The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club, v. 1 (of 2)
Page 26
CHAPTER XXIV
_Wherein Mr. Peter Magnus grows jealous, and the Middle-aged Lady apprehensive, which brings the Pickwickians within the Grasp of the Law_
When Mr. Pickwick descended to the room in which he and Mr. PeterMagnus had spent the preceding evening, he found that gentleman withthe major part of the contents of the two bags, the leathern hat-box,and the brown-paper parcel, displayed to all possible advantage on hisperson, while he himself was pacing up and down the room in a state ofthe utmost excitement and agitation.
"Good morning, sir," said Mr. Peter Magnus. "What do you think of this,sir?"
"Very effective indeed," replied Mr. Pickwick, surveying the garmentsof Mr. Peter Magnus with a good-natured smile.
"Yes, I think it'll do," said Mr. Magnus. "Mr. Pickwick, sir, I havesent up my card."
"Have you?" said Mr. Pickwick.
"And the waiter brought back word that she would see me at eleven--ateleven, sir; it only wants a quarter now."
"Very near the time," said Mr. Pickwick.
"Yes, it is rather near," replied Mr. Magnus, "rather too near to bepleasant--eh! Mr. Pickwick, sir?"
"Confidence is a great thing in these cases," observed Mr. Pickwick.
"I believe it is, sir," said Mr. Peter Magnus. "I am very confident,sir. Really, Mr. Pickwick, I do not see why a man should feel anyfear in such a case as this, sir. What is it, sir? There's nothing tobe ashamed of; it's a matter of mutual accommodation, nothing more.Husband on one side, wife on the other. That's my view of the matter,Mr. Pickwick."
"It is a very philosophical one," replied Mr. Pickwick. "But breakfastis waiting, Mr. Magnus. Come."
Down they sat to breakfast, but it was evident, notwithstandingthe boasting of Mr. Peter Magnus, that he laboured under a veryconsiderable degree of nervousness, of which loss of appetite, apropensity to upset the tea-things, a spectral attempt at drollery, andan irresistible inclination to look at the clock, every other second,were among the principal symptoms.
"He--he--he," tittered Mr. Magnus, affecting cheerfulness, and gaspingwith agitation. "It only wants two minutes, Mr. Pickwick. Am I pale,sir?"
"Not very," replied Mr. Pickwick.
There was a brief pause.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Pickwick; but have you ever done this sort ofthing in your time?" said Mr. Magnus.
"You mean proposing?" said Mr. Pickwick.
"Yes."
"Never," said Mr. Pickwick, with great energy, "never."
"You have no idea, then, how it's best to begin?" said Mr. Magnus.
"Why," said Mr. Pickwick, "I may have formed some ideas upon thesubject, but, as I have never submitted them to the test of experience,I should be sorry if you were induced to regulate your proceedings bythem."
"I should feel very much obliged to you for any advice, sir," said Mr.Magnus, taking another look at the clock: the hand of which was vergingon the five minutes past.
"Well, sir," said Mr. Pickwick, with the profound solemnity with whichthat great man could, when he pleased, render his remarks so deeplyimpressive: "I should commence, sir, with a tribute to the lady'sbeauty and excellent qualities; from them, sir, I should diverge to myown unworthiness."
"Very good," said Mr. Magnus.
"Unworthiness for _her_ only, mind, sir," resumed Mr. Pickwick; "for toshow that I was not wholly unworthy, sir, I should take a brief reviewof my past life, and present condition. I should argue, by analogy,that to anybody else, I must be a very desirable object. I should thenexpatiate on the warmth of my love, and the depth of my devotion.Perhaps I might then be tempted to seize her hand."
"Yes, I see," said Mr. Magnus; "that would be a very great point."
"I should then, sir," continued Mr. Pickwick, growing warmer as thesubject presented itself in more glowing colours before him: "I shouldthen, sir, come to the plain and simple question, 'Will you have me?'I think I am justified in assuming, that upon this she would turn awayher head."
