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  CHAPTER XXXVIII. HOW MR. WINKLE, WHEN HE STEPPED OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN,WALKED GENTLY AND COMFORTABLY INTO THE FIRE

  The ill-starred gentleman who had been the unfortunate cause of theunusual noise and disturbance which alarmed the inhabitants of the RoyalCrescent in manner and form already described, after passing a night ofgreat confusion and anxiety, left the roof beneath which his friendsstill slumbered, bound he knew not whither. The excellent andconsiderate feelings which prompted Mr. Winkle to take this step cannever be too highly appreciated or too warmly extolled. 'If,' reasonedMr. Winkle with himself--'if this Dowler attempts (as I have no doubt hewill) to carry into execution his threat of personal violence againstmyself, it will be incumbent on me to call him out. He has a wife; thatwife is attached to, and dependent on him. Heavens! If I should kill himin the blindness of my wrath, what would be my feelings everafterwards!' This painful consideration operated so powerfully on thefeelings of the humane young man, as to cause his knees to knocktogether, and his countenance to exhibit alarming manifestations ofinward emotion. Impelled by such reflections, he grasped his carpet-bag,and creeping stealthily downstairs, shut the detestable street door withas little noise as possible, and walked off. Bending his steps towardsthe Royal Hotel, he found a coach on the point of starting for Bristol,and, thinking Bristol as good a place for his purpose as any other hecould go to, he mounted the box, and reached his place of destination insuch time as the pair of horses, who went the whole stage and backagain, twice a day or more, could be reasonably supposed to arrivethere.

  He took up his quarters at the Bush, and designing to postpone anycommunication by letter with Mr. Pickwick until it was probable that Mr.Dowler's wrath might have in some degree evaporated, walked forth toview the city, which struck him as being a shade more dirty than anyplace he had ever seen. Having inspected the docks and shipping, andviewed the cathedral, he inquired his way to Clifton, and being directedthither, took the route which was pointed out to him. But as thepavements of Bristol are not the widest or cleanest upon earth, so itsstreets are not 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 apply afresh forcounsel and instruction.

  His eye fell upon a newly-painted tenement which had been recentlyconverted into something between a shop and a private house, and which ared lamp, projecting over the fanlight of the street door, would havesufficiently announced as the residence of a medical practitioner, evenif the word 'Surgery' had not been inscribed in golden characters on awainscot ground, above the window of what, in times bygone, had been thefront parlour. Thinking this an eligible place wherein to make hisinquiries, Mr. Winkle stepped into the little shop where the gilt-labelled drawers 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 he judged to be theinnermost and peculiar sanctum of the establishment, from the repetitionof the word surgery on the door--painted in white letters this time, byway 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, astudious-looking young gentleman in green spectacles, with a very largebook in his hand, glided quietly into the shop, and stepping behind thecounter, requested to know the visitor's pleasure.

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

  'Ha! ha! ha!' roared the studious young gentleman, throwing the largebook up into the air, and catching it with great dexterity at the verymoment when it threatened to smash to atoms all the bottles on thecounter. 'Here's a start!'

  There was, without doubt; for Mr. Winkle was so very much astonished atthe extraordinary behaviour of the medical gentleman, that heinvoluntarily retreated towards the door, and looked very much disturbedat 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 for me yet; Imay attend half the old women in Bristol, if I've decent luck. Get out,you mouldy old villain, get out!' With this adjuration, which wasaddressed to the large book, the medical gentleman kicked the volumewith remarkable agility to the farther end of the shop, and, pulling offhis green spectacles, grinned the identical grin of Robert Sawyer,Esquire, formerly of Guy's Hospital in the Borough, with a privateresidence in Lant Street.

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

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

  'I wonder you didn't see the name,' said Bob Sawyer, calling hisfriend's attention to the outer door, on which, in the same white 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 caughtyou in my arms,' said Bob Sawyer; 'but upon my life, I thought you werethe King's-taxes.'

  'No!' said Mr. Winkle.

