[Illustration]
_Honourably accounts for Mr. Weller's Absence, by describing a
Soiree to which he was invited and went; also relates how he was
entrusted by Mr. Pickwick with a Private Mission of Delicacy and
Importance_
"Mr. Weller," said Mrs. Craddock, upon the morning of this very
eventful 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 of
acquaintance as is capable o' writin' one."
"Perhaps something uncommon has taken place," observed Mrs. Craddock.
"It must be somethin' wery uncommon indeed, as could produce a letter
out o' any friend o' mine," replied Sam, shaking his head dubiously;
"nothin' less than a nat'ral conwulsion, as the young gen'l'm'n
observed ven he was took with fits. It can't be from the gov'ner,"
said Sam, looking at the direction. "He always prints, I know, 'cos he
learnt writin' from the large bills in the bookin' offices. It's a wery
strange thing now, where this here letter can ha' come from."
As Sam said this, he did what a great many people do when they 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, thought perhaps he might as
well look at the inside, and try to find out from that.
"It's wrote on gilt-edged paper," said Sam, as he unfolded it, "and
sealed in bronze vax with 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 compliments to
Mr. Weller, and requests the pleasure of his company this evening,
to a friendly swarry, consisting of a boiled leg of mutton with the
usual trimmings. The swarry to be on table at half-past nine o'clock
punctually."
This was enclosed in another note, which ran thus--
"Mr. John Smauker, the gentleman who had the pleasure of meeting
Mr. Weller at the house of their mutual acquaintance, Mr. Bantam, a
few days since, begs to inclose Mr. Weller the herewith invitation.
If Mr. Weller will call on Mr. John Smauker at nine o'clock, Mr.
John Smauker will have the pleasure of introducing 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 the words "airy bell,"
as an instruction to the bearer.
"Vell," said Sam, "this is comin' it rayther powerful, this is. I never
heerd a biled leg of mutton called a swarry afore. I wonder wot they'd
call a roast one?"
However, without waiting to debate the point, Sam at once betook
himself into the presence of Mr. Pickwick, and requested leave of
absence for that evening, which was readily granted. With this
permission, and the street-door key, Sam Weller issued forth a little
before the appointed time, and strolled leisurely towards Queen Square,
which he no sooner gained than he had the satisfaction of beholding Mr.
John Smauker leaning his powdered 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, raising his
hat gracefully with one hand, while he gently waved the other in a
condescending manner. "How do you do, sir?"
"Why, reasonably conwalessent," replied Sam. "How do _you_ find
yourself, my dear feller?"
"Only so so," said Mr. John Smauker.
"Ah, you've been a workin' too hard," observed Sam. "I was fearful
you would; it won't do, you know; you must not give way to that 'ere
uncompromisin' spirit o' your'n."
"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 your destiny
leads you into public life, and public station, you must expect to be
subjected to temptations which other people is free from, 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 he drank
hisself to death in somethin' less than a quarter."
Mr. John Smauker looked deeply indignant at any parallel being drawn
between himself and the deceased gentleman in question; but as Sam's
face was in the most immovable state of calmness, 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 deep watch-pocket, and
was raised to the surface by means of a black string, with a copper key
at the other end.
"Perhaps we had," replied Sam, "or they'll overdo the swarry, and
that'll spile it."
"Have you drank the waters, Mr. Weller?" inquired his companion, as
they walked towards High Street.
"Once," replied Sam.
"What did you think of 'em, sir?"
"I thought they wos particklery unpleasant," replied Sam.
"Ah," said Mr. John Smauker, "you disliked the killibeate taste,
perhaps?"
"I don't know much about that 'ere," said Sam. "I thought they'd a wery
strong flavour o' warm flat-irons."
"That _is_ the killibeate, Mr. Weller," observed Mr. John Smauker,
contemptuously.
"Well, if it is, it's a wery inexpressive word, that's all," said Sam.
"It may be, but I ain't much in the chimical line myself, so I can't
say." And here, to the great horror of Mr. John Smauker, Sam Weller
began to whistle.
[Illustration: _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
exceedingly ungenteel sound, "will you take my arm?"
"Thankee, you're wery good, but I won't deprive you of it," replied
Sam. "I've rayther a way o' puttin' my hands in my pockets, if it's all
the same to you." As Sam said this, he suited the action to the word,
and whistled far louder than before.
"This way," said his new friend, apparently much relieved as they
turned down a by-street; "we shall soon be there."