"You think that may be taken for granted?" said Mr. Magnus; "because ifshe did not do that at the right place, it would be embarrassing."
"I think she would," said Mr. Pickwick. "Upon this, sir, I shouldsqueeze her hand, and I think--I _think_, Mr. Magnus--that after I haddone that, supposing there was no refusal, I should gently draw awaythe handkerchief, which my slight knowledge of human nature leads meto suppose the lady would be applying to her eyes at the moment, andsteal a respectful kiss. I think I should kiss her, Mr. Magnus; andat this particular point, I am decidedly of opinion that if the ladywere going to take me at all, she would murmur into my ears a bashfulacceptance."
Mr. Magnus started; gazed on Mr. Pickwick's intelligent face for ashort time in silence; and then (the dial pointing to the ten minutespast) shook him warmly by the hand, and rushed desperately from theroom.
Mr. Pickwick had taken a few strides to and fro; and the small hand ofthe clock following the latter part of his example, had arrived at thefigure which indicates the half-hour, when the door suddenly opened. Heturned round to meet Mr. Peter Magnus, and encountered in his stead,the joyous face of Mr. Tupman, the serene countenance of Mr. Winkle,and the intellectual lineaments of Mr. Snodgrass. As Mr. Pickwickgreeted them, Mr. Peter Magnus tripped into the room.
"My friends, the gentleman I was speaking of--Mr. Magnus," said Mr.Pickwick.
"Your servant, gentlemen," said Mr. Magnus, evidently in a high stateof excitement; "Mr. Pickwick, allow me to speak to you one moment, sir."
As he said this, Mr. Magnus harnessed his forefinger to Mr. Pickwick'sbutton-hole, and, drawing him to a window recess, said:
"Congratulate me, Mr. Pickwick; I followed your advice to the veryletter."
"And it was all correct, was it?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.
"It was, sir. Could not possibly have been better," replied Mr. Magnus."Mr. Pickwick, she is mine."
"I congratulate you with all my heart," replied Mr. Pickwick, warmlyshaking his new friend by the hand.
"You must see her, sir," said Mr. Magnus; "this way if you please.Excuse us for one instant, gentlemen." Hurrying on in this way, Mr.Peter Magnus drew Mr. Pickwick from the room. He paused at the nextdoor in the passage, and tapped gently thereat.
"Come in," said a female voice. And in they went.
"Miss Witherfield," said Mr. Magnus, "allow me to introduce my veryparticular friend, Mr. Pickwick. Mr. Pickwick, I beg to make you knownto Miss Witherfield."
The lady was at the upper end of the room. As Mr. Pickwick bowed,he took his spectacles from his waistcoat pocket and put them on;a process which he had no sooner gone through, than, uttering anexclamation of surprise, Mr. Pickwick retreated several paces, andthe lady, with a half-suppressed scream, hid her face in her hands,and dropped into a chair; whereupon Mr. Peter Magnus was strickenmotionless on the spot, and gazed from one to the other, with acountenance expressive of the extremities of horror and surprise.
This certainly was, to all appearance, very unaccountable behaviour;but the fact is, that Mr. Pickwick no sooner put on his spectacles,than he at once recognised in the future Mrs. Magnus the lady intowhose room he had so unwarrantably intruded on the previous night; andthe spectacles had no sooner crossed Mr. Pickwick's nose, than the ladyat once identified the countenance which she had seen surrounded byall the horrors of a night-cap. So the lady screamed and Mr. Pickwickstarted.
"Mr. Pickwick!" exclaimed Mr. Magnus, lost in astonishment, "what isthe meaning of this, sir? What is the meaning of it, sir?" added Mr.Magnus, in a threatening and a louder tone.
"Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, somewhat indignant at the very sudden mannerin which Mr. Peter Magnus had conjugated himself into the imperativemood, "I decline answering that question."
"You decline it, sir?" said Mr. Magnus.
"I do, sir," replied Mr. Pickwick: "I object to saying anything whichmay compromise that lady, or awaken unpleasant recollections in herbreast, without her consent and permission."
