Before Mr. Pickwick could reply, before Mr. Perker had takenone twentieth part of the snuff with which so unusually long anaddress imperatively required to be followed up, there was a lowmurmuring of voices outside, and then a hesitating knock at the door.

'Dear, dear,' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who had been evidentlyroused by his 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 amengaged at this moment, Sam.'

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

'I can't see any lady,' replied Mr. Pickwick, whose mind wasfilled with visions of Mrs. Bardell.

'I wouldn't make too sure o' that, Sir,' urged Mr. Weller,shaking his head. 'If you know'd who was near, sir, I raytherthink you'd change your note; as the hawk remarked to himselfvith a cheerful laugh, ven he heerd 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 inhis hand as 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, drawup the curtain, and enter the two conspiraytors.'

As Sam Weller spoke, he threw the door open, and thererushed tumultuously into the room, Mr. Nathaniel Winkle,leading after him by the hand, the identical young lady who atDingley Dell had worn the boots with the fur round the tops, andwho, now a very pleasing compound of blushes and confusion,and lilac silk, and a smart bonnet, and a rich lace veil, lookedprettier 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,and perhaps would not have done so, but for the corroborativetestimony afforded by the smiling countenance of Perker, and thebodily presence, in the background, of Sam and the prettyhousemaid; who appeared to contemplate the proceedings withthe liveliest satisfaction.

'Oh, Mr. Pickwick!' said Arabella, in a low voice, as if alarmedat the silence. 'Can you forgive my imprudence?'

Mr. Pickwick returned no verbal response to this appeal; buthe took off his spectacles in great haste, and seizing both theyoung lady's hands in his, kissed her a great number of times--perhaps a greater number than was absolutely necessary--andthen, still retaining one of her hands, told Mr. Winkle he was anaudacious young dog, and bade him get up. This, Mr. Winkle,who had been for some seconds scratching his nose with the brimof his hat, in a penitent manner, did; whereupon Mr. Pickwickslapped 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 prettyhousemaid with right good-will, and, having wrung Mr, Winkle'shand most cordially, wound up his demonstrations of joy bytaking snuff enough to set any half-dozen men with ordinarily-constructed noses, a-sneezing for life.'Why, my dear girl,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'how has all this comeabout? Come! Sit down, and let me hear it all. How well shelooks, doesn't she, Perker?' added Mr. Pickwick, surveyingArabella's face with a look of as much pride and exultation, as ifshe 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.'Thus expressing himself, the little lawyer gave Mr. Winkle a pokein the chest, which that gentleman reciprocated; after which theyboth laughed very loudly, but not so loudly as Mr. SamuelWeller, who had just relieved his feelings by kissing the prettyhousemaid under cover of the cupboard door.

'I can never be grateful enough to you, Sam, I am sure,' saidArabella, with the sweetest smile imaginable. 'I shall not forgetyour exertions in the garden at Clifton.'

'Don't say nothin' wotever about it, ma'am,' replied Sam. 'Ionly assisted natur, ma'am; as the doctor said to the boy'smother, after he'd bled him to death.'

'Mary, my dear, sit down,' said Mr. Pickwick, cutting shortthese compliments. 'Now then; how long have you been married, eh?'

Arabella looked bashfully at her lord and master, whoreplied, 'Only three days.'

'Only three days, eh?' said Mr. Pickwick. 'Why, what have youbeen doing these three months?'

'Ah, to be sure!' interposed Perker; 'come, account for thisidleness. You see Mr. Pickwick's only astonishment is, that itwasn't all over, months ago.'

'Why the fact is,' replied Mr. Winkle, looking at his blushingyoung wife, 'that I could not persuade Bella to run away, for along time. And when I had persuaded her, it was a long timemore before we could find an opportunity. Mary had to give amonth's warning, too, before she could leave her place next door,and we couldn't possibly have done it without her assistance.''Upon my word,' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who by this timehad resumed his spectacles, and was looking from Arabella toWinkle, and from Winkle to Arabella, with as much delightdepicted in his countenance as warmheartedness and kindlyfeeling can communicate to the human face--'upon my word!you seem to have been very systematic in your proceedings. Andis your brother acquainted with all this, my dear?'

