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

by Charles Dickens

  CHAPTER XXVI

  _Containing some Particulars relative to the Double Knock, and other Matters: among which certain Interesting Disclosures relative to Mr. Snodgrass and a Young Lady are by no means irrelevant to this History_

  The object that presented itself to the eyes of the astonished clerkwas a boy--a wonderfully fat boy--habited as a serving lad, standingupright on the mat, with his eyes closed as if in sleep. He hadnever seen such a fat boy, in or out of a travelling caravan; andthis, coupled with the calmness and repose of his appearance, sovery different from what was reasonably to have been expected of theinflictor of the knocks, smote him with wonder.

  "What's the matter?" inquired the clerk.

  The extraordinary boy replied not a word; but he nodded once, andseemed, to the clerk's imagination, to snore feebly.

  "Where do you come from?" inquired the clerk.

  The boy made no sign. He breathed heavily, but in all other respectswas motionless.

  The clerk repeated the question thrice, and receiving no answer,prepared to shut the door, when the boy suddenly opened his eyes,winked several times, sneezed once, and raised his hand as if torepeat the knocking. Finding the door open, he stared about him withastonishment, and at length fixed his eyes on Mr. Lowten's face.

  "What the devil do you knock in that way for?" inquired the clerk,angrily.

  "Which way?" said the boy, in a slow and sleepy voice.

  "Why, like forty hackney-coachmen," replied the clerk.

  "Because master said I wasn't to leave off knocking till they openedthe door, for fear I should go to sleep," said the boy.

  "Well," said the clerk, "what message have you brought?"

  "He's down-stairs," rejoined the boy.

  "Who?"

  "Master. He wants to know whether you're at home."

  Mr. Lowten bethought himself, at this juncture, of looking out of thewindow. Seeing an open carriage with a hearty old gentleman in it,looking up very anxiously, he ventured to beckon him; on which, the oldgentleman jumped out directly.

  "That's your master in the carriage, I suppose?" said Lowten.

  The boy nodded.

  All further inquiries were superseded by the appearance of old Wardle,who, running up-stairs and just recognising Lowten, passed at once intoMr. Perker's room.

  "Pickwick!" said the old gentleman. "Your hand, my boy! Why have Inever heard until the day before yesterday of your suffering yourselfto be cooped up in jail? And why did you let him do it, Perker?"

  "I couldn't help it, my dear sir," replied Perker, with a smile and apinch of snuff: "you know how obstinate he is."

  "Of course I do, of course I do," replied the old gentleman. "I amheartily glad to see him, notwithstanding. I will not lose sight of himagain, in a hurry."

  With these words, Wardle shook Mr. Pickwick's hand once more, andhaving done the same by Perker, threw himself into an arm-chair, hisjolly red face shining again with smiles and health.

  "Well!" said Wardle. "Here are pretty goings on--a pinch of your snuff,Perker, my boy--never were such times, eh?"

  "What do you mean?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.

  "Mean!" replied Wardle. "Why, I think the girls are all running mad;that's no news, you'll say? Perhaps it's not; but it's true, for allthat."

  "You have not come up to London, of all places in the world, to tell us_that_, my dear sir, have you?" inquired Perker.

  "No, not altogether," replied Wardle; "though it was the main cause ofmy coming. How's Arabella?"

  "Very well," replied Mr. Pickwick, "and will be delighted to see you, Iam sure."

  "Black-eyed little jilt!" replied Wardle, "I had a great idea ofmarrying her myself, one of these odd days. But I am glad of it too,very glad."

  _His jolly red face shining with smiles and health_]

  "How did the intelligence reach you?" asked Mr. Pickwick.

  "Oh, it came to my girls, of course," replied Wardle. "Arabella wrote,the day before yesterday, to say she had made a stolen match withouther husband's father's consent, and so you had gone down to get it whenhis refusing it couldn't prevent the match, and all the rest of it. Ithought it a very good time to say something serious to _my_ girls;so I said what a dreadful thing it was that children should marrywithout their parents' consent, and so forth; but, bless your hearts, Icouldn't make the least impression upon them. They thought it such amuch more dreadful thing that there should have been a wedding withoutbridesmaids, that I might as well have preached to Joe himself."

  Here the old gentleman stopped to laugh; and having done so, to hisheart's content, presently resumed.

  "But this is not the best of it, it seems. This is only half thelove-making and plotting that have been going forward. We have beenwalking on mines for the last six months, and they're sprung at last."

  "What do you mean?" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, turning pale; "no othersecret marriage, I hope?"

