'"Now then!" said a voice, as my uncle felt a hand on hisshoulder, "you're booked for one inside. You'd better get in."

'"I booked!" said my uncle, turning round.

'"Yes, certainly."

'My uncle, gentlemen, could say nothing, he was so very muchastonished. The queerest thing of all was that although there wassuch a crowd of persons, and although fresh faces were pouringin, every moment, there was no telling where they came from.They seemed to start up, in some strange manner, from theground, or the air, and disappear in the same way. When aporter had put his luggage in the coach, and received his fare, heturned round and was gone; and before my uncle had well begunto wonder what had become of him, half a dozen fresh onesstarted up, and staggered along under the weight of parcels,which seemed big enough to crush them. The passengers were alldressed so oddly too! Large, broad-skirted laced coats, withgreat cuffs and no collars; and wigs, gentlemen--great formalwigs with a tie behind. My uncle could make nothing of it.

'"Now, are you going to get in?" said the person who hadaddressed my uncle before. He was dressed as a mail guard, witha wig on his head and most enormous cuffs to his coat, and hada lantern in one hand, and a huge blunderbuss in the other,which he was going to stow away in his little arm-chest. "ARE yougoing to get in, Jack Martin?" said the guard, holding the lanternto my uncle's face.

'"Hollo!" said my uncle, falling back a step or two. "That's familiar!"

'"It's so on the way-bill," said the guard.

'"Isn't there a 'Mister' before it?" said my uncle. For he felt,gentlemen, that for a guard he didn't know, to call him JackMartin, was a liberty which the Post Office wouldn't havesanctioned if they had known it.

'"No, there is not," rejoined the guard coolly.

'"Is the fare paid?" inquired my uncle.

'"Of course it is," rejoined the guard.

'"it is, is it?" said my uncle. "Then here goes! Which coach?"

'"This," said the guard, pointing to an old-fashioned Edinburghand London mail, which had the steps down and the door open."Stop! Here are the other passengers. Let them get in first."

'As the guard spoke, there all at once appeared, right in frontof my uncle, a young gentleman in a powdered wig, and a sky-blue coat trimmed with silver, made very full and broad in theskirts, which were lined with buckram. Tiggin and Welps were inthe printed calico and waistcoat piece line, gentlemen, so myuncle knew all the materials at once. He wore knee breeches, anda kind of leggings rolled up over his silk stockings, and shoes withbuckles; he had ruffles at his wrists, a three-cornered hat on hishead, and a long taper sword by his side. The flaps of his waist-coat came half-way down his thighs, and the ends of his cravatreached to his waist. He stalked gravely to the coach door, pulledoff his hat, and held it above his head at arm's length, cocking hislittle finger in the air at the same time, as some affected peopledo, when they take a cup of tea. Then he drew his feet together,and made a low, grave bow, and then put out his left hand. Myuncle was just going to step forward, and shake it heartily, whenhe perceived that these attentions were directed, not towards him,but to a young lady who just then appeared at the foot of thesteps, attired in an old-fashioned green velvet dress with a longwaist and stomacher. She had no bonnet on her head, gentlemen,which was muffled in a black silk hood, but she looked round foran instant as she prepared to get into the coach, and such abeautiful face as she disclosed, my uncle had never seen--not evenin a picture. She got into the coach, holding up her dress with onehand; and as my uncle always said with a round oath, when hetold the story, he wouldn't have believed it possible that legs andfeet could have been brought to such a state of perfection unlesshe had seen them with his own eyes.

'But, in this one glimpse of the beautiful face, my uncle sawthat the young lady cast an imploring look upon him, and thatshe appeared terrified and distressed. He noticed, too, that theyoung fellow in the powdered wig, notwithstanding his show ofgallantry, which was all very fine and grand, clasped her tight bythe wrist when she got in, and followed himself immediatelyafterwards. An uncommonly ill-looking fellow, in a close brownwig, and a plum-coloured suit, wearing a very large sword, andboots up to his hips, belonged to the party; and when he sathimself down next to the young lady, who shrank into a cornerat his approach, my uncle was confirmed in his originalimpression that something dark and mysterious was going forward,or, as he always said himself, that "there was a screwloose somewhere." It's quite surprising how quickly he madeup his mind to help the lady at any peril, if she needed any help.