"Miss Witherfield," said Mr. Pet
er Magnus, "do you know this person?"
"Know him!" repeated the middle-aged lady, hesitating.
"Yes, know him, ma'am. I said know him," replied Mr. Magnus, withferocity.
"I have seen him," replied the middle-aged lady.
"Where," inquired Mr. Magnus, "where?"
"That," said the middle-aged lady, rising from her seat, and avertingher head, "that I would not reveal for worlds."
"I understand you, ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, "and respect yourdelicacy; it shall never be revealed by _me_, depend upon it."
"Upon my word, ma'am," said Mr. Magnus, "considering the situation inwhich I am placed with regard to yourself, you carry this matter offwith tolerable coolness--tolerable coolness, ma'am."
"Cruel Mr. Magnus!" said the middle-aged lady; here she wept verycopiously indeed.
"Address your observations to me, sir," interposed Mr. Pickwick; "Ialone am to blame, if anybody be."
"Oh! you alone are to blame, are you, sir?" said Mr. Magnus. "I--I--seethrough this, sir. You repent of your determination now, do you?"
"My determination!" said Mr. Pickwick.
"Your determination, sir. Oh! don't stare at me, sir," said Mr.Magnus; "I recollect your words last night, sir. You came down here,sir, to expose the treachery and falsehood of an individual onwhose truth and honour you had placed implicit reliance--eh?" HereMr. Peter Magnus indulged in a prolonged sneer; and taking off hisgreen spectacles--which he probably found superfluous in his fit ofjealousy--rolled his little eyes about, in a manner frightful to behold.
"Eh?" said Mr. Magnus; and then he repeated the sneer with increasedeffect. "But you shall answer it, sir."
"Answer what?" said Mr. Pickwick.
"Never mind, sir," replied Mr. Magnus, striding up and down the room."Never mind."
There must be something very comprehensive in this phrase of "Nevermind," for we do not recollect to have ever witnessed a quarrel in thestreet, at a theatre, public room, or elsewhere, in which it has notbeen the standard reply to all belligerent inquiries. "Do you callyourself a gentleman, sir?"--"Never mind, sir." "Did I offer to sayanything to the young woman, sir?"--"Never mind, sir."--"Do you wantyour head knocked up against that wall, sir?"--"Never mind, sir." It isobservable, too, that there would appear to be some hidden taunt inthis universal "Never mind," which rouses more indignation in the bosomof the individual addressed, than the most lavish abuse could possiblyawaken.
We do not mean to assert that the application of this brevity tohimself, struck exactly that indignation to Mr. Pickwick's soul, whichit would infallibly have roused in a vulgar breast. We merely recordthe fact that Mr. Pickwick opened the room door, and abruptly calledout, "Tupman, come here!"
Mr. Tupman immediately presented himself, with a look of veryconsiderable surprise.
"Tupman," said Mr. Pickwick, "a secret of some delicacy, in which thatlady is concerned, is the cause of a difference which has just arisenbetween this gentleman and myself. When I assure him, in your presence,that it has no relation to himself, and is not in any way connectedwith his affairs, I need hardly beg you to take notice that if hecontinue to dispute it, he expresses a doubt of my veracity, which Ishall consider extremely insulting." As Mr. Pickwick said this, helooked encyclop?dias at Mr. Peter Magnus.
Mr. Pickwick's upright and honourable bearing, coupled with that forceand energy of speech which so eminently distinguished him, would havecarried conviction to any reasonable mind; but unfortunately, at thatparticular moment, the mind of Mr. Peter Magnus was in anything butreasonable order. Consequently, instead of receiving Mr. Pickwick'sexplanation as he ought to have done, he forthwith proceeded to workhimself into a red-hot, scorching, consuming passion, and to talkabout what was due to his own feelings, and all that sort of thing:adding force to his declamation by striding to and fro, and pulling hishair--amusements which he would vary occasionally by shaking his fistin Mr. Pickwick's philanthropic countenance.
