'Yes, there is,' interposed the link-boy, 'I've been a-ringing atit ever so long.'

'It's only a handle,' said Mrs. Dowler, 'the wire's broken.'

'I wish the servants' heads wos,' growled the long man.

'I must trouble you to knock again, if you please,' said Mrs.Dowler, with the utmost politeness.

The short man did knock again several times, without producingthe smallest effect. The tall man, growing very impatient,then relieved him, and kept on perpetually knocking double-knocks of two loud knocks each, like an insane postman.

At length Mr. Winkle began to dream that he was at a club,and that the members being very refractory, the chairman wasobliged to hammer the table a good deal to preserve order; thenhe had a confused notion of an auction room where there wereno bidders, and the auctioneer was buying everything in; andultimately he began to think it just within the bounds of possibilitythat somebody might be knocking at the street door. Tomake quite certain, however, he remained quiet in bed for tenminutes or so, and listened; and when he had counted two orthree-and-thirty knocks, he felt quite satisfied, and gave himself agreat deal of credit for being so wakeful.

'Rap rap-rap rap-rap rap-ra, ra, ra, ra, ra, rap!' went the knocker.

Mr. Winkle jumped out of bed, wondering very much whatcould possibly be the matter, and hastily putting on his stockingsand slippers, folded his dressing-gown round him, lighted a flatcandle from the rush-light that was burning in the fireplace, andhurried downstairs.

'Here's somebody comin' at last, ma'am,' said theshort chairman.

'I wish I wos behind him vith a bradawl,' muttered the long one.

'Who's there?' cried Mr. Winkle, undoing the chain.

'Don't stop to ask questions, cast-iron head,' replied the longman, with great disgust, taking it for granted that the inquirer wasa footman; 'but open the door.'

'Come, look sharp, timber eyelids,' added the other encouragingly.

Mr. Winkle, being half asleep, obeyed the command mechanically,opened the door a little, and peeped out. The first thing hesaw, was the red glare of the link-boy's torch. Startled by thesudden fear that the house might be on fire, he hastily threw thedoor wide open, and holding the candle above his head, staredeagerly before him, not quite certain whether what he saw was asedan-chair or a fire-engine. At this instant there came a violentgust of wind; the light was blown out; Mr. Winkle felt himselfirresistibly impelled on to the steps; and the door blew to, witha loud crash.

'Well, young man, now you HAVE done it!' said the short chairman.

Mr. Winkle, catching sight of a lady's face at the window ofthe sedan, turned hastily round, plied the knocker with all hismight and main, and called frantically upon the chairman totake the chair away again.

'Take it away, take it away,' cried Mr. Winkle. 'Here's somebodycoming out of another house; put me into the chair. Hideme! Do something with me!'

All this time he was shivering with cold; and every time heraised his hand to the knocker, the wind took the dressing-gownin a most unpleasant manner.

'The people are coming down the crescent now. There areladies with 'em; cover me up with something. Stand before me!'roared Mr. Winkle. But the chairmen were too much exhaustedwith laughing to afford him the slightest assistance, and the ladieswere every moment approaching nearer and nearer.Mr. Winkle gave a last hopeless knock; the ladies were only afew doors off. He threw away the extinguished candle, which, allthis time he had held above his head, and fairly bolted into thesedan-chair where Mrs. Dowler was.

Now, Mrs. Craddock had heard the knocking and the voicesat last; and, only waiting to put something smarter on her headthan her nightcap, ran down into the front drawing-room to makesure that it was the right party. Throwing up the window-sashas Mr. Winkle was rushing into the chair, she no sooner caughtsight of what was going forward below, than she raised a vehementand dismal shriek, and implored Mr. Dowler to get updirectly, for his wife was running away with another gentleman.

Upon this, Mr. Dowler bounced off the bed as abruptly as anIndia-rubber ball, and rushing into the front room, arrived at onewindow just as Mr. Pickwick threw up the other, when the firstobject that met the gaze of both, was Mr. Winkle bolting into thesedan-chair.

