'All right, old feller,' replied the embarrassed gentleman.

'Is the gray mare made over to anybody?' inquired Mr. Welleranxiously. George nodded in the affirmative.

'Vell, that's all right,' said Mr. Weller. 'Coach taken care on, also?'

'Con-signed in a safe quarter,' replied George, wringing theheads off half a dozen shrimps, and swallowing them without anymore ado.

'Wery good, wery good,' said Mr. Weller. 'Alvays see to thedrag ven you go downhill. Is the vay-bill all clear and straightfor'erd?'

'The schedule, sir,' said Pell, guessing at Mr. Weller's meaning,'the schedule is as plain and satisfactory as pen and ink canmake it.'

Mr. Weller nodded in a manner which bespoke his inwardapproval of these arrangements; and then, turning to Mr. Pell,said, pointing to his friend George--

'Ven do you take his cloths off?'

'Why,' replied Mr. Pell, 'he stands third on the opposed list,and I should think it would be his turn in about half an hour. Itold my clerk to come over and tell us when there was a chance.'

Mr. Weller surveyed the attorney from head to foot with greatadmiration, and said emphatically--

'And what'll you take, sir?'

'Why, really,' replied Mr. Pell, 'you're very-- Upon myword and honour, I'm not in the habit of-- It's so very earlyin the morning, that, actually, I am almost-- Well, you maybring me threepenn'orth of rum, my dear.'

The officiating damsel, who had anticipated the order before itwas given, set the glass of spirits before Pell, and retired.

'Gentlemen,' said Mr. Pell, looking round upon the company,'success to your friend! I don't like to boast, gentlemen; it's notmy way; but I can't help saying, that, if your friend hadn't beenfortunate enough to fall into hands that-- But I won't saywhat I was going to say. Gentlemen, my service to you.' Havingemptied the glass in a twinkling, Mr. Pell smacked his lips, andlooked complacently round on the assembled coachmen, whoevidently regarded him as a species of divinity.

'Let me see,' said the legal authority. 'What was I a-saying,gentlemen?'

'I think you was remarkin' as you wouldn't have no objectionto another o' the same, Sir,' said Mr. Weller, with grave facetiousness.'Ha, ha!' laughed Mr. Pell. 'Not bad, not bad. A professionalman, too! At this time of the morning, it would be rather toogood a-- Well, I don't know, my dear--you may do thatagain, if you please. Hem!'

This last sound was a solemn and dignified cough, in whichMr. Pell, observing an indecent tendency to mirth in some of hisauditors, considered it due to himself to indulge.

'The late Lord Chancellor, gentlemen, was very fond of me,'said Mr. Pell.

'And wery creditable in him, too,' interposed Mr. Weller.

'Hear, hear,' assented Mr. Pell's client. 'Why shouldn't he be?

'Ah! Why, indeed!' said a very red-faced man, who had saidnothing yet, and who looked extremely unlikely to say anythingmore. 'Why shouldn't he?'

A murmur of assent ran through the company.

'I remember, gentlemen,' said Mr. Pell, 'dining with him on oneoccasion; there was only us two, but everything as splendid as iftwenty people had been expected--the great seal on a dumb-waiter at his right hand, and a man in a bag-wig and suit ofarmour guarding the mace with a drawn sword and silk stockings--which is perpetually done, gentlemen, night and day; when hesaid, "Pell," he said, "no false delicacy, Pell. You're a man oftalent; you can get anybody through the Insolvent Court, Pell;and your country should be proud of you." Those were his verywords. "My Lord," I said, "you flatter me."--"Pell," he said,"if I do, I'm damned."'

'Did he say that?' inquired Mr. Weller.

'He did,' replied Pell.

'Vell, then,' said Mr. Weller, 'I say Parliament ought to ha'took it up; and if he'd been a poor man, they would ha' done it.'

'But, my dear friend,' argued Mr. Pell, 'it was in confidence.'

'In what?' said Mr. Weller.

'In confidence.'

'Oh! wery good,' replied Mr. Weller, after a little reflection.'If he damned hisself in confidence, o' course that was another thing.'

'Of course it was,' said Mr. Pell. 'The distinction's obvious, youwill perceive.'