Mr. Pickwick, in his turn, conscious of his own innocence andrectitude, and irritated by having unfortunately involved themiddle-aged lady in such an unpleasant affair, was not so quietlydisposed as was his wont. The consequence was, that words ran high, andvoices higher; and at length Mr. Magnus told Mr. Pickwick he shouldhear from him; to which Mr. Pickwick replied, with laudable politeness,that the sooner he heard from him the better; whereupon the middle-agedlady rushed in terror from the room, out of which Mr. Tupman draggedMr. Pickwick, leaving Mr. Peter Magnus to himself and meditation.
If the middle-aged lady had mingled much with the busy world, or hadprofited at all by the manners and customs of those who make the lawsand set the fashions, she would have known that this sort of ferocityis the most harmless thing in nature; but as she had lived for the mostpart in the country, and never read the parliamentary debates, shewas little versed in these particular refinements of civilised life.Accordingly, when she had gained her bed-chamber, bolted herself in,and begun to meditate on the scene she had just witnessed, the mostterrific pictures of slaughter and destruction presented themselvesto her imagination; among which, a full-length portrait of Mr. PeterMagnus borne home by four men, with the embellishment of a wholebarrel-full of bullets in his left side, was among the very least. Themore the middle-aged lady meditated, the more terrified she became;and at length she determined to repair to the house of the principalmagistrate of the town, and request him to secure the persons of Mr.Pickwick and Mr. Tupman without delay.
To this decision the middle-aged lady was impelled by a variety ofconsiderations, the chief of which, was the incontestable proof itwould afford of her devotion to Mr. Peter Magnus, and her anxiety forhis safety. She was too well acquainted with his jealous temperament toventure the slightest allusion to the real cause of her agitation onbeholding Mr. Pickwick; and she trusted to her own influence and powerof persuasion with the little man, to quell his boisterous jealousy,supposing that Mr. Pickwick were removed, and no fresh quarrel couldarise. Filled with these reflections, the middle-aged lady arrayedherself in her bonnet and shawl, and repaired to the Mayor's dwellingstraightway.
Now George Nupkins, Esquire, the principal magistrate aforesaid, was asgrand a personage as the fastest walker would find out, between sunriseand sunset, on the twenty-first of June, which being, according to thealmanacs, the longest day in the whole year, would naturally affordhim the longest period for his search. On this particular morning,Mr. Nupkins was in a state of the utmost excitement and irritation,for there had been a rebellion in the town; all the day-scholarsat the largest day-school had conspired to break the windows of anobnoxious apple-seller, and had hooted the beadle, and pelted theconstabulary--an elderly gentleman in top-boots, who had been calledout to repress the tumult, and who had been a peace-officer, man andboy, for half a century at least. And Mr. Nupkins was sitting in hiseasy chair, frowning with majesty, and boiling with rage, when a ladywas announced on pressing, private, and particular business. Mr.Nupkins looked calmly terrible, and commanded that the lady shouldbe shown in: which command, like all the mandates of emperors, andmagistrates, and other great potentates of the earth, was forthwithobeyed; and Miss Witherfield, interestingly agitated, was ushered inaccordingly.
"Muzzle!" said the magistrate.
Muzzle was an undersized footman, with a long body and short legs.
"Muzzle!"
"Yes, your worship."
"Place a chair, and leave the room."
"Yes, your worship."
"Now, ma'am, will you state your business?" said the magistrate.
"It is of a very painful kind, sir," said Miss Witherfield.
"Very likely, ma'am," said the magistrate. "Compose your feelings,ma'am." Here Mr. Nupkins looked benignant. "And then tell me what legalbusiness brings you here, ma'am." Here the magistrate triumphed overthe man; and he looked stern again.
"It is very distressing to me, sir, to give this information," saidMiss Witherfield, "but I fear a duel is going to be fought here."
"Here, ma'am?"
said the magistrate. "Where, ma'am?"
"In Ipswich."