"Shall we?" said Sam, quite unmoved by the announcement of his 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 very handsome uniforms, Mr. Weller," continued Mr. John
Smauker; "and perhaps you'll find some of the gentlemen 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 of sublime
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's head and
taking a gentlemanly pinch. "There are some funny dogs among us, and
they will have their joke, you know: but you mustn'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 up the fox's head 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, the moment he got behind
him, relapsed into a series of the very broadest and most unmitigated
grins, and manifested other demonstrations of being in a highly
enviable state of inward merriment.
Crossing the greengrocer's shop, and putting their hats on the stairs
in the little passage behind it, they walked into a small parlour; and
here the full splendour of the scene burst upon Mr. Weller's view.
A couple of tables were put together in the middle of the parlour,
covered with three or four cloths of different ages and dates of
washing, arranged to look as much like one as the circumstances of
the case would allow. Upon these were laid knives and forks for six
or eight people. Some of the knife handles were green, others red,
and a few yellow; and as all the forks were black, the combination of
colours was exceedingly striking. Plates for a corresponding number of
guests were warming behind the fender; and the guests themselves were
warming before it: the chief and most important of whom appeared to be
a stoutish gentleman in a bright crimson coat with long tails, vividly
red breeches, and a cocked hat, who was standing with his back to the
fire and had apparently just entered, for besides retaining his cocked
hat on his head, he carried in his hand a high stick, such as gentlemen
of his profession usually elevate in a sloping position over the roofs
of carriages.
"Smauker, my lad, your fin," said the gentleman with the cocked hat.
Mr. Smauker dovetailed the top joint of his right-hand little finger
into that of the gentleman with the cocked hat and said he was charmed
to see him looking so well.
"Well, they tell me I am looking pretty blooming," said the man with
the cocked hat, "and it's a wonder, too. I've been following our old
woman about, two hours a day, for the last fortnight; and if a constant
contemplation of the manner in which she hooks-and-eyes that infernal
old lavender-coloured gown of hers behind, isn't enough to throw
anybody into a low state of despondency for life, stop my quarter's
salary."
At this, the assembled selections laughed very heartily; and one
gentleman in a yellow waistcoat, with a coach-trimming border,
whispered a neighbour in green-foil smalls, that Tuckle was in spirits
to-night.
"By-the-bye," said Mr. Tuckle, "Smauker, my boy, you--" The remainder
of the sentence was forwarded into Mr. John Smauker's ear, by whisper.
"Oh, dear me, I quite forgot," said Mr. John Smauker. "Gentlemen, my
friend Mr. Weller."
"Sorry to keep the fire off you, Weller," said Mr. Tuckle, with a
familiar nod. "Hope you're not cold, Weller?"
"Not by no means, Blazes," replied Sam. "It 'ud be a wery chilly
subject as felt cold ven you stood opposit. You'd save coals if they
put you behind the fender in the waitin' room at a public office, you
would."
As this retort appeared to convey rather a personal allusion to Mr.
Tuckle's crimson livery, that gentleman looked majestic for a few
seconds, but gradually edging away from the fire, broke into a forced
smile, and said it wasn't bad.
"Wery much obliged for your good opinion, sir," replied Sam. "We shall
get on by degrees, I des-say. We'll try a better one, by-and-by."
At this point the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a
gentleman in orange-coloured plush, accompanied by another selection in
purple cloth, with a great extent of stocking. The new comers having
been welcomed by the old ones, Mr. Tuckle put the question that supper
be ordered in, which was carried unanimously.
The greengrocer and his wife then arranged upon the table a boiled
leg of mutton, hot, with caper sauce, turnips, and potatoes. Mr.
Tuckle took the chair, and was supported at the other end of the board
by the gentleman in orange plush. The greengrocer put on a pair of
wash-leather gloves to hand the plates with, and stationed himself
behind Mr. Tuckle's chair.
"Harris," said Mr. Tuckle in a commanding tone.
"Sir?" said the greengrocer.
"Have you got your gloves on?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then take the kiver off."
"Yes, sir."
The greengrocer did as he was told, with a show of great humility, and
obsequiously handed Mr. Tuckle the carving knife; in doing which, he
accidentally gaped.
"What do you mean by that, sir?" said Mr. Tuckle, with great asperity.
"I beg your pardon, sir," replied the crestfallen greengrocer, "I din't
mean to do it, sir; I was up very late last night, sir."
