The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club, v. 2 (of 2)

by Charles Dickens

  CHAPTER XVIII

  _Records a touching Act of delicate Feeling, not unmixed with Pleasantry, achieved and performed by Messrs. Dodson and Fogg_

  It was within a week of the close of the month of July, that a hackneycabriolet, number unrecorded, was seen to proceed at a rapid pace upGoswell Street; three people were squeezed into it besides the driver,who sat in his own particular little dickey at the side; over the apronwere hung two shawls, belonging to two small vixenish-looking ladiesunder the apron; between whom, compressed into a very small compass,was stowed away a gentleman of heavy and subdued demeanour, who,whenever he ventured to make an observation, was snapped up short byone of the vixenish ladies before-mentioned. Lastly, the two vixenishladies and the heavy gentleman were giving the driver contradictorydirections, all tending to the one point that he should stop at Mrs.Bardell's door; which the heavy gentleman, in direct opposition to, anddefiance of, the vixenish ladies, contended was a green door and not ayellow one.

  "Stop at the house with the green door, driver," said the heavygentleman.

  "Oh! You perwerse creetur!" exclaimed one of the vixenish ladies."Drive to the 'ouse with the yellow door, cabmin."

  Upon this, the cabman, who in a sudden effort to pull up at the housewith the green door had pulled the horse up so high that he nearlypulled him backward into the cabriolet, let the animal's fore-legs downto the ground again, and paused.

  "Now vere am I to pull up?" inquired the driver. "Settle it amongyourselves. All I ask is, vere?"

  Here the contest was renewed with increased violence; and the horsebeing troubled with a fly on his nose, the cabman humanely employed hisleisure in lashing him about on the head, on the counter-irritationprinciple.

  "Most wotes carries the day!" said one of the vixenish ladies atlength. "The 'ouse with the yellow door, cabmin."

  But after the cabriolet had dashed up, in splendid style, to thehouse with the yellow door: "making," as one of the vixenish ladiestriumphantly said, "acterrally more noise than if one had come inone's own carriage"--and after the driver had dismounted to assist theladies in getting out--the small round head of Master Thomas Bardellwas thrust out of the one pair window of a house with a red door, a fewnumbers off.

  "Aggrawatin' thing!" said the vixenish lady last mentioned, darting awithering glance at the heavy gentleman.

  "My dear, it's not my fault," said the gentleman.

  "Don't talk to me, you creetur, don't," retorted the lady. "The housewith the red door, cabmin. Oh! If ever a woman was troubled with aruffinly creetur, that takes a pride and pleasure in disgracing hiswife on every possible occasion afore strangers, I am that woman!"

  "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Raddle," said the other littlewoman, who was no other than Mrs. Cluppins.

  "What have I been a doing of?" asked Mr. Raddle.

  "Don't talk to me, don't, you brute, for fear I should be perwoked toforgit my sect and strike you!" said Mrs. Raddle.

  While this dialogue was going on, the driver was most ignominiouslyleading the horse, by the bridle, up to the house with the red door,which Master Bardell had already opened. Here was a mean and low wayof arriving at a friend's house! No dashing up, with all the fire andfury of the animal; no jumping down of the driver; no loud knocking atthe door; no opening of the apron with a crash at the very last moment,for fear of the ladies sitting in a draught; and then the man handingthe shawls out, afterwards, as if he were a private coachman! The wholeedge of the thing had been taken off; it was flatter than walking.

  "Well, Tommy," said Mrs. Cluppins, "how's your poor dear mother?"

  "Oh, she's very well," replied Master Bardell. "She's in the frontparlour, all ready. I'm ready too, I am." Here Master Bardell put hishands in his pockets, and jumped off and on the bottom step of the door.

  "Is anybody else a goin', Tommy?" said Mrs. Cluppins, arranging herpelerine.

  "Mrs. Sanders is going, she is," replied Tommy. "I'm going too, I am."

  "Drat the boy!" said little Mrs. Cluppins. "He thinks of nobody buthimself. Here, Tommy, dear."

  "Well?" said Master Bardell.

  "Who else is a goin', lovey?" said Mrs. Cluppins in an insinuatingmanner.

  "Oh! Mrs. Rogers is a goin'," replied Master Bardell, opening his eyesvery wide as he delivered the intelligence.