"In Ipswich, ma'am! A duel in Ipswich!" said the magistrate, perfectlyaghast at the notion. "Impossible, ma'am; nothing of the kind can becontemplated in this town, I am persuaded. Bless my soul, ma'am, areyou aware of the activity of our local magistracy? Do you happen tohave heard, ma'am, that I rushed into a prize-ring on the fourth of Maylast, attended by only sixty special constables; and, at the hazard offalling a sacrifice to the angry passions of an infuriated multitude,prohibited a pugilistic contest between the Middlesex Dumpling and theSuffolk Bantam? A duel in Ipswich, ma'am! I don't think--I do _not_think," said the magistrate, reasoning with himself, "that any two mencan have had the hardihood to plan such a breach of the peace, in thistown."
"My information is unfortunately but too correct," said the middle-agedlady, "I was present at the quarrel."
"It's a most extraordinary thing," said the astounded magistrate."Muzzle!"
"Yes, your worship."
"Send Mr. Jinks here, directly! Instantly."
"Yes, your worship."
Muzzle retired; and a pale, sharp-nosed, half-fed, shabbily-clad clerk,of middle age, entered the room.
"Mr. Jinks," said the magistrate. "Mr. Jinks."
"Sir?" said Mr. Jinks.
"This lady, Mr. Jinks, has come here, to give information of anintended duel in this town."
Mr. Jinks, not knowing exactly what to do, smiled a dependent's smile.
"What are you laughing at, Mr. Jinks?" said the magistrate.
Mr. Jinks looked serious, instantly.
"Mr. Jinks," said the magistrate, "you're a fool."
Mr. Jinks looked humbly at the great man, and bit the top of his pen.
"You may see something very comical in this information, sir; but I cantell you this, Mr. Jinks; that you have very little to laugh at," saidthe magistrate.
The hungry-looking Jinks sighed, as if he were quite aware of the factof his having very little indeed, to be merry about; and, being orderedto take the lady's information, shambled to a seat, and proceeded towrite it down.
"This man, Pickwick, is the principal, I understand?" said themagistrate, when the statement was finished.
"He is," said the middle-aged lady.
"And the other rioter--what's his name, Mr. Jinks?"
"Tupman, sir."
"Tupman is the second?"
"Yes."
"The other principal, you say, has absconded, ma'am?"
"Yes," replied Miss Witherfield, with a short cough.
"Very well," said the magistrate. "These are two cut-throats fromLondon, who have come down here to destroy His Majesty's population;thinking that at this distance from the capital, the arm of the lawis weak and paralysed. They shall be made an example of. Draw up thewarrants, Mr. Jinks. Muzzle!"
"Yes, your worship."
"Is Grummer down-stairs?"
"Yes, your worship."
"Send him up."
The obsequious Muzzle retired, and presently returned, introducing theelderly gentleman in the top-boots, who was chiefly remarkable for abottle-nose, a hoarse voice, a snuff-coloured surtout, and a wanderingeye.
"Grummer," said the magistrate.
"Your wash-up."
"Is the town quiet now?"
"Pretty well, your wash-up," replied Grummer. "Pop'lar feeling has in ameasure subsided, consekens o' the boys having dispersed to cricket."
"Nothing but vigorous measures will do in these times, Grummer," saidthe magistrate, in a determined manner. "If the authority of the King'sofficers is set at nought, we must have the Riot Act read. If the civilpower cannot protect these windows, Grummer, the military must protectthe civil power, and the windows too. I believe that is a maxim of theconstitution, Mr. Jinks?"
"Certainly, sir," said Jinks.
"Very good," said the magistrate, signing the warrants. "Grummer, youwill bring these persons before me, this afternoon. You will find themat the Great White Horse. You recollect the case of the MiddlesexDumpling and the Suffolk Bantam, Grummer?"
Mr. Grummer intimated, by a retrospective shake of the head, that heshould never forget it--as indeed it was not likely he would, so longas it continued to be cited daily.
"This is even more unconstitutional," said the magistrate; "this iseven a greater breach of the peace, and a grosser infringement of HisMajesty's prerogative. I believe duelling is one of His Majesty's mostundoubted prerogatives, Mr. Jinks?"
