Mr. Whiffers's address was responded to, with a shout ofadmiration, and the health of the interesting martyr was drunkin a most enthusiastic manner; for this, the martyr returnedthanks, and proposed their visitor, Mr. Weller--a gentlemanwhom he had not the pleasure of an intimate acquaintance with,but who was the friend of Mr. John Smauker, which was asufficient letter of recommendation to any society of gentlemenwhatever, or wherever. On this account, he should have beendisposed to have given Mr. Weller's health with all the honours,if his friends had been drinking wine; but as they were takingspirits by way of a change, and as it might be inconvenient toempty a tumbler at every toast, he should propose that thehonours be understood.

At the conclusion of this speech, everybody took a sip inhonour of Sam; and Sam having ladled out, and drunk, two fullglasses of punch in honour of himself, returned thanks in a neat speech.

'Wery much obliged to you, old fellers,' said Sam, ladlingaway at the punch in the most unembarrassed manner possible,'for this here compliment; which, comin' from sich a quarter, iswery overvelmin'. I've heered a good deal on you as a body, butI will say, that I never thought you was sich uncommon nice menas I find you air. I only hope you'll take care o' yourselves, andnot compromise nothin' o' your dignity, which is a wery charmin'thing to see, when one's out a-walkin', and has always made mewery happy to look at, ever since I was a boy about half as highas the brass-headed stick o' my wery respectable friend, Blazes,there. As to the wictim of oppression in the suit o' brimstone, allI can say of him, is, that I hope he'll get jist as good a berth as hedeserves; in vitch case it's wery little cold swarry as ever he'll betroubled with agin.'

Here Sam sat down with a pleasant smile, and his speechhaving been vociferously applauded, the company broke up.

'Wy, you don't mean to say you're a-goin' old feller?' saidSam Weller to his friend, Mr. John Smauker.

'I must, indeed,' said Mr. Smauker; 'I promised Bantam.'

'Oh, wery well,' said Sam; 'that's another thing. P'raps he'dresign if you disappinted him. You ain't a-goin', Blazes?'

'Yes, I am,' said the man with the cocked hat.

'Wot, and leave three-quarters of a bowl of punch behindyou!' said Sam; 'nonsense, set down agin.'

Mr. Tuckle was not proof against this invitation. He laid asidethe cocked hat and stick which he had just taken up, and said hewould have one glass, for good fellowship's sake.

As the gentleman in blue went home the same way as Mr.Tuckle, he was prevailed upon to stop too. When the punch wasabout half gone, Sam ordered in some oysters from the green-grocer's shop; and the effect of both was so extremely exhilarating,that Mr. Tuckle, dressed out with the cocked hat and stick,danced the frog hornpipe among the shells on the table, while thegentleman in blue played an accompaniment upon an ingeniousmusical instrument formed of a hair-comb upon a curl-paper.At last, when the punch was all gone, and the night nearly so,they sallied forth to see each other home. Mr. Tuckle no soonergot into the open air, than he was seized with a sudden desire tolie on the curbstone; Sam thought it would be a pity to contradicthim, and so let him have his own way. As the cocked hat wouldhave been spoiled if left there, Sam very considerately flattened itdown on the head of the gentleman in blue, and putting the bigstick in his hand, propped him up against his own street-door,rang the bell, and walked quietly home.

At a much earlier hour next morning than his usual time ofrising, Mr. Pickwick walked downstairs completely dressed, andrang the bell.

'Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, when Mr. Weller appeared in replyto the summons, 'shut the door.'

Mr. Weller did so.

'There was an unfortunate occurrence here, last night, Sam,'said Mr. Pickwick, 'which gave Mr. Winkle some cause toapprehend violence from Mr. Dowler.'

'So I've heerd from the old lady downstairs, Sir,' replied Sam.

'And I'm sorry to say, Sam,' continued Mr. Pickwick, with amost perplexed countenance, 'that in dread of this violence,Mr. Winkle has gone away.'

'Gone avay!' said Sam.

'Left the house early this morning, without the slightestprevious communication with me,' replied Mr. Pickwick. 'Andis gone, I know not where.'