  "What! The lady as has taken the lodgings?" ejaculated Mrs. Cluppins.

  Master Bardell put his hands deeper down into his pockets, and noddedexactly thirty-five times, to imply that it was the lady lodger, and noother.

  "Bless us!" said Mrs. Cluppins. "It's quite a party!"

  "Ah, if you knew what was in the cupboard, you'd say so," repliedMaster Bardell.

  "What is there, Tommy?" said Mrs. Cluppins, coaxingly. "You'll tell_me_, Tommy, I know."

  "No, I won't," replied Master Bardell, shaking his head, and applyinghimself to the bottom step again.

  "Drat the child!" muttered Mrs. Cluppins. "What a prowokin' littlewretch it is! Come, Tommy, tell your dear Cluppy."

  "Mother said I wasn't to," rejoined Master Bardell. "I'm a goin' tohave some, I am." Cheered by this prospect, the precocious boy appliedhimself to his infantile treadmill with increased vigour.

  The above examination of a child of tender years took place whileMr. and Mrs. Raddle and the cab-driver were having an altercationconcerning the fare: which, terminating at this point in favour of thecabman, Mrs. Raddle came up tottering.

  "Lauk, Mary Ann! what's the matter?" said Mrs. Cluppins.

  "It's put me all over in such a tremble, Betsy," replied Mrs. Raddle."Raddle ain't like a man; he leaves everythink to me."

  This was scarcely fair upon the unfortunate Mr. Raddle, who had beenthrust aside by his good lady in the commencement of the dispute, andperemptorily commanded to hold his tongue. He had no opportunity ofdefending himself, however, for Mrs. Raddle gave unequivocal signsof fainting; which being perceived from the parlour window, Mrs.Bardell, Mrs. Sanders, the lodger, and the lodger's servant, dartedprecipitately out, and conveyed her into the house: all talking atthe same time, and giving utterance to various expressions of pityand condolence, as if she were one of the most suffering mortals onearth. Being conveyed into the front parlour, she was there depositedon a sofa; and the lady from the first floor running up _to_ the firstfloor, returned with a bottle of sal volatile, which, holding Mrs.Raddle tight round the neck, she applied in all womanly kindness andpity to her nose, until that lady with many plunges and struggles wasfain to declare herself decidedly better.

  "Ah, poor thing!" said Mrs. Rogers, "I know what her feelin's is, toowell."

  "Ah, poor thing! so do I," said Mrs. Sanders: and then all the ladiesmoaned in unison, and said they knew what it was, and they pitied herfrom their hearts, they did. Even the lodger's little servant, who wasthirteen years old, and three feet high, murmured her sympathy.

  "But what's been the matter?" said Mrs. Bardell.

  "Ah, what has decomposed you, ma'am?" inquired Mrs. Rogers.

  "I have been a good deal flurried," replied Mrs. Raddle, in areproachful manner. Thereupon the ladies cast indignant looks at Mr.Raddle.

  "Why, the fact is," said that unhappy gentleman, stepping forward,"when we alighted at this door, a dispute arose with the driver of thecabrioily----" A loud scream from his wife, at the mention of thisword, rendered all further explanation inaudible.

  "You'd better leave us to bring her round, Raddle," said Mrs. Cluppins."She'll never get better as long as you're here."

  All the ladies concurred in this opinion; so Mr. Raddle was pushedout of the room, and requested to give himself an airing in the backyard. Which he did for about a quarter of an hour, when Mrs. Bardellannounced to him with a solemn face that he might come in now, butthat he must be very careful how he behaved towards his wife. She knewhe didn't mean to be unkind; but Mary Ann was very far from strong,and, if he didn't take care, he might lose her when he least expectedit, which would be a very dreadful reflection for him af
terwards; andso on. All this Mr. Raddle heard with great submission, and presentlyreturned to the parlour in a most lamb-like manner.

  "Why, Mrs. Roger, ma'am," said Mrs. Bardell, "you've never beenintroduced, I declare! Mr. Raddle, ma'am; Mrs. Cluppins, ma'am; Mrs.Raddle, ma'am."

  "Which is Mrs. Cluppins's sister," suggested Mrs. Sanders.