'Watchman,' shouted Dowler furiously, 'stop him--hold him--keep him tight--shut him in, till I come down. I'll cut histhroat--give me a knife--from ear to ear, Mrs. Craddock--Iwill!' And breaking from the shrieking landlady, and from Mr.Pickwick, the indignant husband seized a small supper-knife, andtore into the street.But Mr. Winkle didn't wait for him. He no sooner heard thehorrible threat of the valorous Dowler, than he bounced out ofthe sedan, quite as quickly as he had bounced in, and throwingoff his slippers into the road, took to his heels and tore round thecrescent, hotly pursued by Dowler and the watchman. He keptahead; the door was open as he came round the second time; herushed in, slammed it in Dowler's face, mounted to his bedroom,locked the door, piled a wash-hand-stand, chest of drawers, and atable against it, and packed up a few necessaries ready for flightwith the first ray of morning.

Dowler came up to the outside of the door; avowed, throughthe keyhole, his steadfast determination of cutting Mr. Winkle'sthroat next day; and, after a great confusion of voices in thedrawing-room, amidst which that of Mr. Pickwick was distinctlyheard endeavouring to make peace, the inmates dispersed to theirseveral bed-chambers, and all was quiet once more.

It is not unlikely that the inquiry may be made, where Mr.Weller was, all this time? We will state where he was, in the nextchapter.

CHAPTER XXXVIIHONOURABLY ACCOUNTS FOR Mr. WELLER'S ABSENCE,BY DESCRIBING A SOIREE TO WHICH HE WAS INVITEDAND WENT; ALSO RELATES HOW HE WAS ENTRUSTED BYMr. PICKWICK WITH A PRIVATE MISSION OF DELICACYAND IMPORTANCE

'Mr. Weller,' said Mrs. Craddock, upon the morning of this veryeventful day, 'here's a letter for you.'

'Wery odd that,' said Sam; 'I'm afeerd there must be somethin'the matter, for I don't recollect any gen'l'm'n in my circle ofacquaintance as is capable o' writin' one.'

'Perhaps something uncommon has taken place,' observedMrs. Craddock.

'It must be somethin' wery uncommon indeed, as couldperduce a letter out o' any friend o' mine,' replied Sam, shakinghis head dubiously; 'nothin' less than a nat'ral conwulsion, as theyoung gen'l'm'n observed ven he wos took with fits. It can't befrom the gov'ner,' said Sam, looking at the direction. 'He alwaysprints, I know, 'cos he learnt writin' from the large bills in thebooking-offices. It's a wery strange thing now, where this hereletter can ha' come from.'

As Sam said this, he did what a great many people do whenthey are uncertain about the writer of a note--looked at the seal,and then at the front, and then at the back, and then at the sides,and then at the superscription; and, as a last resource, thoughtperhaps he might as well look at the inside, and try to find outfrom that.

'It's wrote on gilt-edged paper,' said Sam, as he unfolded it,'and sealed in bronze vax vith the top of a door key. Now for it.'And, with a very grave face, Mr. Weller slowly read as follows--

'A select company of the Bath footmen presents their complimentsto Mr. Weller, and requests the pleasure of his companythis evening, to a friendly swarry, consisting of a boiled leg ofmutton with the usual trimmings. The swarry to be on table athalf-past nine o'clock punctually.'

This was inclosed in another note, which ran thus--

'Mr. John Smauker, the gentleman who had the pleasure ofmeeting Mr. Weller at the house of their mutual acquaintance,Mr. Bantam, a few days since, begs to inclose Mr. Weller theherewith invitation. If Mr. Weller will call on Mr. John Smaukerat nine o'clock, Mr. John Smauker will have the pleasure ofintroducing Mr. Weller.(Signed) 'JOHN SMAUKER.'

The envelope was directed to blank Weller, Esq., at Mr. Pickwick's;and in a parenthesis, in the left hand corner, were thewords 'airy bell,' as an instruction to the bearer.

'Vell,' said Sam, 'this is comin' it rayther powerful, this is. Inever heerd a biled leg o' mutton called a swarry afore. I wonderwot they'd call a roast one.'

However, without waiting to debate the point, Sam at oncebetook himself into the presence of Mr. Pickwick, and requestedleave of absence for that evening, which was readily granted.With this permission and the street-door key, Sam Weller issuedforth a little before the appointed time, and strolled leisurelytowards Queen Square, which he no sooner gained than he hadthe satisfaction of beholding Mr. John Smauker leaning hispowdered head against a lamp-post at a short distance off,smoking a cigar through an amber tube.

'How do you do, Mr. Weller?' said Mr. John Smauker, raisinghis hat gracefully with one hand, while he gently waved the otherin a condescending manner. 'How do you do, Sir?'

'Why, reasonably conwalessent,' replied Sam. 'How do YOUfind yourself, my dear feller?'