  'I did, indeed,' responded Bob Sawyer, 'and I was just going to say thatI wasn't at home, but if you'd leave a message I'd be sure to give it tomyself; for he don't know me; no more does the Lighting and Paving. Ithink the Church-rates guesses who I am, and I know the Water-worksdoes, because I drew a tooth of his when I first came down here. Butcome in, come in!' Chattering in this way, Mr. Bob Sawyer pushed Mr.Winkle into the back room, where, amusing himself by boring littlecircular caverns in the chimney-piece with a red-hot poker, sat no lessa person than Mr. Benjamin Allen.

  'Well!' said Mr. Winkle. 'This is indeed a pleasure I did not expect.What a very nice place you have here!'

  'Pretty well, pretty well,' replied Bob Sawyer. 'I _passed_, soon afterthat precious party, and my friends came down with the needful for thisbusiness; so I put on a black suit of clothes, and a pair of spectacles,and came here to look as solemn as I could.'

  'And a very snug little business you have, no doubt?' said Mr. Winkleknowingly.

  'Very,' replied Bob Sawyer. 'So snug, that at the end of a few years youmight put all the profits in a wine-glass, and cover 'em over with agooseberry leaf.'

  You cannot surely mean that?' said Mr. Winkle. 'The stock itself--'

  Dummies, my dear boy,' said Bob Sawyer; 'half the drawers have nothingin 'em, and the other half don't open.'

  'Nonsense!' said Mr. Winkle.

  'Fact--honour!' returned Bob Sawyer, stepping out into the shop, anddemonstrating the veracity of the assertion by divers hard pulls at thelittle gilt knobs on the counterfeit drawers. 'Hardly anything real inthe shop but the leeches, and _they _are second-hand.'

  'I shouldn't have thought it!' exclaimed Mr. Winkle, much surprised.

  'I hope not,' replied Bob Sawyer, 'else where's the use of appearances,eh? But what will you take? Do as we do? That's right. Ben, my finefellow, put your hand into the cupboard, and bring out the patentdigester.'

  Mr. Benjamin Allen smiled his readiness, and produced from the closet athis elbow a black bottle half full of brandy.

  'You don't take water, of course?' said Bob Sawyer.

  'Thank you,' replied Mr. Winkle. 'It's rather early. I should like toqualify it, if you have no objection.'

  'None in the least, if you can reconcile it to your conscience,' repliedBob Sawyer, tossing off, as he spoke, a glass of the liquor with greatrelish. 'Ben, the pipkin!'

  Mr. Benjamin Allen drew forth, from the same hiding-place, a small brasspipkin, which Bob Sawyer observed he prided himself upon, particularlybecause it looked so business-like. The water in the professional pipkinhaving been made to boil, in course of time, by various littleshovelfuls of coal, which Mr. Bob Sawyer took out of a practicablewindow-seat, labelled 'Soda Water,' Mr. Winkle adulterated his brandy;and the conversation was beco
ming general, when it was interrupted bythe entrance into the shop of a boy, in a sober gray livery and a gold-laced hat, with a small covered basket under his arm, whom Mr. BobSawyer immediately hailed with, 'Tom, you vagabond, come here.'

  The boy presented himself accordingly.

  'You've been stopping to "over" all the posts in Bristol, you idle youngscamp!' said Mr. Bob Sawyer.

  'No, sir, I haven't,' replied the boy.

  'You had better not!' said Mr. Bob Sawyer, with a threatening aspect.'Who do you suppose will ever employ a professional man, when they seehis boy playing at marbles in the gutter, or flying the garter in thehorse-road? Have you no feeling for your profession, you groveller? Didyou leave all the medicine?'

  Yes, Sir.'

  'The powders for the child, at the large house with the new family, andthe pills to be taken four times a day at the ill-tempered oldgentleman's with the gouty leg?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'Then shut the door, and mind the shop.'

  'Come,' said Mr. Winkle, as the boy retired, 'things are not quite sobad as you would have me believe, either. There is _some _medicine to besent out.'