'Alters the case entirely,' said Mr. Weller. 'Go on, Sir.''No, I will not go on, Sir,' said Mr. Pell, in a low and serioustone. 'You have reminded me, Sir, that this conversation wasprivate--private and confidential, gentlemen. Gentlemen, I am aprofessional man. It may be that I am a good deal looked up to,in my profession--it may be that I am not. Most people know. Isay nothing. Observations have already been made, in this room,injurious to the reputation of my noble friend. You will excuseme, gentlemen; I was imprudent. I feel that I have no right tomention this matter without his concurrence. Thank you, Sir;thank you.' Thus delivering himself, Mr. Pell thrust his handsinto his pockets, and, frowning grimly around, rattled three halfpencewith terrible determination.

This virtuous resolution had scarcely been formed, when theboy and the blue bag, who were inseparable companions, rushedviolently into the room, and said (at least the boy did, for theblue bag took no part in the announcement) that the case wascoming on directly. The intelligence was no sooner received thanthe whole party hurried across the street, and began to fight theirway into court--a preparatory ceremony, which has beencalculated to occupy, in ordinary cases, from twenty-five minutesto thirty.

Mr. Weller, being stout, cast himself at once into the crowd,with the desperate hope of ultimately turning up in some placewhich would suit him. His success was not quite equal to hisexpectations; for having neglected to take his hat off, it wasknocked over his eyes by some unseen person, upon whose toeshe had alighted with considerable force. Apparently thisindividual regretted his impetuosity immediately afterwards, for,muttering an indistinct exclamation of surprise, he dragged theold man out into the hall, and, after a violent struggle, releasedhis head and face.

'Samivel!' exclaimed Mr. Weller, when he was thus enabled tobehold his rescuer.

Sam nodded.

'You're a dutiful and affectionate little boy, you are, ain'tyou,' said Mr. Weller, 'to come a-bonnetin' your father in hisold age?'

'How should I know who you wos?' responded the son. 'Doyou s'pose I wos to tell you by the weight o' your foot?'

'Vell, that's wery true, Sammy,' replied Mr. Weller, mollifiedat once; 'but wot are you a-doin' on here? Your gov'nor can'tdo no good here, Sammy. They won't pass that werdick, theywon't pass it, Sammy.' And Mr. Weller shook his head withlegal solemnity.

'Wot a perwerse old file it is!' exclaimed Sam. 'always a-goin'on about werdicks and alleybis and that. Who said anythingabout the werdick?'

Mr. Weller made no reply, but once more shook his head most learnedly.

'Leave off rattlin' that 'ere nob o' yourn, if you don't want itto come off the springs altogether,' said Sam impatiently, 'andbehave reasonable. I vent all the vay down to the Markis o'Granby, arter you, last night.'

'Did you see the Marchioness o' Granby, Sammy?' inquiredMr. Weller, with a sigh.

'Yes, I did,' replied Sam.

'How wos the dear creetur a-lookin'?'

'Wery queer,' said Sam. 'I think she's a-injurin' herselfgradivally vith too much o' that 'ere pine-apple rum, and otherstrong medicines of the same natur.'

'You don't mean that, Sammy?' said the senior earnestly.

'I do, indeed,' replied the junior. Mr. Weller seized his son'shand, clasped it, and let it fall. There was an expression on hiscountenance in doing so--not of dismay or apprehension, butpartaking more of the sweet and gentle character of hope. Agleam of resignation, and even of cheerfulness, passed over hisface too, as he slowly said, 'I ain't quite certain, Sammy; Iwouldn't like to say I wos altogether positive, in case of anysubsekent disappointment, but I rayther think, my boy, I raytherthink, that the shepherd's got the liver complaint!'

'Does he look bad?' inquired Sam.

'He's uncommon pale,' replied his father, ''cept about thenose, which is redder than ever. His appetite is wery so-so, but heimbibes wonderful.'

Some thoughts of the rum appeared to obtrude themselves onMr. Weller's mind, as he said this; for he looked gloomy andthoughtful; but he very shortly recovered, as was testified by aperfect alphabet of winks, in which he was only wont to indulgewhen particularly pleased.

'Vell, now,' said Sam, 'about my affair. Just open them ears o'yourn, and don't say nothin' till I've done.' With this preface,Sam related, as succinctly as he could, the last memorableconversation he had had with Mr. Pickwick.

'Stop there by himself, poor creetur!' exclaimed the elderMr. Weller, 'without nobody to take his part! It can't be done,Samivel, it can't be done.'

'O' course it can't,' asserted Sam: 'I know'd that, afore I came.''Why, they'll eat him up alive, Sammy,'exclaimed Mr. Weller.