'Only so so,' said Mr. John Smauker.

'Ah, you've been a-workin' too hard,' observed Sam. 'I wasfearful you would; it won't do, you know; you must not give wayto that 'ere uncompromisin' spirit o' yourn.'

'It's not so much that, Mr. Weller,' replied Mr. John Smauker,'as bad wine; I'm afraid I've been dissipating.'

'Oh! that's it, is it?' said Sam; 'that's a wery bad complaint, that.'

'And yet the temptation, you see, Mr. Weller,' observed Mr.John Smauker.

'Ah, to be sure,' said Sam.

'Plunged into the very vortex of society, you know, Mr.Weller,' said Mr. John Smauker, with a sigh.

'Dreadful, indeed!' rejoined Sam.

'But it's always the way,' said Mr. John Smauker; 'if yourdestiny leads you into public life, and public station, you mustexpect to be subjected to temptations which other people is freefrom, Mr. Weller.'

'Precisely what my uncle said, ven he vent into the public line,'remarked Sam, 'and wery right the old gen'l'm'n wos, for hedrank hisself to death in somethin' less than a quarter.'Mr. John Smauker looked deeply indignant at any parallelbeing drawn between himself and the deceased gentleman inquestion; but, as Sam's face was in the most immovable state ofcalmness, he thought better of it, and looked affable again.'Perhaps we had better be walking,' said Mr. Smauker,consulting a copper timepiece which dwelt at the bottom of a deepwatch-pocket, and was raised to the surface by means of a blackstring, with a copper key at the other end.

'P'raps we had,' replied Sam, 'or they'll overdo the swarry, andthat'll spile it.'

'Have you drank the waters, Mr. Weller?' inquired hiscompanion, as they walked towards High Street.

'Once,' replied Sam.

'What did you think of 'em, Sir?'

'I thought they was particklery unpleasant,' replied Sam.

'Ah,' said Mr. John Smauker, 'you disliked the killibeatetaste, perhaps?'

'I don't know much about that 'ere,' said Sam. 'I thoughtthey'd a wery strong flavour o' warm flat irons.'

'That IS the killibeate, Mr. Weller,' observed Mr. John Smaukercontemptuously.

'Well, if it is, it's a wery inexpressive word, that's all,' saidSam. 'It may be, but I ain't much in the chimical line myself, soI can't say.' And here, to the great horror of Mr. John Smauker,Sam Weller began to whistle.

'I beg your pardon, Mr. Weller,' said Mr. John Smauker,agonised at the exceeding ungenteel sound, 'will you take my arm?'

'Thank'ee, you're wery good, but I won't deprive you of it,'replied Sam. 'I've rayther a way o' putting my hands in mypockets, if it's all the same to you.' As Sam said this, he suitedthe action to the word, and whistled far louder than before.

'This way,' said his new friend, apparently much relieved asthey turned down a by-street; 'we shall soon be there.'

'Shall we?' said Sam, quite unmoved by the announcement ofhis close vicinity to the select footmen of Bath.

'Yes,' said Mr. John Smauker. 'Don't be alarmed, Mr. Weller.'

'Oh, no,' said Sam.

'You'll see some very handsome uniforms, Mr. Weller,' continuedMr. John Smauker; 'and perhaps you'll find some of thegentlemen rather high at first, you know, but they'll soon come round.'

'That's wery kind on 'em,' replied Sam.'And you know,' resumed Mr. John Smauker, with an air ofsublime protection--'you know, as you're a stranger, perhaps,they'll be rather hard upon you at first.'

'They won't be wery cruel, though, will they?' inquired Sam.

'No, no,' replied Mr. John Smauker, pulling forth the fox'shead, and taking a gentlemanly pinch. 'There are some funnydogs among us, and they will have their joke, you know; but youmustn't mind 'em, you mustn't mind 'em.'

'I'll try and bear up agin such a reg'lar knock down o' talent,'replied Sam.

'That's right,' said Mr. John Smauker, putting forth his fox'shead, and elevating his own; 'I'll stand by you.'

By this time they had reached a small greengrocer's shop,which Mr. John Smauker entered, followed by Sam, who, themoment he got behind him, relapsed into a series of the verybroadest and most unmitigated grins, and manifested otherdemonstrations of being in a highly enviable state of inward merriment.

Title: The Pickwick Papers
Author: Charles Dickens
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