  Mr. Bob Sawyer peeped into the shop to see that no stranger was withinhearing, and leaning forward to Mr. Winkle, said, in a low tone--

  'He leaves it all at the wrong houses.'

  Mr. Winkle looked perplexed, and Bob Sawyer and his friend laughed.

  'Don't you see?' said Bob. 'He goes up to a house, rings the area bell,pokes a packet of medicine without a direction into the servant's hand,and walks off. Servant takes it into the dining-parlour; master opensit, and reads the label: "Draught to be taken at bedtime--pills asbefore--lotion as usual--the powder. From Sawyer's, late Nockemorf's.Physicians' prescriptions carefully prepared," and all the rest of it.Shows it to his wife--she reads the label; it goes down to the servants--_they_ read the label. Next day, boy calls: "Very sorry--his mistake--immense business--great many parcels to deliver--Mr. Sawyer'scompliments--late Nockemorf." The name gets known, and that's the thing,my boy, in the medical way. Bless your heart, old fellow, it's betterthan all the advertising in the world. We have got one four-ounce bottlethat's been to half the houses in Bristol, and hasn't done yet.'

  'Dear me, I see,' observed Mr. Winkle; 'what an excellent plan!'

  'Oh, Ben and I have hit upon a dozen such,' replied Bob Sawyer, withgreat glee. 'The lamplighter has eighteenpence a week to pull the night-bell for ten minutes every time he comes round; and my boy always rushesinto the church just before the psalms, when the people have got nothingto do but look about 'em, and calls me out, with horror and dismaydepicted on his countenance. "Bless my soul," everybody says, "somebodytaken suddenly ill! Sawyer, late Nockemorf, sent for. What a businessthat young man has!"'

  At the termination of this disclosure of some of the mysteries ofmedicine, Mr. Bob Sawyer and his friend, Ben Allen, threw themselvesback in their respective chairs, and laughed boisterously. When they hadenjoyed the joke to their heart's content, the discourse changed totopics in which Mr. Winkle was more immediately interested.

  We think we have hinted elsewhere, that Mr. Benjamin Allen had a way ofbecoming sentimental after brandy. The case is not a peculiar one, as weourself can testify, having, on a few occasions, had to deal withpatients who have been afflicted in a similar manner. At this preciseperiod of his existence, Mr. Benjamin Allen had perhaps a greaterpredisposition to maudlinism than he had ever known before; the cause ofwhich malady was briefly this. He had been staying nearly three weekswith Mr. Bob Sawyer; Mr. Bob Sawyer was not remarkable for temperance,nor was Mr. Benjamin Allen for the ownership of a very strong head; theconsequence was that, during the whole space of time just mentioned, Mr.Benjamin Allen had been wavering between intoxication partial, andintoxication complete.

  'My dear friend,' said Mr. Ben Allen, taking advantage of Mr. BobSawyer's temporary absence behind the counter, whither he had retired todispense some of the second-hand leeches, previously referred to; 'mydear friend, I am very miserable.'

  Mr. Winkle professed his heartfelt regret to hear it, and begged to knowwhether he could do anything to alleviate the sorrows of the sufferingstudent.

  'Nothing, my dear boy, nothing,' said Ben. 'You recollect Arabella,Winkle? My sister Arabella--a little girl, Winkle, with black eyes--whenwe were down at Wardle's? I don't know whether you happened to noticeher--a nice little girl, Winkle. Perhaps my features may recall hercountenance to your recollection?'

  Mr. Winkle required nothing to recall the charming Arabella to his mind;and it was rather fortunate he did not, for the features of her brotherBenjamin would unquestionably have proved but an indifferent refresherto his memory. He answered, with as much calmness as he could assume,that he perfectly remembered the young lady referred to, and sincerelytrusted she was in good health.

  'Our friend Bob is a delightful fellow, Winkle,' was the only reply ofMr. Ben Allen.

  'Very,' said Mr. Winkle, not much relishing this close connection of thetwo names.