"I tell you what my opinion of you is, Harris," said Mr. Tuckle with a
most impressive air, "you're a wulgar beast."
"I hope, gentlemen," said Harris, "that you won't be severe with me,
gentlemen. I'm very much obliged to you indeed, gentlemen, for your
patronage, and also for your recommendations, gentlemen, whenever
additional assistance in waiting is required. I hope, gentlemen, I give
satisfaction."
"No, you don't, sir," said Mr. Tuckle. "Very far from it, sir."
"We consider you an inattentive reskel," said the gentleman in the
orange plush.
"And a low thief," added the gentleman in the green-foil smalls.
"And an unreclaimable blaygaird," added the gentleman in purple.
The poor greengrocer bowed very humbly while these little epithets were
bestowed upon him, in the true spirit of the very smallest tyranny; and
when everybody had said something to show his superiority, Mr. Tuckle
proceeded to carve the leg of mutton, and to help the company.
This important business of the evening had hardly commenced, when the
door was thrown briskly open, and another gentleman in a light blue
suit, and leaden buttons, made his appearance.
"Against the rules," said Mr. Tuckle. "Too late, too late."
"No, no; positively I couldn't help it," said the gentleman in blue.
"I appeal to the company. An affair of gallantry now, an appointment at
the theayter."
"Oh, that indeed," said the gentleman in the orange plush.
"Yes; raly now, honour bright," said the man in blue. "I made a promese
to fetch our youngest daughter at half-past ten, and she is such an
uncauminly fine gal, that I raly hadn't the art to disappoint her. No
offence to the present company, sir, but a petticut, sir, a petticut,
sir, is irrevokeable!"
"I begin to suspect there's something in that quarter," said Tuckle,
as the new-comer took his seat next Sam. "I've remarked once or twice,
that she leans very heavy on your shoulder, when she gets in and out of
the carriage."
"Oh raly, raly, Tuckle, you shouldn't," said the man in blue. "It's
not fair. I may have said to one or two friends that she was a very
divine creechure, and had refused one or two offers without any hobvus
cause, but--no, no, no, indeed, Tuckle--before strangers too--it's not
right--you shouldn't. Delicacy, my dear friend, delicacy!" And the man
in blue, pulling up his neckerchief, and adjusting his coat cuffs,
nodded and frowned as if there were more behind, which he could say if
he liked, but was bound in honour to suppress.
The man in blue being a light-haired, stiff-necked, free and easy
sort of footman, with a swaggering air and pert face, had attracted
Mr. Weller's especial attention at first, but when he began to come
out in this way, Sam felt more than ever disposed to cultivate his
acquaintance; so he launched himself into the conversation at once,
with characteristic independence.
"Your health, sir," said Sam. "I like you conwersation much. I think
it's wery pretty."
At this the man in blue smiled, as if it were a compliment he was well
used to; but looked approvingly on Sam at the same time, and said he
hoped he should be better acquainted with him, for without any flattery
at all, he seemed to have the makings of a very nice fellow about him,
and to be just the man after his own heart.
"You're wery good, sir," said Sam. "What a lucky feller you are!"
"How do you mean?" inquired the gentleman in blue.
"That 'ere young lady," replied Sam. "She knows wot's wot, she does.
Ah! I see." Mr. Weller closed one eye, and shook his head from side to
side, in a manner which was highly gratifying to the personal vanity of
the gentleman in blue.
"I'm afraid you're a cunning fellow, Mr. Weller," said that individual.
"No, no," said Sam. "I leave all that 'ere to you. It's a great deal
more in your way than mine, as the gen'l'm'n on the right side o' the
garden vall said to the man on the wrong 'un, ven the mad bull wos a
comin' up the lane."
"Well, well, Mr. Weller," said the gentleman in blue, "I think she has
remarked my air and manner, Mr. Weller."
"I should think she couldn't wery vell be off o' that," said Sam.
"Have you any little thing of that kind in hand, sir?" inquired the
favoured gentleman in blue, drawing a toothpick from his waistcoat
pocket.
"Not exactly," said Sam. "There's no daughters at my place, else o'
course I should ha' made up to vun on 'em. As it is, I don't think I
can do anything under a female markis. I might take up vith a young
'ooman o' large property, as hadn't a title, if she made wery fierce
love to me. Not else."