'"Death and lightning!" exclaimed the young gentleman,laying his hand upon his sword as my uncle entered the coach.

'"Blood and thunder!" roared the other gentleman. Withthis, he whipped his sword out, and made a lunge at my unclewithout further ceremony. My uncle had no weapon about him,but with great dexterity he snatched the ill-looking gentleman'sthree-cornered hat from his head, and, receiving the point of hissword right through the crown, squeezed the sides together, andheld it tight.

'"Pink him behind!" cried the ill-looking gentleman to hiscompanion, as he struggled to regain his sword.

'"He had better not," cried my uncle, displaying the heel ofone of his shoes, in a threatening manner. "I'll kick his brainsout, if he has any--, or fracture his skull if he hasn't." Exerting allhis strength, at this moment, my uncle wrenched the ill-lookingman's sword from his grasp, and flung it clean out of the coachwindow, upon which the younger gentleman vociferated, "Deathand lightning!" again, and laid his hand upon the hilt of hissword, in a very fierce manner, but didn't draw it. Perhaps,gentlemen, as my uncle used to say with a smile, perhaps he wasafraid of alarming the lady.

'"Now, gentlemen," said my uncle, taking his seat deliberately,"I don't want to have any death, with or without lightning,in a lady's presence, and we have had quite blood andthundering enough for one journey; so, if you please, we'll sit inour places like quiet insides. Here, guard, pick up thatgentleman's carving-knife."

'As quickly as my uncle said the words, the guard appeared atthe coach window, with the gentleman's sword in his hand. Heheld up his lantern, and looked earnestly in my uncle's face, ashe handed it in, when, by its light, my uncle saw, to his greatsurprise, that an immense crowd of mail-coach guards swarmedround the window, every one of whom had his eyes earnestlyfixed upon him too. He had never seen such a sea of white faces,red bodies, and earnest eyes, in all his born days.

'"This is the strangest sort of thing I ever had anything to dowith," thought my uncle; "allow me to return you your hat, sir."

'The ill-looking gentleman received his three-cornered hat insilence, looked at the hole in the middle with an inquiring air,and finally stuck it on the top of his wig with a solemnity theeffect of which was a trifle impaired by his sneezing violently atthe moment, and jerking it off again.

'"All right!" cried the guard with the lantern, mounting intohis little seat behind. Away they went. My uncle peeped out ofthe coach window as they emerged from the yard, and observedthat the other mails, with coachmen, guards, horses, andpassengers, complete, were driving round and round in circles, ata slow trot of about five miles an hour. My uncle burned withindignation, gentlemen. As a commercial man, he felt that themail-bags were not to be trifled with, and he resolved to memorialisethe Post Office on the subject, the very instant he reached London.

'At present, however, his thoughts were occupied with theyoung lady who sat in the farthest corner of the coach, with herface muffled closely in her hood; the gentleman with the sky-bluecoat sitting opposite to her; the other man in the plum-colouredsuit, by her side; and both watching her intently. If she so muchas rustled the folds of her hood, he could hear the ill-looking manclap his hand upon his sword, and could tell by the other'sbreathing (it was so dark he couldn't see his face) that he waslooking as big as if he were going to devour her at a mouthful.This roused my uncle more and more, and he resolved, comewhat might, to see the end of it. He had a great admiration forbright eyes, and sweet faces, and pretty legs and feet; in short, hewas fond of the whole sex. It runs in our family, gentleman--soam I.

'Many were the devices which my uncle practised, to attractthe lady's attention, or at all events, to engage the mysteriousgentlemen in conversation. They were all in vain; the gentlemenwouldn't talk, and the lady didn't dare. He thrust his head out ofthe coach window at intervals, and bawled out to know why theydidn't go faster. But he called till he was hoarse; nobody paid theleast attention to him. He leaned back in the coach, and thoughtof the beautiful face, and the feet and legs. This answered better;it whiled away the time, and kept him from wondering where hewas going, and how it was that he found himself in such an oddsituation. Not that this would have worried him much, anyway--he was a mighty free and easy, roving, devil-may-care sort ofperson, was my uncle, gentlemen.