  "Oh, indeed!" said Mrs. Rogers, graciously; for she was the lodger, andher servant was in waiting, so she was more gracious than intimate, inright of her position. "Oh, indeed!"

  Mrs. Raddle smiled sweetly, Mr. Raddle bowed, and Mrs. Cluppins said"she was sure she was very happy to have a opportunity of being knownto a lady which she had heerd so much in favour of, as Mrs. Rogers."A compliment which the last-named lady acknowledged with gracefulcondescension.

  "Well, Mr. Raddle," said Mrs. Bardell; "I'm sure you ought to feel verymuch honoured at you and Tommy being the only gentlemen to escort somany ladies all the way to the Spaniards, at Hampstead. Don't you thinkhe ought, Mrs. Rogers, ma'am?"

  "Oh, certainly, ma'am," said Mrs. Rogers; after whom all the otherladies responded "Oh, certainly."

  "Of course I feel it, ma'am," said Mr. Raddle, rubbing his hands, andevincing a slight tendency to brighten up a little. "Indeed, to tellyou the truth, I said, as we was a coming along in the cabrioily----"

  At the recapitulation of the word which awakened so many painfulrecollections, Mrs. Raddle applied her handkerchief to her eyes again,and uttered a half-suppressed scream; so Mrs. Bardell frowned uponMr. Raddle, to intimate that he had better not say anything more, anddesired Mrs. Rogers's servant, with an air, to "put on the wine."

  This was the signal for displaying the hidden treasures of thecloset, which comprised sundry plates of oranges and biscuits, anda bottle of old crusted port--that at one and nine--with another ofthe celebrated East India sherry at fourteen-pence, which were allproduced in honour of the lodger, and afforded unlimited satisfactionto everybody. After great consternation had been excited in the mindof Mrs. Cluppins, by an attempt on the part of Tommy to recount how hehad been cross-examined regarding the cupboard then in action (whichwas fortunately nipped in the bud by his imbibing half a glass of theold crusted "the wrong way," and thereby endangering his life for someseconds), the party walked forth in quest of a Hampstead stage. Thiswas soon found, and in a couple of hours they all arrived safely in theSpaniards' Tea-gardens, where the luckless Mr. Raddle's very first actnearly occasioned his good lady a relapse; it being neither more norless than to order tea for seven, whereas (as the ladies one and allremarked), what could have been easier than for Tommy to have drankout of anybody's cup--or everybody's, if that was all--when the waiterwasn't looking: which would have saved one head of tea, and the teajust as good!

  However, there was no help for it, and the tea-tray came, with sevencups and saucers, and bread and butter on the same scale. Mrs. Bardellwas unanimously voted into the chair, and Mrs Rogers being stationed onher right hand, and Mrs. Raddle on her left, the meal proceeded withgreat merriment and success.

  "How sweet the country is, to be sure!" sighed Mrs. Rogers; "I almostwish I lived in it always."

  "Oh, you wouldn't like that, ma'am," replied Mrs. Bardell, ratherhastily; for it was not at all advisable, with reference to thelodgings, to encourage such notions; "you wouldn't like it, ma'am."

  "Oh! I should think you was a deal too lively and sought-after to becontent with the country, ma'am," said little Mrs. Cluppins.

  "Perhaps I am, ma'am. Perhaps I am," sighed the first-floor lodger.

  "For lone people as have got nobody to care for them, or take careof them, or as have been hurt in their mind, or that kind of thing,"observed Mr. Raddle, plucking up a little cheerfulness, and lookinground, "the country is all very well. The country for a wounded spirit,they say."

  Now, of all the things in the world that the unfortunate man could havesaid, any would have been preferable to this. Of course Mrs. Bardellburst into tears, and requested to be led from the table instantly;upon which the affectionate child began to cry too, most dismally.

  "Would anybody believe, ma'am," exclaimed Mrs. Raddle, turning fiercelyto the first-floor lodger, "that a woman could be married to such aunmanly creetur, which can tamper with a woman's feelings as he does,every hour in the day, ma'am?"

  "My dear," remonstrated Mr. Raddle, "I didn't mean anything, my dear."

  "You didn't mean!" repeated Mrs. Raddle, with great scorn and contempt."Go away. I can't bear the sight on you, you brute."