"Of course not, Mr. Weller," said the gentleman in blue, "one can't be
troubled, you know; and _we_ know, Mr. Weller--we, who are men of the
world--that a good uniform must work its way with the women, sooner or
later. In fact, that's the only thing, between you and me, that makes
the service worth entering into."
"Just so," said Sam. "That's it, o' course."
When this confidential dialogue had gone thus far, glasses were placed
round, and every gentleman ordered what he liked best, before the
public-house shut up. The gentleman in blue, and the man in orange, who
were the chief exquisites of the party, ordered "cold scrub and water,"
but with the others, gin and water, sweet, appeared to be the favourite
beverage. Sam called the greengrocer a "desp'rate willin," and ordered
a large bowl of punch: two circumstances which seemed to raise him very
much in the opinion of the selections.
"Gentlemen," said the man in blue, with an air of the most consummate
dandyism, "I'll give you 'The ladies'; come."
"Hear, hear!" said Sam, "The young mississes."
Here there was a loud cry of "Order," and Mr. John Smauker, as the
gentleman who had introduced Mr. Weller into that company, begged to
inform him that the word he had just made use of was unparliamentary.
"Which word was that 'ere, sir?" inquired Sam.
"Missesses, sir," replied Mr. John Smauker, with an alarming frown. "We
don't recognise such distinctions here."
"Oh, wery good," said Sam; "then I'll amend the observation, and call
'em the dear creeturs, if Blazes vill allow me."
Some doubt appeared to exist in the mind of the gentleman in the
green-foil smalls, whether the chairman could be legally appealed to,
as "Blazes," but as the company seemed more disposed to stand upon
their own rights than his, the question was not raised. The man with
the cocked hat breathed short, and looked long at Sam, but apparently
thought it as well to say nothing, in case he should get the worst of
it.
After a short silence, a gentleman in an embroidered coat reaching down
to his heels, and a waistcoat of the same which kept one half of his
legs warm, stirred his gin and water with great energy, and putting
himself upon his feet, all at once, by a violent effort, said he was
desirous of offering a few remarks to the company: whereupon the person
in the cocked hat had no doubt that the company would be very happy to
hear any remarks that the man in the long coat might wish to offer.
"I feel a great delicacy, gentlemen, in coming for'ard," said the man
in the long coat, "having the misforchune to be a coachman, and being
admitted as a honorary member of these agreeable swarrys, but I do
feel myself bound, gentlemen--drove into a corner, if I may use the
expression--to make known an afflicting circumstance which has come
to my knowledge; which has happened I may say within the soap of my
everyday contemplation. Gentlemen, our friend Mr. Whiffers (everybody
looked at the individual in orange), our friend Mr. Whiffers has
resigned."
Universal astonishment fell upon the hearers. Each gentleman looked in
his neighbour's face, and then transferred his glance to the upstanding
coachman.
"You may well be sapparised, gentlemen," said the coachman. "I will not
wenchure to state the reasons of this irrepairabel loss to the service,
but I will beg Mr. Whiffers to state them himself, for the improvement
and imitation of his admiring friends."
The suggestion being loudly approved of, Mr. Whiffers explained. He
said he certainly could have wished to have continued to hold the
appointment he had just resigned. The uniform was extremely rich and
expensive, the females of the family was most agreeable, and the duties
of the situation was not, he was bound to say, too heavy: the principal
service that was required of him, being, that he should look out of the
hall window as much as possible, in company with another gentleman, who
had also resigned. He could have wished to have spared that company
the painful and disgusting detail on which he was about to enter, but
as the explanation had been demanded of him, he had no alternative but
to state, boldly and distinctly, that he had been required to eat cold
meat.
It is impossible to conceive the disgust which this avowal awakened in
the bosoms of the hearers. Loud cries of "Shame!" mingled with groans
and hisses, prevailed for a quarter of an hour.
Mr. Whiffers then added that he feared a portion of this outrage might
be traced to his own forbearing and accommodating disposition. He had
a distinct recollection of having once consented to eat salt butter,
and he had, moreover, on an occasion of sudden sickness in the house,
so far forgotten himself as to carry a coal-scuttle up to the second
floor. He trusted he had not lowered himself in the good opinion of
his friends by this frank confession of his faults; and he hoped the
promptness with which he had resented the last unmanly outrage on his
feelings, to which he had referred, would reinstate him in their good
opinion, if he had.