  'I designed 'em for each other; they were made for each other, sent intothe world for each other, born for each other, Winkle,' said Mr. BenAllen, setting down his glass with emphasis. 'There's a special destinyin the matter, my dear sir; there's only five years' difference between'em, and both their birthdays are in August.'

  Mr. Winkle was too anxious to hear what was to follow to express muchwonderment at this extraordinary coincidence, marvellous as it was; soMr. Ben Allen, after a tear or two, went on to say that, notwithstandingall his esteem and respect and veneration for his friend, Arabella hadunaccountably and undutifully evinced the most determined antipathy tohis person.

  'And I think,' said Mr. Ben Allen, in conclusion. 'I think there's aprior attachment.'

  'Have you any idea who the object of it might be?' asked Mr. Winkle,with great trepidation.

  Mr. Ben Allen seized the poker, flourished it in a warlike manner abovehis head, inflicted a savage blow on an imaginary skull, and wound up bysaying, in a very expressive manner, that he only wished he could guess;that was all.

  'I'd show him what I thought of him,' said Mr. Ben Allen. And round wentthe poker again, more fiercely than before.

  All this was, of course, very soothing to the feelings of Mr. Winkle,who remained silent for a few minutes; but at length mustered upresolution to inquire whether Miss Allen was in Kent.

  'No, no,' said Mr. Ben Allen, laying aside the poker, and looking verycunning; 'I didn't think Wardle's exactly the place for a headstronggirl; so, as I am her natural protector and guardian, our parents beingdead, I have brought her down into this part of the country to spend afew months at an old aunt's, in a nice, dull, close place. I think thatwill cure her, my boy. If it doesn't, I'll take her abroad for a littlewhile, and see what that'll do.'

  'Oh, the aunt's is in Bristol, is it?' faltered Mr. Winkle.

  'No, no, not in Bristol,' replied Mr. Ben Allen, jerking his thumb overhis right shoulder; 'over that way--down there. But, hush, here's Bob.Not a word, my dear friend, not a word.'

  Short as this conversation was, it roused in Mr. Winkle the highestdegree of excitement and anxiety. The suspected prior attachment rankledin his heart. Could he be the object of it? Could it be for him that thefair Arabella had looked scornfully on the sprightly Bob Sawyer, or hadhe a successful rival? He determined to see her, cost what it might; buthere an insurmountable objection presented itself, for whether theexplanatory 'over that way,' and 'down there,' of Mr. Ben Allen, meantthree miles off, or thirty, or three hundred, he could in no wise guess.

  But he had no opportunity of pondering over his love just then, for BobSawyer's return was the immediate precursor of the arrival of a meat-piefrom the baker's, of which that gentleman insisted on his staying topartake. The cloth was laid by an occasional charwoman, who officiatedin the capacity of Mr. Bob Sawyer's housekeeper; and a third knife andfork having been borrowed from the mother of the boy in the gray livery(for Mr. Sawyer's domestic arrangements were as yet
conducted on alimited scale), they sat down to dinner; the beer being served up, asMr. Sawyer remarked, 'in its native pewter.'

  After dinner, Mr. Bob Sawyer ordered in the largest mortar in the shop,and proceeded to brew a reeking jorum of rum-punch therein, stirring upand amalgamating the materials with a pestle in a very creditable andapothecary-like manner. Mr. Sawyer, being a bachelor, had only onetumbler in the house, which was assigned to Mr. Winkle as a complimentto the visitor, Mr. Ben Allen being accommodated with a funnel with acork in the narrow end, and Bob Sawyer contented himself with one ofthose wide-lipped crystal vessels inscribed with a variety of cabalisticcharacters, in which chemists are wont to measure out their liquid drugsin compounding prescriptions. These preliminaries adjusted, the punchwas tasted, and pronounced excellent; and it having been arranged thatBob Sawyer and Ben Allen should be considered at liberty to fill twiceto Mr. Winkle's once, they started fair, with great satisfaction andgood-fellowship.