'He should ha' stopped and fought it out, Sir,' replied Samcontemptuously. 'It wouldn't take much to settle that 'ereDowler, Sir.'

'Well, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'I may have my doubts of hisgreat bravery and determination also. But however that may be,Mr. Winkle is gone. He must be found, Sam. Found and broughtback to me.''And s'pose he won't come back, Sir?' said Sam.

'He must be made, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick.

'Who's to do it, Sir?' inquired Sam, with a smile.

'You,' replied Mr. Pickwick.

'Wery good, Sir.'

With these words Mr. Weller left the room, and immediatelyafterwards was heard to shut the street door. In two hours' timehe returned with so much coolness as if he had been despatchedon the most ordinary message possible, and brought the informationthat an individual, in every respect answering Mr. Winkle'sdescription, had gone over to Bristol that morning, by the branchcoach from the Royal Hotel.

'Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, grasping his hand, 'you're a capitalfellow; an invaluable fellow. You must follow him, Sam.'

'Cert'nly, Sir,' replied Mr. Weller.

'The instant you discover him, write to me immediately, Sam,'said Mr. Pickwick. 'If he attempts to run away from you, knockhim down, or lock him up. You have my full authority, Sam.'

'I'll be wery careful, sir,' rejoined Sam.

'You'll tell him,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'that I am highly excited,highly displeased, and naturally indignant, at the veryextraordinary course he has thought proper to pursue.'

'I will, Sir,' replied Sam.

'You'll tell him,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'that if he does not comeback to this very house, with you, he will come back with me, forI will come and fetch him.'

'I'll mention that 'ere, Sir,' rejoined Sam.

'You think you can find him, Sam?' said Mr. Pickwick, lookingearnestly in his face.

'Oh, I'll find him if he's anyvere,' rejoined Sam, withgreat confidence.

'Very well,' said Mr. Pickwick. 'Then the sooner you go thebetter.'

With these instructions, Mr. Pickwick placed a sum of moneyin the hands of his faithful servitor, and ordered him to start forBristol immediately, in pursuit of the fugitive.

Sam put a few necessaries in a carpet-bag, and was ready forstarting. He stopped when he had got to the end of the passage,and walking quietly back, thrust his head in at the parlour door.

'Sir,' whispered Sam.

'Well, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick.

'I fully understands my instructions, do I, Sir?' inquired Sam.

'I hope so,' said Mr. Pickwick.

'It's reg'larly understood about the knockin' down, is it, Sir?'inquired Sam.

'Perfectly,' replied Pickwick. 'Thoroughly. Do what you thinknecessary. You have my orders.'

Sam gave a nod of intelligence, and withdrawing his headfrom the door, set forth on his pilgrimage with a light heart.

CHAPTER XXXVIIIHOW Mr. WINKLE, WHEN HE STEPPED OUT OF THEFRYING-PAN, WALKED GENTLY AND COMFORTABLY INTOTHE FIRE

The ill-starred gentleman who had been the unfortunate cause ofthe unusual noise and disturbance which alarmed the inhabitants ofthe Royal Crescent in manner and form already described, afterpassing a night of great confusion and anxiety, left the roofbeneath which his friends still slumbered, bound he knew not whither.The excellent and considerate feelings which prompted Mr. Winkle totake this step can never be too highly appreciated or too warmlyextolled. 'If,' reasoned Mr. Winkle with himself--'if this Dowlerattempts (as I have no doubt he will) to carry into execution histhreat of personal violence against myself, it will be incumbent on meto call him out. He has a wife; that wife is attached to, anddependent on him. Heavens! If I should kill him in the blindness of mywrath, what would be my feelings ever afterwards!' This painfulconsideration operated so powerfully on the feelings of the humaneyoung man, as to cause his knees to knock together, and hiscountenance to exhibit alarming manifestations of inwardemotion. Impelled by such reflections, he grasped his carpet-bag, and creeping stealthily downstairs, 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, andreached his place of destination in such time as the pair of horses,who went the whole stage and back again, twice a day or more,could be reasonably supposed to arrive there.He took up his quarters at the Bush, and designing to postponeany communication by letter with Mr. Pickwick until it wasprobable that Mr. Dowler's wrath might have in some degreeevaporated, walked forth to view the city, which struck him asbeing a shade more dirty than any place he had ever seen. Havinginspected the docks and shipping, and viewed the cathedral, heinquired his way to Clifton, and being directed thither, took theroute which was pointed out to him. But as the pavements ofBristol are not the widest or cleanest upon earth, so its streets arenot altogether the straightest or least intricate; and Mr. Winkle,being greatly puzzled by their manifold windings and twistings,looked about him for a decent shop in which he could applyafresh for counsel and instruction.