Sam nodded his concurrence in the opinion.

'He goes in rayther raw, Sammy,' said Mr. Weller metaphorically,'and he'll come out, done so ex-ceedin' brown, that his mostformiliar friends won't know him. Roast pigeon's nothin' to it, Sammy.'

Again Sam Weller nodded.

'It oughtn't to be, Samivel,' said Mr. Weller gravely.

'It mustn't be,' said Sam.

'Cert'nly not,' said Mr. Weller.

'Vell now,' said Sam, 'you've been a-prophecyin' away, weryfine, like a red-faced Nixon, as the sixpenny books gives picters on.'

'Who wos he, Sammy?' inquired Mr. Weller.

'Never mind who he was,' retorted Sam; 'he warn't a coachman;that's enough for you.''I know'd a ostler o' that name,' said Mr. Weller, musing.

'It warn't him,' said Sam. 'This here gen'l'm'n was a prophet.'

'Wot's a prophet?' inquired Mr. Weller, looking sternly on his son.

'Wy, a man as tells what's a-goin' to happen,' replied Sam.

'I wish I'd know'd him, Sammy,' said Mr. Weller. 'P'raps hemight ha' throw'd a small light on that 'ere liver complaint as wewos a-speakin' on, just now. Hows'ever, if he's dead, and ain'tleft the bisness to nobody, there's an end on it. Go on, Sammy,'said Mr. Weller, with a sigh.

'Well,' said Sam, 'you've been a-prophecyin' avay about wot'llhappen to the gov'ner if he's left alone. Don't you see any way o'takin' care on him?'

'No, I don't, Sammy,' said Mr. Weller, with a reflective visage.

'No vay at all?' inquired Sam.

'No vay,' said Mr. Weller, 'unless'--and a gleam of intelligencelighted up his countenance as he sank his voice to a whisper, andapplied his mouth to the ear of his offspring--'unless it is gettinghim out in a turn-up bedstead, unbeknown to the turnkeys,Sammy, or dressin' him up like a old 'ooman vith a greenwail.'

Sam Weller received both of these suggestions with unexpectedcontempt, and again propounded his question.

'No,' said the old gentleman; 'if he von't let you stop there, Isee no vay at all. It's no thoroughfare, Sammy, no thoroughfare.'

'Well, then, I'll tell you wot it is,' said Sam, 'I'll trouble youfor the loan of five-and-twenty pound.'

'Wot good'll that do?' inquired Mr. Weller.

'Never mind,' replied Sam. 'P'raps you may ask for it fiveminits arterwards; p'raps I may say I von't pay, and cut uprough. You von't think o' arrestin' your own son for the money,and sendin' him off to the Fleet, will you, you unnat'ral wagabone?'

At this reply of Sam's, the father and son exchanged acomplete code of telegraph nods and gestures, after which, the elderMr. Weller sat himself down on a stone step and laughed till hewas purple.

'Wot a old image it is!' exclaimed Sam, indignant at this lossof time. 'What are you a-settin' down there for, con-wertin' yourface into a street-door knocker, wen there's so much to be done.Where's the money?''In the boot, Sammy, in the boot,' replied Mr. Weller,composing his features. 'Hold my hat, Sammy.'

Having divested himself of this encumbrance, Mr. Weller gavehis body a sudden wrench to one side, and by a dexterous twist,contrived to get his right hand into a most capacious pocket,from whence, after a great deal of panting and exertion, heextricated a pocket-book of the large octavo size, fastened by ahuge leathern strap. From this ledger he drew forth a couple ofwhiplashes, three or four buckles, a little sample-bag of corn,and, finally, a small roll of very dirty bank-notes, from which heselected the required amount, which he handed over to Sam.

'And now, Sammy,' said the old gentleman, when the whip-lashes, and the buckles, and the samples, had been all put back,and the book once more deposited at the bottom of the samepocket, 'now, Sammy, I know a gen'l'm'n here, as'll do the resto' the bisness for us, in no time--a limb o' the law, Sammy, ashas got brains like the frogs, dispersed all over his body, andreachin' to the wery tips of his fingers; a friend of the LordChancellorship's, Sammy, who'd only have to tell him what hewanted, and he'd lock you up for life, if that wos all.'

Title: The Pickwick Papers
Author: Charles Dickens
Viewed 230341 times

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