  There was no singing, because Mr. Bob Sawyer said it wouldn't lookprofessional; but to make amends for this deprivation there was so muchtalking and laughing that it might have been heard, and very likely was,at the end of the street. Which conversation materially lightened thehours and improved the mind of Mr. Bob Sawyer's boy, who, instead ofdevoting the evening to his ordinary occupation of writing his name onthe counter, and rubbing it out again, peeped through the glass door,and thus listened and looked on at the same time.

  The mirth of Mr. Bob Sawyer was rapidly ripening into the furious, Mr.Ben Allen was fast relapsing into the sentimental, and the punch hadwell-nigh disappeared altogether, when the boy hastily running in,announced that a young woman had just come over, to say that Sawyer lateNockemorf was wanted directly, a couple of streets off. This broke upthe party. Mr. Bob Sawyer, understanding the message, after some twentyrepetitions, tied a wet cloth round his head to sober himself, and,having partially succeeded, put on his green spectacles and issuedforth. Resisting all entreaties to stay till he came back, and findingit quite impossible to engage Mr. Ben Allen in any intelligibleconversation on the subject nearest his heart, or indeed on any other,Mr. Winkle took his departure, and returned to the Bush.

  The anxiety of his mind, and the numerous meditations which Arabella hadawakened, prevented his share of the mortar of punch producing thateffect upon him which it would have had under other circumstances. So,after taking a glass of soda-water and brandy at the bar, he turned intothe coffee-room, dispirited rather than elevated by the occurrences ofthe evening.

  Sitting in front of the fire, with his back towards him, was a tallishgentleman in a greatcoat: the only other occupant of the room. It wasrather a cool evening for the season of the year, and the gentleman drewhis chair aside to afford the new-comer a sight of the fire. What wereMr. Winkle's feelings when, in doing so, he disclosed to view the faceand figure of the vindictive and sanguinary Dowler!

  Mr. Winkle's first impulse was to give a violent pull at the nearestbell-handle, but that unfortunately happened to be immediately behindMr. Dowler's head. He had made one step towards it, before he checkedhimself. As he did so, Mr. Dowler very hastily drew back.

  'Mr. Winkle, Sir. Be calm. Don't strike me. I won't bear it. A blow!Never!' said Mr. Dowler, looking meeker than Mr. Winkle had expected ina gentleman of his ferocity.

  'A blow, Sir?' stammered Mr. Winkle.

  'A blow, Sir,' replied Dowler. 'Compose your feelings. Sit down. Hearme.'

  'Sir,' said Mr. Winkle, trembling from head to foot, 'before I consentto sit down beside, or opposite you, without the presence of a waiter, Imust be secured by some further understanding. You used a threat againstme last night, Sir, a dreadful threat, Sir.' Here Mr. Winkle turned verypale indeed, and stopped short.

  'I did,' said Dowler, with a countenance almost as white as Mr.Winkle's. 'Circumstances were suspicious. They have been explained. Irespect your bravery. Your feeling is upright. Conscious innocence.There's my hand. Grasp it.'

  'Really, Sir,' said Mr. Winkle, hesitating whether to give his hand ornot, and almost fearing that it was demanded in order that he might betaken at an advantage, 'really, Sir, I--'

  'I know what you mean,' interposed Dowler. 'You feel aggrieved. Verynatural. So should I. I was wrong. I beg your pardon. Be friendly.Forgive me.' With this, Dowler fairly forced his hand upon Mr. Winkle,and shaking it with the utmost vehemence, declared he was a fellow ofextreme spirit, and he had a higher opinion of him than ever.

  'Now,' said Dowler, 'sit down. Relate it all. How did you find me? Whendid you follow? Be frank. Tell me.'

  'It's quite accidental,' replied Mr. Winkle, greatly perplexed by thecurious and unexpected nature of the interview. 'Quite.'

  'Glad of it,' said Dowler. 'I woke this morning. I had forgotten mythreat. I laughed at the accident. I felt friendly. I said so.'

  'To whom?' inquired Mr. Winkle.