His eye fell upon a newly-painted tenement which had beenrecently converted into something between a shop and a privatehouse, and which a red lamp, projecting over the fanlight of thestreet door, would have sufficiently announced as the residenceof a medical practitioner, even if the word 'Surgery' had not beeninscribed in golden characters on a wainscot ground, above thewindow of what, in times bygone, had been the front parlour.Thinking this an eligible place wherein to make his inquiries,Mr. Winkle stepped into the little shop where the gilt-labelleddrawers and bottles were; and finding nobody there, knockedwith a half-crown on the counter, to attract the attention of anybodywho might happen to be in the back parlour, which hejudged to be the innermost and peculiar sanctum of the establishment,from the repetition of the word surgery on the door--painted in white letters this 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 greenspectacles, with a very large book in his hand, glided quietly intothe shop, and stepping behind the counter, requested to know thevisitor's pleasure.

'I am sorry to trouble you, Sir,' said Mr. Winkle, 'but will youhave the goodness to direct me to--'

'Ha! ha! ha!' roared the studious young gentleman, throwingthe large book up into the air, and catching it with great dexterityat the very moment when it threatened to smash to atoms all thebottles on the counter. 'Here's a start!'

There was, without doubt; for Mr. Winkle was so very muchastonished at the extraordinary behaviour of the medical gentleman,that he involuntarily retreated towards the door, and lookedvery much disturbed at his 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 forme yet; I may attend half the old women in Bristol, if I've decentluck. Get out, you mouldy old villain, get out!' With this adjuration,which was addressed to the large book, the medical gentlemankicked the volume with remarkable agility to the farther endof the shop, and, pulling off his green spectacles, grinnedthe identical grin of Robert Sawyer, Esquire, formerly of Guy'sHospital in the Borough, with a private residence in Lant Street.

'You don't mean to say you weren't down upon me?' saidMr. Bob Sawyer, shaking Mr. Winkle's hand with friendly warmth.

'Upon my word I was not,' replied Mr. Winkle, returninghis pressure.

'I wonder you didn't see the name,' said Bob Sawyer, callinghis friend's attention to the outer door, on which, in the samewhite paint, 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,and caught you in my arms,' said Bob Sawyer; 'but upon mylife, I thought you were the King's-taxes.'

'No!' said Mr. Winkle.

'I did, indeed,' responded Bob Sawyer, 'and I was just going tosay that I wasn't at home, but if you'd leave a message I'd be sureto give it to myself; for he don't know me; no more does theLighting and Paving. I think the Church-rates guesses who I am,and I know the Water-works does, because I drew a tooth of hiswhen I first came down here. But come in, come in!' Chatteringin this way, Mr. Bob Sawyer pushed Mr. Winkle into the backroom, where, amusing himself by boring little circular caverns inthe chimney-piece with a red-hot poker, sat no less a person thanMr. Benjamin Allen.

'Well!' said Mr. Winkle. 'This is indeed a pleasure I did notexpect. What a very nice place you have here!'

'Pretty well, pretty well,' replied Bob Sawyer. 'I PASSED, soonafter that precious party, and my friends came down with theneedful for this business; so I put on a black suit of clothes, anda pair of spectacles, and came here to look as solemn as I could.'

Title: The Pickwick Papers
Author: Charles Dickens
Viewed 262640 times

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