'Oh, no, no,' replied Arabella, changing colour. 'Dear Mr.Pickwick, he must only know it from you--from your lips alone.He is so violent, so prejudiced, and has been so--so anxious inbehalf of his friend, Mr, Sawyer,' added Arabella, looking down,'that I fear the consequences dreadfully.'

'Ah, to be sure,' said Perker gravely. 'You must take thismatter in hand for them, my dear sir. These young men willrespect you, when they would listen to nobody else. You mustprevent mischief, my dear Sir. Hot blood, hot blood.' And thelittle man took a warning pinch, and shook his head doubtfully.

'You forget, my love,' said Mr. Pickwick gently, 'you forgetthat I am a prisoner.'

'No, indeed I do not, my dear Sir,' replied Arabella. 'I neverhave forgotten it. I have never ceased to think how great yoursufferings must have been in this shocking place. But I hopedthat what no consideration for yourself would induce you to do,a regard to our happiness might. If my brother hears of this, first,from you, I feel certain we shall be reconciled. He is my onlyrelation 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 hid her face in her handkerchief, andwept bitterly.

Mr. Pickwick's nature was a good deal worked upon, by thesesame tears; but when Mrs. Winkle, drying her eyes, took tocoaxing and entreating in the sweetest tones of a very sweet voice,he became particularly restless, and evidently undecided how toact, as was evinced by sundry nervous rubbings of his spectacle-glasses, nose, tights, head, and gaiters.

Taking advantage of these symptoms of indecision, Mr. Perker(to whom, it appeared, the young couple had driven straight thatmorning) urged with legal point and shrewdness that Mr. Winkle,senior, was still unacquainted with the important rise in life'sflight of steps which his son had taken; that the future expectationsof the said son depended entirely upon the said Winkle,senior, continuing to regard him with undiminished feelings ofaffection and attachment, which it was very unlikely he would, ifthis great event were long kept a secret from him; that Mr. Pickwick,repairing to Bristol to seek Mr. Allen, might, with equalreason, repair to Birmingham to seek Mr. Winkle, senior; lastly,that Mr. Winkle, senior, had good right and title to considerMr. Pickwick as in some degree the guardian and adviser of hisson, and that it consequently behoved that gentleman, and wasindeed due to his personal character, to acquaint the aforesaidWinkle, senior, personally, and by word of mouth, with thewhole circumstances of the case, and with the share he had takenin the transaction.

Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass arrived, most opportunely, inthis stage of the pleadings, and as it was necessary to explain tothem all that had occurred, together with the various reasons proand con, the whole of the arguments were gone over again, afterwhich everybody urged every argument in his own way, and athis own length. And, at last, Mr. Pickwick, fairly argued andremonstrated out of all his resolutions, and being in imminentdanger of being argued and remonstrated out of his wits, caughtArabella in his arms, and declaring that she was a very amiablecreature, and that he didn't know how it was, but he had alwaysbeen very fond of her from the first, said he could never find it inhis 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 todespatch Job Trotter to the illustrious Mr. Pell, with an authorityto deliver to the bearer the formal discharge which his prudentparent had had the foresight to leave in the hands of that learnedgentleman, in case it should be, at any time, required on anemergency; his next proceeding was, to invest his whole stock ofready-money in the purchase of five-and-twenty gallons of mildporter, which he himself dispensed on the racket-ground toeverybody who would partake of it; this done, he hurra'd indivers parts of the building until he lost his voice, and thenquietly relapsed into his usual collected and philosophical condition.