"Expressly stipulated in Magna Charta, sir," said Mr. Jinks.
"One of the brightest jewels in the British crown, wrung from HisMajesty by the Barons, I believe, Mr. Jinks?" said the magistrate.
"Just so, sir," replied Mr. Jinks.
"Very well," said the magistrate, drawing himself up proudly, "itshall not be violated in this portion of his dominions. Grummer,procure assistance, and execute these warrants with as little delay aspossible. Muzzle!"
"Yes, your worship."
"Show the lady out."
Miss Witherfield retired, deeply impressed with the magistrates'learning and research; Mr. Nupkins retired to lunch; Mr. Jinks retiredwithin himself--that being the only retirement he had, except thesofa-bedstead in the small parlour which was occupied by his landlady'sfamily in the daytime--and Mr. Grummer retired, to wipe out, by hismode of discharging his present commission, the insult which had beenfastened upon himself, and the other representative of His Majesty--thebeadle--in the course of the morning.
While these resolute and determined preparations for the conservationof the King's peace were pending, Mr. Pickwick and his friends,wholly unconscious of the mighty events in progress, had sat quietlydown to dinner; and very talkative and companionable they all were.Mr. Pickwick was in the very act of relating his adventure of thepreceding night, to the great amusement of his followers, Mr. Tupmanespecially, when the door opened and a somewhat forbidding countenancepeeped into the room. The eyes in the forbidding countenance lookedvery earnestly at Mr. Pickwick, for several seconds, and were toall appearance satisfied with their investigation; for the body towhich the forbidding countenance belonged, slowly brought itself intothe apartment, and presented the form of an elderly individual intop-boots--not to keep the reader any longer in suspense, in short, theeyes were the wandering eyes of Mr. Grummer, and the body was the bodyof the same gentleman.
Mr. Grummer's mode of proceeding was professional, but peculiar. Hisfirst act was to bolt the door on the inside; his second, to polish hishead and countenance very carefully with a cotton handkerchief; histhird, to place his hat, with the cotton handkerchief in it, on thenearest chair; and his fourth, to produce from the breast-pocket of hiscoat a short truncheon, surmounted by a brazen crown, with which hebeckoned to Mr. Pickwick with a grave and ghost-like air.
Mr. Snodgrass was the first to break the astonished silence. He lookedsteadily at Mr. Grummer for a brief space, and then said emphatically:"This is a private room, sir. A private room."
Mr. Grummer shook his head, and replied, "No room's private to HisMajesty when the street door's once passed. That's law. Some peoplemaintains that an Englishman's house is his castle. That's gammon."
The Pickwickians gazed on each other with wondering eyes.
"Which is Mr. Tupman?" inquired Mr. Grummer. He had an intuitiveperception of Mr. Pickwick; he knew _him_ at once.
"My name's Tupman," said that gentleman.
"My name's Law," said Mr. Grummer.
"What?" said Mr. Tupman.
"Law," replied Mr. Grummer, "law, civil power, and exekative; them'smy titles; here's my authority. Blank Tupman, blank Pickvick--againstthe peace of our sufferin Lord the King--stattit in that case madeand purwided--and all regular. I apprehend you Pickvick! Tupman--theaforesaid."
"What do you mean by this insolence?" said Mr. Tupman, starting up."Leave the room!"
"Halloo," said Mr. Grummer, retreating very expeditiously to the door,and opening it an inch or two, "Dubbley."
"Well," said a
deep voice from the passage.
"Come for'ard, Dubbley."
At the word of command, a dirty-faced man, something over six feethigh, and stout in proportion, squeezed himself through the half-opendoor (making his face very red in the process), and entered the room.
"Is the other specials outside, Dubbley?" inquired Mr. Grummer.
Mr. Dubbley, who was a man of few words, nodded assent.
"Order in the diwision under your charge, Dubbley," said Mr. Grummer.