  'To Mrs. Dowler. "You made a vow," said she. "I did," said I. "It was arash one," said she. "It was," said I. "I'll apologise. Where is he?"'

  'Who?' inquired Mr. Winkle.

  'You,' replied Dowler. 'I went downstairs. You were not to be found.Pickwick looked gloomy. Shook his head. Hoped no violence would becommitted. I saw it all. You felt yourself insulted. You had gone, for afriend perhaps. Possibly for pistols. "High spirit," said I. "I admirehim."'

  Mr. Winkle coughed, and beginning to see how the land lay, assumed alook of importance.

  'I left a note for you,' resumed Dowler. 'I said I was sorry. So I was.Pressing business called me here. You were not satisfied. You followed.You required a verbal explanation. You were right. It's all over now. Mybusiness is finished. I go back to-morrow. Join me.'

  As Dowler progressed in his explanation, Mr. Winkle's countenance grewmore and more dignified. The mysterious nature of the commencement oftheir conversation was explained; Mr. Dowler had as great an objectionto duelling as himself; in short, this blustering and awful personagewas one of the most egregious cowards in existence, and interpreting Mr.Winkle's absence through the medium of his own fears, had taken the samestep as himself, and prudently retired until all excitement of feelingshould have subsided.

  As the real state of the case dawned upon Mr. Winkle's mind, he lookedvery terrible, and said he was perfectly satisfied; but at the sametime, said so with an air that left Mr. Dowler no alternative but toinfer that if he had not been, something most horrible and destructivemust inevitably have occurred. Mr. Dowler appeared to be impressed witha becoming sense of Mr. Winkle's magnanimity and condescension; and thetwo belligerents parted for the night, with many protestations ofeternal friendship.

  About half-past twelve o'clock, when Mr. Winkle had been revelling sometwenty minutes in the full luxury of his first sleep, he was suddenlyawakened by a loud knocking at his chamber door, which, being repeatedwith increased vehemence, caused him to start up in bed, and inquire whowas there, and what the matter was.

  'Please, Sir, here's a young man which says he must see you directly,'responded the voice of the chambermaid.

  'A young man!' exclaimed Mr. Winkle.

  'No mistake about that 'ere, Sir,' replied another voice through thekeyhole; 'and if that wery same interestin' young creetur ain't let invithout delay, it's wery possible as his legs vill enter afore hiscountenance.' The young man gave a gentle kick at one of the lowerpanels of the door, after he had given utterance to this hint, as if toadd force and point to the remark.

  'Is that you, Sam?' inquired Mr. Winkle, springing out of bed.

  'Quite unpossible to identify any gen'l'm'n vith any degree o' mentalsatisfaction, vithout lookin' at him, Sir,' replied the voicedogmatically.

  Mr. Winkle, not much doubting who the young man was, unlocked the door;which he had no sooner done than Mr. Samuel Weller entered with greatprecipitation, and carefully relocking it on the inside, deliberatelyput the key in his waistcoat pocket; and, after surveying Mr. Winklefrom head to foot, said--

  'You're a wery humorous young gen'l'm'n, you air, Sir!'


  'What do you mean by this conduct, Sam?' inquired Mr. Winkleindignantly. 'Get out, sir, this instant. What do you mean, Sir?'

  'What do I mean,' retorted Sam; 'come, Sir, this is rayther too rich, asthe young lady said when she remonstrated with the pastry-cook, arterhe'd sold her a pork pie as had got nothin' but fat inside. What do Imean! Well, that ain't a bad 'un, that ain't.'

  'Unlock that door, and leave this room immediately, Sir,' said Mr.Winkle.