At three o'clock that afternoon, Mr. Pickwick took a last lookat his little room, and made his way, as well as he could, throughthe throng of debtors who pressed eagerly forward to shake himby the hand, until he reached the lodge steps. He turned here, tolook about him, and his eye lightened as he did so. In all thecrowd of wan, emaciated faces, he saw not one which was nothappier for his sympathy and charity.

'Perker,' said Mr. Pickwick, beckoning one young mantowards him, 'this is Mr. Jingle, whom I spoke to you about.'

'Very good, my dear Sir,' replied Perker, looking hard atJingle. 'You will see me again, young man, to-morrow. I hopeyou may live to remember and feel deeply, what I shall have tocommunicate, Sir.'

Jingle bowed respectfully, trembled very much as he tookMr. Pickwick's proffered hand, and withdrew.

'Job you know, I think?' said Mr. Pickwick, presenting thatgentleman.

'I know the rascal,' replied Perker good-humouredly. 'See afteryour friend, and be in the way to-morrow at one. Do you hear?Now, is there anything more?'

'Nothing,' rejoined Mr. Pickwick. 'You have delivered thelittle parcel I gave you for your old landlord, Sam?'

'I have, Sir,' replied Sam. 'He bust out a-cryin', Sir, and saidyou wos wery gen'rous and thoughtful, and he only wished youcould have him innockilated for a gallopin' consumption, for hisold friend as had lived here so long wos dead, and he'd noweresto look for another.''Poor fellow, poor fellow!' said Mr. Pickwick. 'God bless you,my friends!'

As Mr. Pickwick uttered this adieu, the crowd raised a loudshout. Many among them were pressing forward to shake himby the hand again, when he drew his arm through Perker's, andhurried from the prison, far more sad and melancholy, for themoment, than when he had first entered it. Alas! how many sadand unhappy beings had he left behind!

A happy evening was that for at least one party in the Georgeand Vulture; and light and cheerful were two of the hearts thatemerged from its hospitable door next morning. The ownersthereof were Mr. Pickwick and Sam Weller, the former of whomwas speedily deposited inside a comfortable post-coach, with alittle dickey behind, in which the latter mounted with great agility.

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

'Well, Sam,' replied Mr. Pickwick, thrusting his head out ofthe window.

'I wish them horses had been three months and better in theFleet, Sir.'

'Why, Sam?' inquired Mr. Pickwick.

'Wy, Sir,' exclaimed Mr. Weller, rubbing his hands, 'how theywould go if they had been!'

CHAPTER XLVIIIRELATES HOW Mr. PICKWICK, WITH THE ASSISTANCEOF SAMUEL WELLER, ESSAYED TO SOFTEN THE HEARTOF Mr. BENJAMIN ALLEN, AND TO MOLLIFY THE WRATHOF Mr. ROBERT SAWYER

Mr. Ben Allen and Mr. Bob Sawyer sat together in the littlesurgery behind the shop, discussing minced veal and futureprospects, when the discourse, not unnaturally, turned uponthe practice acquired by Bob the aforesaid, and his present chancesof deriving a competent independence from the honourableprofession to which he had devoted himself.

'Which, I think,' observed Mr. Bob Sawyer, pursuing thethread of the subject--'which, I think, Ben, are rather dubious.'

'What's rather dubious?' inquired Mr. Ben Allen, at the sametime sharpening his intellect with a draught of beer. 'What's dubious?'

'Why, the chances,' responded Mr. Bob Sawyer.

'I forgot,' said Mr. Ben Allen. 'The beer has reminded me thatI forgot, Bob--yes; they ARE dubious.'

'It's wonderful how the poor people patronise me,' said Mr.Bob Sawyer reflectively. 'They knock me up, at all hours of thenight; they take medicine to an extent which I should haveconceived impossible; they put on blisters and leeches with aperseverance worthy of a better cause; they make additions totheir families, in a manner which is quite awful. Six of thoselast-named little promissory notes, all due on the same day, Ben,and all intrusted to me!'

Title: The Pickwick Papers
Author: Charles Dickens
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