'All of a sudden the coach stopped. "Hollo!" said my uncle,"what's in the wind now?"

'"Alight here," said the guard, letting down the steps.

'"Here!" cried my uncle.

'"Here," rejoined the guard.

'"I'll do nothing of the sort," said my uncle.

'"Very well, then stop where you are," said the guard.

'"I will," said my uncle.

'"Do," said the guard.

'The passengers had regarded this colloquy with great attention,and, finding that my uncle was determined not to alight,the younger man squeezed past him, to hand the lady out. At thismoment, the ill-looking man was inspecting the hole in the crownof his three-cornered hat. As the young lady brushed past, shedropped one of her gloves into my uncle's hand, and softlywhispered, with her lips so close to his face that he felt her warmbreath on his nose, the single word "Help!" Gentlemen, myuncle leaped out of the coach at once, with such violence that itrocked on the springs again.

'"Oh! you've thought better of it, have you?" said the guard,when he saw my uncle standing on the ground.

'My uncle looked at the guard for a few seconds, in somedoubt whether it wouldn't be better to wrench his blunderbussfrom him, fire it in the face of the man with the big sword, knockthe rest of the company over the head with the stock, snatch upthe young lady, and go off in the smoke. On second thoughts,however, he abandoned this plan, as being a shade toomelodramatic in the execution, and followed the two mysterious men,who, keeping the lady between them, were now entering an oldhouse in front of which the coach had stopped. They turned intothe passage, and my uncle followed.

'Of all the ruinous and desolate places my uncle had everbeheld, this was the most so. It looked as if it had once been alarge house of entertainment; but the roof had fallen in, in manyplaces, and the stairs were steep, rugged, and broken. There wasa huge fireplace in the room into which they walked, and thechimney was blackened with smoke; but no warm blaze lightedit up now. The white feathery dust of burned wood was stillstrewed over the hearth, but the stove was cold, and all was darkand gloomy.

'"Well," said my uncle, as he looked about him, "a mailtravelling at the rate of six miles and a half an hour, and stoppingfor an indefinite time at such a hole as this, is rather an irregularsort of proceeding, I fancy. This shall be made known. I'll writeto the papers."

'My uncle said this in a pretty loud voice, and in an open,unreserved sort of manner, with the view of engaging the twostrangers in conversation if he could. But, neither of them tookany more notice of him than whispering to each other, andscowling at him as they did so. The lady was at the farther end ofthe room, and once she ventured to wave her hand, as if beseechingmy uncle's assistance.

'At length the two strangers advanced a little, and theconversation began in earnest.

'"You don't know this is a private room, I suppose, fellow?"said the gentleman in sky-blue.

'"No, I do not, fellow," rejoined my uncle. "Only, if this is aprivate room specially ordered for the occasion, I should thinkthe public room must be a VERY comfortable one;" with this, myuncle sat himself down in a high-backed chair, and took such anaccurate measure of the gentleman, with his eyes, that Tiggin andWelps could have supplied him with printed calico for a suit, andnot an inch too much or too little, from that estimate alone.

'"Quit this room," said both men together, grasping their swords.

'"Eh?" said my uncle, not at all appearing to comprehendtheir meaning.

'"Quit the room, or you are a dead man," said the ill-lookingfellow with the large sword, drawing it at the same time andflourishing it in the air.

'"Down with him!" cried the gentleman in sky-blue, drawinghis sword also, and falling back two or three yards. "Downwith him!" The lady gave a loud scream.

'Now, my uncle was always remarkable for great boldness, andgreat presence of mind. All the time that he had appeared soindifferent to what was going on, he had been looking slily about forsome missile or weapon of defence, and at the very instant whenthe swords were drawn, he espied, standing in the chimney-corner, an old basket-hilted rapier in a rusty scabbard. At onebound, my uncle caught it in his hand, drew it, flourished itgallantly above his head, called aloud to the lady to keep out ofthe way, hurled the chair at the man in sky-blue, and the scabbardat the man in plum-colour, and taking advantage of theconfusion, fell upon them both, pell-mell.

Title: The Pickwick Papers
Author: Charles Dickens
Viewed 230473 times

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