  "You must not flurry yourself, Mary Ann," interposed Mrs. Cluppins."You really must consider yourself, my dear, which you never do. Now goaway, Raddle, there's a good soul, or you'll only aggravate her."

  "You had better take your tea by yourself, sir, indeed," said Mrs.Rogers, again applying the smelling-bottle.

  Mrs. Sanders, who according to custom was very busy with the bread andbutter, expressed the same opinion, and Mr. Raddle quietly retired.

  After this, there was a great hoisting up of Master Bardell, who wasrather a large size for hugging, into his mother's arms: in whichoperation he got his boots in the tea-board, and occasioned someconfusion among the cups and saucers. But that description of faintingfits, which is contagious among ladies, seldom lasts long; so when hehad been well kissed and a little cried over, Mrs. Bardell recovered,set him down again, wondered how she could have been so foolish, andpoured out some more tea.

  It was at this moment that the sound of approaching wheels was heard,and that the ladies, looking up, saw a hackney-coach stop at thegarden-gate.

  "More company!" said Mrs. Sanders.

  "It's a gentleman," said Mrs. Raddle.

  "Well, if it ain't Mr. Jackson, the young man from Dodson and Fogg's!"cried Mrs. Bardell. "Why, gracious! Surely Mr. Pickwick can't have paidthe damages."

  "Or hoffered marriage!" said Mrs. Cluppins.

  "Dear me, how slow the gentleman is," exclaimed Mrs. Rogers: "Whydoesn't he make haste!"

  _A shabby man in black leggings_]

  As the lady spoke these words, Mr. Jackson turned from the coach wherehe had been addressing some observations to a shabby man in blackleggings, who had just emerged from the vehicle with a thick ash-stickin his hand, and made his way to the place where the ladies wereseated; winding his hair round the brim of his hat as he came along.

  "Is anything the matter? Has anything taken place, Mr. Jackson?" saidMrs. Bardell, eagerly.

  "Nothing whatever, ma'am," replied Mr. Jackson. "How de do, ladies? Ihave to ask pardon, ladies, for intruding--but the law, ladies, thelaw." With this apology Mr. Jackson smiled, made a comprehensive bow,and gave his hair another wind. Mrs. Rogers whispered Mrs. Raddle thathe was really an elegant young man.

  "I called in Goswell Street," resumed Jackson, "and hearing that youwere here, from the slavey, took a coach and came on. Our people wantyou down in the city directly, Mrs. Bardell."

  "Lor!" ejaculated that lady, starting at the sudden nature of thecommunication.

  "Yes," said Jackson, biting his lips. "It's very important and pressingbusiness which can't be postponed on any account. Indeed, Dodsonexpressly said so to me, and so did Fogg. I've kept the coach onpurpose for you to go back in."

  "How very strange!" exclaimed Mrs. Bardell.

  The ladies agreed that it _was_ very strange, but were unanimously ofopinion that it must be very important, or Dodson and Fogg would neverhave sent; and further, that the business being urgent, she ought torepair to Dodson and Fogg's without any delay.

  There was a certain degree of pride and importance about being wantedby one's lawyers in such a monstrous hurry, that was by no meansdispleasing to Mrs. Bardell, especially as it might be reasonablysupposed to enhance her consequence in the eyes of the first-floorlodger. She simpered a little, affected extreme vexation andhesitation, and at last arrived at the conclusion that she supposed shemust go.

  "But won't you refresh yourself after your walk, Mr. Jackson?" saidMrs. Bardell, persuasively.
<
br />   "Why, really there ain't much time to lose," replied Jackson; "and I'vegot a friend here," he continued, looking towards the man with the ashstick.

  "Oh, ask your friend to come here, sir," said Mrs. Bardell. "Pray askyour friend here, sir."

  "Why, thankee, I'd rather not," said Mr. Jackson, with someembarrassment of manner. "He's not much used to ladies' society, and itmakes him bashful. If you'll order the waiter to deliver him anythingshort, he won't drink it off at once, won't he--only try him!" Mr.Jackson's fingers wandered playfully round his nose, at this portion ofhis discourse, to warn his hearers that he was speaking ironically.