Mr. Dubbley did as he was desired; and half a dozen men, each with ashort truncheon and a brass crown, flocked into the room. Mr. Grummerpocketed his staff and looked at Mr. Dubbley; Mr. Dubbley pocketed_his_ staff and looked at the division; the division pocketed _their_staffs and looked at Messrs. Tupman and Pickwick.
Mr. Pickwick and his followers rose as one man.
"What is the meaning of this atrocious intrusion upon my privacy?" saidMr. Pickwick.
"Who dares apprehend me?" said Mr. Tupman.
"What do you want here, scoundrels?" said Mr. Snodgrass.
Mr. Winkle said nothing, but he fixed his eyes on Grummer, and bestoweda look upon him, which, if he had had any feeling, must have piercedhis brain. As it was, however, it had no visible effect upon himwhatever.
When the executive perceived that Mr. Pickwick and his friends weredisposed to resist the authority of the law, they very significantlyturned up their coat sleeves, as if knocking them down in the firstinstance, and taking them up afterwards, were a mere professional actwhich had only to be thought of, to be done, as a matter of course.This demonstration was not lost upon Mr. Pickwick. He conferred a fewmoments with Mr. Tupman apart, and then signified his readiness toproceed to the Mayor's residence, merely begging the parties then andthere assembled, to take notice, that it was his firm intention toresent this monstrous invasion of his privileges as an Englishman, theinstant he was at liberty; whereat the parties then and there assembledlaughed very heartily, with the single exception of Mr. Grummer, whoseemed to consider that any slight cast upon the divine right ofmagistrates, was a species of blasphemy, not to be tolerated.
But when Mr. Pickwick had signified his readiness to bow to the laws ofhis country; and just when the waiters and hostlers, and chamber-maids,and post-boys, who had anticipated a delightful commotion from histhreatened obstinacy, began to turn away, disappointed and disgusted,a difficulty arose which had not been foreseen. With every sentimentof veneration for the constituted authorities, Mr. Pickwick resolutelyprotested against making his appearance in the public streets,surrounded and guarded by the officers of justice, like a commoncriminal. Mr. Grummer, in the then disturbed state of public feeling(for it was half-holiday, and the boys had not yet gone home), asresolutely protested against walking on the opposite side of the way,and taking Mr. Pickwick's parole that he would go straight to themagistrate's; and both Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Tupman as strenuouslyobjected to the expense of a post-coach, which was the only respectableconveyance that could be obtained. The dispute ran high, and thedilemma lasted long; and just as the executive were on the point ofovercoming Mr. Pickwick's objection to walking to the magistrate's,by the trite expedient of carrying him thither, it was recollectedthat there stood in the inn-yard, an old sedan-chair, which havingbeen originally built for a gouty gentleman with funded property,would hold Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Tupman, at least as conveniently as amodern post-chaise. The chair was hired, and brought into the hall;Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Tupman squeezed themselves inside, and pulleddown the blinds; a couple of chairmen were speedily found; and theprocession started in grand order. The specials surrounded the body ofthe vehicle; Mr. Grummer and Mr. Dubbley marched triumphantly in front;Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle walked arm in arm behind; and the unsoapedof Ipswich brought up the rear.
The shopkeepers of the town, although they had a very indistinctnotion of the nature of the offence, could not but be much edifiedand gratified by this spectacle. Here was the strong arm of the law,coming down with twenty gold-beater force, upon two offenders fromthe metropolis itself; the mighty engine was directed by their ownmagistrate, and worked by their own officers; and both the criminals,by their united efforts, were securely shut up in the narrow compass ofone sedan-chair. Many were the expressions of approval and admirationwhich greeted Mr. Grummer, as he headed the cavalcade, staff in hand;loud and long were the shouts raised by the unsoaped; and amidst theseunited testimonials of public approbation, the procession moved slowlyand majestically along.
