," said Dodson, with the high tone of calumniated virtue."Mr. Pickwick now knows us better, I trust: whatever your opinion ofgentlemen of our profession may be, I beg to assure you, sir, that Ibear no ill-will or vindictive feeling towards you for the sentimentsyou thought proper to express in our office in Freeman's Court,Cornhill, on the occasion to which my partner has referred."

  "Oh no, no; nor I," said Fogg, in a most forgiving manner.

  "Our conduct, sir," said Dodson, "will speak for itself, and justifyitself, I hope, upon every occasion. We have been in the professionsome years, Mr. Pickwick, and have been honoured with the confidence ofmany excellent clients. I wish you good morning, sir."

  "_Good_ morning, Mr. Pickwick," said Fogg. So saying, he put hisumbrella under his arm, drew off his right glove, and extended the handof reconciliation to that most indignant gentleman: who, thereupon,thrust his hands beneath his coat tails, and eyed the attorney withlooks of scornful amazement.

  "Lowten!" cried Perker at this moment. "Open the door."

  "Wait one instant," said Mr. Pickwick, "Perker, I _will_ speak."

  "My dear sir, pray let the matter rest where it is," said the littleattorney, who had been in a state of nervous apprehension during thewhole interview; "Mr. Pickwick, I beg!"

  "I will not be put down, sir," replied Mr. Pickwick, hastily. "Mr.Dodson, you have addressed some remarks to me."

  Dodson turned round, bent his head meekly, and smiled.

  "Some remarks to me," repeated Mr. Pickwick, almost breathless; "andyour partner has tendered me his hand, and you have both assumed a toneof forgiveness and high-mindedness, which is an extent of impudencethat I was not prepared for, even in you."

  "What, sir!" exclaimed Dodson.

  "What, sir!" reiterated Fogg.

  "Do you know that I have been the victim of your plots andconspiracies?" continued Mr. Pickwick. "Do you know that I am the manwhom you have been imprisoning and robbing? Do you know that you werethe attorneys for the plaintiff, in Bardell and Pickwick?"

  "Yes, sir, we do know it," replied Dodson.

  "Of course we know it, sir," rejoined Fogg, slapping his pocket--perhapsby accident.

  "I see that you recollect it with satisfaction," said Mr. Pickwick,attempting to call up a sneer for the first time in his life, andfailing most signally in so doing. "Although I have long been anxiousto tell you, in plain terms, what my opinion of you is, I should havelet even this opportunity pass, in deference to my friend Perker'swishes, but for the unwarrantable tone you have assumed, and yourinsolent familiarity. I say insolent familiarity, sir," said Mr.Pickwick, turning upon Fogg with a fierceness of gesture which causedthat person to retreat towards the door with great expedition.

  "Take care, sir," said Dodson, who, though he was the biggest manof the party, had prudently intrenched himself behind Fogg, and wasspeaking over his head with a very pale face. "Let him assault you, Mr.Fogg; don't return it on any account."

  "No, no, I won't return it," said Fogg, falling back a little more ashe spoke; to the evident relief of his partner, who by these means wasgradually getting into the outer office.

  "You are," continued Mr. Pickwick, resuming the thread of hisdiscourse, "you are a well-matched pair of mean, rascally, pettifoggingrobbers."

  "Well," interposed Perker, "is that all?"

  "It is all summed up in that," rejoined Mr. Pickwick; "they are mean,rascally, pettifogging robbers."

  "There!" said Perker in a most conciliatory tone. "My dear sirs, he hassaid all he has to say. Now pray go. Lowten, _is_ that door open?"

  Mr. Lowten, with a distant giggle, replied in the affirmative.

  "There, there--good morning--good morning--now pray, my dear sirs,--Mr.Lowten, the door!" cried the little man, pushing Dodson and Fogg,nothing loath, out of the office; "this way, my dear sirs,--now praydon't prolong this--dear me--Mr. Lowten--the door, sir--why don't youattend?"

  "If there's law in England, sir," said Dodson, looking towards Mr.Pickwick, as he put on his hat, "you shall smart for this."

  "You are a couple of mean----"

  "Remembe
r, sir, you pay dearly for this," said Fogg.

  "--Rascally, pettifogging robbers!" continued Mr. Pickwick, taking notthe least notice of the threats that were addressed to him.

  "Robbers!" cried Mr. Pickwick, running to the stair-head, as the twoattorneys descended.

  "Robbers!" shouted Mr. Pickwick, breaking from Lowten and Perker andthrusting his head out of the staircase window.

  When Mr. Pickwick drew in his head again, his countenance was smilingand placid; and, walking quietly back into the office, he declaredthat he had now removed a great weight from his mind, and that he feltperfectly comfortable and happy.

  Perker said nothing at all until he had emptied his snuff-box, andsent Lowten out to fill it, when he was seized with a fit of laughing,which lasted five minutes; at the expiration of which time he said thathe supposed he ought to be very angry, but he couldn't think of thebusiness seriously yet--when he could, he would be.

  "Well, now," said Mr. Pickwick, "let me have a settlement with you."

  "Of the same kind as the last?" inquired Perker, with another laugh.

  "Not exactly," rejoined Mr. Pickwick, drawing out his pocket-book,and shaking the little man heartily by the hand, "I only mean apecuniary settlement. You have done me many acts of kindness that I cannever repay, and have no wish to repay, for I prefer continuing theobligation."

  With this preface, the two friends dived into some very complicatedaccounts and vouchers, which, having been duly displayed and gonethrough by Perker, were at once discharged by Mr. Pickwick with manyprofessions of esteem and friendship.

  They had no sooner arrived at this point, than a most violent andstartling knocking was heard at the door; it was not an ordinary doubleknock, but a constant and uninterrupted succession of the loudestsingle raps, as if the knocker were endowed with the perpetual motion,or the person outside had forgotten to leave off.

  "Dear me, what's that?" exclaimed Perker, starting.

  "I think it is a knock at the door," said Mr. Pickwick, as if therecould be the smallest doubt of the fact!

  The knocker made a more energetic reply than words could have yielded,for it continued to hammer with surprising force and noise, without amoment's cessation.

  "Dear me!" said Perker, ringing the bell, "we shall alarm the Inn. Mr.Lowten, don't you hear a knock?"

  "I'll answer the door in one moment, sir," replied the clerk.

  The knocker appeared to hear the response, and to assert that it wasquite impossible he could wait so long. It made a stupendous uproar.

  "It's quite dreadful," said Mr. Pickwick, stopping his ears.

  "Make haste, Mr. Lowten," Perker called out, "we shall have the panelsbeaten in."

  Mr. Lowten, who was washing his hands in a dark closet, hurried to thedoor, and turning the handle, beheld the appearance which is describedin the next chapter.