  The waiter was at once despatched to the bashful gentleman, and thebashful gentleman took something; Mr. Jackson also took something, andthe ladies took something, for hospitality's sake. Mr. Jackson thensaid he was afraid it was time to go; upon which, Mrs. Sanders, Mrs.Cluppins, and Tommy (who it was arranged should accompany Mrs. Bardell:leaving the others to Mr. Raddle's protection), got into the coach.

  "Isaac," said Jackson, as Mrs. Bardell prepared to get in: looking upat the man with the ash stick, who was seated on the box, smoking acigar.

  "Well?"

  "_This_ is Mrs. Bardell."

  "Oh, I knowed that long ago," said the man.

  Mrs. Bardell got in, Mr. Jackson got in after her, and away they drove.Mrs. Bardell could not help ruminating on what Mr. Jackson's friend hadsaid. Shrewd creatures, those lawyers. Lord bless us, how they findpeople out!

  "Sad thing about these costs of our people's, ain't it," said Jackson,when Mrs. Cluppins and Mrs. Sanders had fallen asleep; "your bill ofcosts, I mean?"

  "I'm very sorry they can't get them," replied Mrs. Bardell. "But if youlaw-gentlemen do these things on speculation, why you must get a lossnow and then, you know."

  "You gave them a _cognovit_ for the amount of your costs, after thetrial, I'm told?" said Jackson.

  "Yes. Just as a matter of form," replied Mrs. Bardell.

  "Certainly," replied Jackson, drily. "Quite a matter of form. Quite."

  On they drove, and Mrs. Bardell fell asleep. She was awakened, aftersome time, by the stopping of the coach.

  "Bless us!" said the lady. "Are we at Freeman's Court?"

  "We're not going quite so far," replied Jackson. "Have the goodness tostep out."

  Mrs. Bardell, not yet thoroughly awake, complied. It was a curiousplace: a large wall, with a gate in the middle, and a gaslight burninginside.

  "Now, ladies," cried the man with the ash stick, looking into thecoach, and shaking Mrs. Sanders to wake her, "Come!" Rousing herfriend, Mrs. Sanders alighted. Mrs. Bardell, leaning on Jackson's arm,and leading Tommy by the hand, had already entered the porch. Theyfollowed.

  The room they turned into was even more odd-looking than the porch.Such a number of men standing about! And they stared so!

  "What place is this?" inquired Mrs. Bardell, pausing.

  "Only one of our public offices," replied Jackson, hurrying her througha door, and looking round to see that the other women were following."Look sharp, Isaac!"

  "Safe and sound," replied the man with the ash stick. The door swungheavily after them, and they descended a small flight of steps.

  "Here we are at last. All right and tight, Mrs. Bardell!" said Jackson,looking exultingly around.

  "What do you mean?" said Mrs. Bardell, with a palpitating heart.

  "Just this," replied Jackson, drawing her a little on one side; "don'tbe frightened, Mrs. Bardell. There never was a more delicate man thanDodson, ma'am, or a more humane man than Fogg. It was their duty, inthe way of business, to take you in execution for them costs; butthey were anxious to spare your feelings as much as they could. Whata comfort it must be to you, to think how it's been done! This is theFleet, ma'am. Wish you good night, Mrs. Bardell. Good night, Tommy!"

  As Jackson hurried away, in company with the man with the ash stick,another man with a key in his hand, who had been looking on, led thebewildered female to a second short flight of steps leading to thedoorway. Mrs. Bardell screamed violently; Tommy roared; Mrs. Cluppinsshrunk within herself; and Mrs. Sanders made off, without more ado.For, there stood the injured Mr. Pickwick, taking his nightly allowanceof air; and beside him leant Samuel Weller, who, seeing Mrs. Bardell,took his hat off with mock reverence, while his master turnedindignantly on his heel.

  "Don't bother the woman," said the turnkey to Weller: "she's just comein."

  "A pris'ner" said Sam, quickly replacing his hat. "Who's theplaintives? What for? Speak up, old feller."

  "Dodson and Fogg," replied the man; "execution on cognovit for costs."

  "Here Job, Job!" shouted Sam, dashing into the passage. "Run to Mr.Perker's, Job. _I_ want him directly. I see some good in this. Here's agame. Hooray! vere's the gov'nor."

  But there was no reply to these inquiries, for Job had startedfuriously off, the instant he received his commission, and Mrs. Bardellhad fainted in real downright earnest.