Mr. Weller, habited in his morning jacket with the black calicosleeves, was returning in a rather desponding state from anunsuccessful survey of the mysterious house with the green gate,when raising his eyes, he beheld a crowd pouring down the street,surrounding an object which had very much the appearance of asedan-chair. Willing to divert his thoughts from the failure of hisenterprise, he stepped aside to see the crowd pass; and finding thatthey were cheering away, very much to their own satisfaction, forthwithbegan (by way of raising his spirits) to cheer too, with all his mightand main.
Mr. Grummer passed, and Mr. Dubbley passed, and the sedan passed, andthe body-guard of specials passed, and Sam was still responding to theenthusiastic cheers of the mob, and waving his hat about as if he werein the very last extreme of the wildest joy (though, of course, he hadnot the faintest idea of the matter in hand), when he was suddenlystopped by the unexpected appearance of Mr. Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass.
"What's the row, gen'l'm'n?" cried Sam. "Who have they got in this herewatch-box in mournin'?"
Both gentlemen replied together, but their words were lost in thetumult.
"Who?" cried Sam again.
Once more was a joint reply returned; and, though the words wereinaudible, Sam saw by the motion of the two pairs of lips that they haduttered the magic word "Pickwick."
This was enough. In another minute Mr. Weller had made his way throughthe crowd, stopped the chairmen, and confronted the portly Grummer.
"Hallo, old gen'l'm'n!" said Sam. "Who have you got in this hereconwayance?"
"Stand back," said Mr. Grummer, whose dignity, like the dignity ofa great many other men, had been wondrously augmented by a littlepopularity.
"Knock him down, if he don't," said Mr. Dubbley.
"I'm wery much obliged to you, old gen'l'm'n!" replied Sam, "forconsulting my conwenience, and I'm still more obliged to the othergen'l'm'n, who looks as if he'd just escaped from a giant's carrywan,for his wery 'ansome suggestion; but I should perfer your givin' mea answer to my question, if it's all the same to you.--How are you,sir?" This last observation was addressed with a patronising air to Mr.Pickwick, who was peeping through the front window.
Mr. Grummer, perfectly speechless with indignation, dragged thetruncheon with the brass crown from its particular pocket, andflourished it before Sam's eyes.
"Ah," said Sam, "it's wery pretty, 'specially the crown, which isuncommon like the real one."
"Stand back!" said the outraged Mr. Grummer. By way of adding force tothe command, he thrust the brass emblem of royalty into Sam's neckclothwith one hand, and seized Sam's collar with the other: a complimentwhich Mr. Weller returned by knocking him down out of hand: havingpreviously, with the utmost consideration, knocked down a chairman forhim to lie upon.
Whether Mr. Winkle was seized with a temporary attack of that speciesof insanity which originates in a sense of injury, or animated by thisdisplay of Mr. Weller's valour, is uncertain; but certain it is, thathe no sooner saw Mr. Grummer fall than he made a terrific onslaughton a small boy who stood next to him; whereupon Mr. Snodgrass, ina truly Christian spirit, and in order that he might take no oneunawares, announced in a very loud tone that he was going to begin,and proceeded to take off his coat with the utmost deliberation. Hewas immediately surrounded and secured; and it is but common justiceboth to him and Mr. Winkle to say, that they did not make the slightestattempt to rescue either themselves or Mr. Weller: who, after a mostvigorous resistance, was overpowered by numbers and taken prisoner. T
heprocession then re-formed; the chairmen resumed their stations; and themarch was re-commenced.
Mr. Pickwick's indignation during the whole of this proceeding wasbeyond all bounds. He could just see Sam upsetting the specials, andflying about in every direction; and that was all he could see, for thesedan doors wouldn't open, and the blinds wouldn't pull up. At length,with the assistance of Mr. Tupman, he managed to push open the roof;and mounting on the seat, and steadying himself as well as he could, byplacing his hand on that gentleman's shoulder, Mr. Pickwick proceededto address the multitude; to dwell upon the unjustifiable manner inwhich he had been treated; and to call upon them to take notice thathis servant had been first assaulted. In this order they reached themagistrate's house; the chairmen trotting, the prisoners following, Mr.Pickwick oratorising, and the crowd shouting.