Mr. Whiffers' address was responded to with a shout of admiration, and
the health of the interesting martyr was drunk in a most enthusiastic
manner; for this, the martyr returned thanks, and proposed their
visitor, Mr. Weller; a gentleman whom he had not the pleasure of
an intimate acquaintance with, but who was the friend of Mr. John
Smauker, which was a sufficient letter of recommendation to any society
of gentlemen whatever, or wherever. On this account, he should have
been disposed to have given Mr. Weller's health with all the honours,
if his friends had been drinking wine; but as they were taking spirits
by way of a change, and as it might be inconvenient to empty a tumbler
at every toast, he should propose that the honours be understood.
At the conclusion of this speech, everybody took a sip in honour of
Sam; and Sam having ladled out, and drunk, two full glasses of punch in
honour of himself, returned thanks in a neat speech.
"Wery much obliged to you, old fellers," said Sam, ladling away at
the punch in the most unembarrassed manner possible, "for this here
compliment; wich, comin' from sich a quarter, is wery overvelmin'.
I've heerd a good deal on you as a body, but I will say, that I never
thought you was sich uncommon nice men as I find you air. I only
hope you'll take care o' yourselves, and not compromise nothin' o'
your dignity, which is a wery charmin' thing to see, when one's out
a walkin', and has always made me wery happy to look at, ever since
I was a boy about half as high as the brass-headed stick o' my wery
respectable friend, Blazes, there. As to the wictim of oppression in
the suit o' brimstone, all I can say of him, is, that I hope he'll get
jist as good a berth as he deserves: in vich case it's wery little cold
swarry as ever he'll be troubled with agin."
Here Sam sat down with a pleasant smile, and his speech having been
vociferously applauded, the company broke up.
"Vy, you don't mean to say you're a goin', old feller?" said Sam 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'd_ resign
if you disappointed 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 behind you!" said
Sam; "nonsense, set down agin."
Mr. Tuckle was not proof against this invitation. He laid aside the
cocked hat and stick which he had just taken up, and said he would 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 was about half gone, Sam
ordered in some oysters from the greengrocer'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 the gentleman in blue played an accompaniment upon an
ingenious musical instrument formed of a hair-comb and 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 sooner got into
the open air, than he was seized with a sudden desire to lie on the
curb-stone; Sam thought it would be a pity to contradict him, and so
let him have his own way. As the cocked hat would have been spoilt if
left there, Sam very considerately flattened it down on the head of the
gentleman in blue, and putting the big stick 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 of rising, Mr.
Pickwick walked down-stairs completely dressed and rang the bell.
"Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, when Mr. Weller appeared in reply to 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 to apprehend violence from
Mr. Dowler."
"So I've heerd from the old lady down-stairs, sir," replied Sam.
"And I'm sorry to say, Sam," continued Mr. Pickwick, with a most
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 slightest previous
communication with me," replied Mr. Pickwick, "And is gone, I know not
where."
"He should ha' stopped and fought it out, sir," replied Sam,
contemptuously. "It wouldn't take much to settle that 'ere Dowler,
sir."
"Well, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, "I may have my doubts of his great
bravery and determination, also. But, however that may be, Mr. Winkle
is gone. He must be found, Sam. Found and brought back 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 immediately afterwards
was heard to shut the street door. In two hours' time he returned with
as much coolness as if he had been despatched on the most ordinary
message possible, and brought the information that an individual, in
every respect answering Mr. Winkle's description, had gone over to
Bristol that morning, by the branch coach from the Royal Hotel.
"Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, grasping his hand, "you're a capital fellow;
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, knock him 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 very extraordinary course
he has thought proper to pursue."
"I will, sir," replied Sam.
"You'll tell him," said Mr. Pickwick, "that if he does not come back to
this very house, with you, he will come back with me, for I will come
and fetch him."
"I'll mention that 'ere, sir," rejoined Sam.
"You think you can find him, Sam?" said Mr. Pickwick, looking earnestly
in his face.
"Oh, I'll find him, if he's anyvere," rejoined Sam, with great
confidence.
"Very well," said Mr. Pickwick. "Then the sooner you go the better."
With these instructions Mr. Pickwick placed a sum of money in the
hands of his faithful servitor, and ordered him to start for Bristol
immediately, in pursuit of the fugitive.
Sam put a few necessaries in a carpet bag, and was ready for starting.
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 Mr. Pickwick. "Thoroughly. Do what you think
necessary. You have my orders."
Sam gave a nod of intelligence, and withdrawing his head from the door,
set forth on his pilgrimage with a light heart.