  'I shall leave this here room, sir, just precisely at the wery samemoment as you leaves it,' responded Sam, speaking in a forcible manner,and seating himself with perfect gravity. 'If I find it necessary tocarry you away, pick-a-back, o' course I shall leave it the least bit o'time possible afore you; but allow me to express a hope as you won'treduce me to extremities; in saying wich, I merely quote wot thenobleman said to the fractious pennywinkle, ven he vouldn't come out ofhis shell by means of a pin, and he conseqvently began to be afeeredthat he should be obliged to crack him in the parlour door.' At the endof this address, which was unusually lengthy for him, Mr. Weller plantedhis hands on his knees, and looked full in Mr. Winkle's face, with anexpression of countenance which showed that he had not the remotestintention of being trifled with.

  'You're a amiably-disposed young man, Sir, I don't think,' resumed Mr.Weller, in a tone of moral reproof, 'to go inwolving our preciousgovernor in all sorts o' fanteegs, wen he's made up his mind to gothrough everythink for principle. You're far worse nor Dodson, Sir; andas for Fogg, I consider him a born angel to you!' Mr. Weller havingaccompanied this last sentiment with an emphatic slap on each knee,folded his arms with a look of great disgust, and threw himself back inhis chair, as if awaiting the criminal's defence.

  'My good fellow,' said Mr. Winkle, extending his hand--his teethchattering all the time he spoke, for he had been standing, during thewhole of Mr. Weller's lecture, in his night-gear--'my good fellow, Irespect your attachment to my excellent friend, and I am very sorryindeed to have added to his causes for disquiet. There, Sam, there!'

  'Well,' said Sam, rather sulkily, but giving the proffered hand arespectful shake at the same time--'well, so you ought to be, and I amvery glad to find you air; for, if I can help it, I won't have him putupon by nobody, and that's all about it.'

  'Certainly not, Sam,' said Mr. Winkle. 'There! Now go to bed, Sam, andwe'll talk further about this in the morning.'

  'I'm wery sorry,' said Sam, 'but I can't go to bed.'

  'Not go to bed!' repeated Mr. Winkle.

  'No,' said Sam, shaking his head. 'Can't be done.'

  'You don't mean to say you're going back to-night, Sam?' urged Mr.Winkle, greatly surprised.

  'Not unless you particklerly wish it,' replied Sam; 'but I mustn't leavethis here room. The governor's orders wos peremptory.'

  'Nonsense, Sam,' said Mr. Winkle, 'I must stop here two or three days;and more than that, Sam, you must stop here too, to assist me in gainingan interview with a young lady--Miss Allen, Sam; you remember her--whomI must and will see before I leave Bristol.'

  But in reply to each of these positions, Sam shook his head with greatfirmness, and energetically replied, 'It can't be done.'

  After a great deal of argument and representation on the part of Mr.Winkle, however, and a full disclosure of what had passed in theinterview with Dowler, Sam began to waver; and at length a compromisewas effected, of which the following were the main and principalconditions:--

  That Sam should retire, and leave Mr. Winkle in the undisturbedpossession of his apartment, on the condition that he had permission tolock the door on the outside, and carry off the key; provided always,that in the event of an alarm of fire, or other dangerous contingency,the door should be instantly unlocked. That a letter should be writtento Mr. Pickwick early next morning, and forwarded per Dowler, requestinghis consent to Sam and Mr. Winkle's remaining at Bristol, for thepurpose and with the object already assigned, and begging an answer bythe next coach--, if favourable, the aforesaid parties to remainaccordingly, and if not, to return to Bath immediately on the receiptthereof. And, lastly, that Mr. Winkle should be understood as distinctlypledging himself not to resort to the window, fireplace, or othersurreptitious mode of escape in the meanwhile. These stipulations havingbeen concluded, Sam locked the door and departed.

  He had nearly got downstairs, when he stopped, and drew the key from hispocket.

  'I quite forgot about the knockin' down,' said Sam, half turning back.'The governor distinctly said it was to be done. Amazin' stupid o' me,that 'ere! Never mind,' said Sam, brightening up, 'it's easily done to-morrow, anyvays.'

  Apparently much consoled by this reflection, Mr. Weller once moredeposited the key in his pocket, and descending the remainder of thestairs without any fresh visitations of conscience, was soon, in commonwith the other inmates of the house, buried in profound repose.