  "No, no," replied old Wardle; "not so bad as that; no."

  "What then?" inquired Mr. Pickwick; "am I interested in it?"

  "Shall I answer that question, Perker?" said Wardle.

  "If you don't commit yourself by doing so, my dear sir."

  "Well then, you are," said Wardle.

  "How?" asked Mr. Pickwick, anxiously. "In what way?"

  "Really," replied Wardle, "you're such a fiery sort of young fellowthat I am almost afraid to tell you; but, however, if Perker will sitbetween us to prevent mischief, I'll venture."

  Having closed the room-door, and fortified himself with anotherapplication to Perker's snuff-box, the old gentleman proceeded with hisgreat disclosure in these words.

  "The fact is, that my daughter Bella--Bella, who married young Trundle,you know."

  "Yes, yes, we know," said Mr. Pickwick, impatiently.

  "Don't alarm me at the very beginning. My daughter Bella, Emily havinggone to bed with a headache after she had read Arabella's letter tome, sat herself down by my side, the other evening, and began to talkover this marriage affair. 'Well, pa,' she says, 'what do you thinkof it?' 'Why, my dear,' I said, 'I suppose it's all very well; I hopeit's for the best.' I answered in this way because I was sitting beforethe fire at the time drinking my grog rather thoughtfully, and I knewmy throwing in an undecided word now and then, would induce her tocontinue talking. Both my girls are pictures of their dear mother, andas I grow old I like to sit with only them by me; for their voicesand looks carry me back to the happiest period of my life, and makeme, for the moment, as young as I used to be then, though not quite solight-hearted. 'It's quite a marriage of affection, pa,' said Bella,after a short silence. 'Yes, my dear,' said I, 'but such marriages donot always turn out the happiest.'"

  "I question that, mind!" interposed Mr. Pickwick, warmly.

  "Very good," responded Wardle, "question anything you like when it'syour turn to speak, but don't interrupt me."

  "I beg your pardon," said Mr. Pickwick.

  "Granted," replied Wardle. "'I am sorry to hear you express youropinion against marriages of affection, pa,' said Bella, colouring alittle. 'I was wrong; I ought not to have said so, my dear, either,'said I, patting her cheek as kindly as a rough old fellow like me couldpat it, 'for your mother's was one, and so was yours.' 'It's not thatI meant, pa,' said Bella. 'The fact is, pa, I wanted to speak to youabout Emily.'"

  Mr. Pickwick started.

  "What's the matter now?" inquired Wardle, stopping in his narrative.

  "Nothing," replied Mr. Pickwick. "Pray go on."

  "I never could spin out a story," said Wardle, abruptly. "It must comeout sooner or later, and it'll save us all a great deal of time if itcomes at once. The long and the short of it is, then, that Bella atlast mustered up courage to tell me that Emily was very unhappy; thatshe and your young friend Snodgrass had been in constant correspondenceand communication ever since last Christmas; that she had verydutifully made up her mind to run away with him in laudable imitationof her old friend and schoolfellow; but that having some compunct
ionsof conscience on the subject, inasmuch as I had always been ratherkindly disposed to both of them, they had thought it better in thefirst instance to pay me the compliment of asking whether I wouldhave any objection to their being married in the usual matter-of-factmanner. There now, Mr. Pickwick, if you can make it convenient toreduce your eyes to their usual size again, and to let me hear what youthink we ought to do, I shall feel rather obliged to you!"

  The testy manner in which the hearty old gentleman uttered this lastsentence was not wholly unwarranted; for Mr. Pickwick's face hadsettled down into an expression of blank amazement and perplexity,quite curious to behold.

  "Snodgrass! Since last Christmas!" were the first broken words thatissued from the lips of the confounded gentleman.

  "Since last Christmas," replied Wardle; "that's plain enough, and verybad spectacles we must have worn, not to have discovered it before."

  "I don't understand it," said Mr. Pickwick, ruminating; "I reallycannot understand it."

  "It's easy enough to understand," replied the choleric old gentleman."If you had been a younger man, you would have been in the secret longago; and besides," added Wardle after a moment's hesitation, "the truthis, that, knowing nothing of this matter, I have rather pressed Emilyfor four or five months past, to receive favourably (if she could; Iwould never attempt to force a girl's inclinations) the addresses ofa young gentleman down in our neighbourhood. I have no doubt that,girl-like, to enhance her own value and increase the ardour of Mr.Snodgrass, she has represented this matter in very glowing colours, andthat they have both arrived at the conclusion that they are a terriblypersecuted pair of unfortunates, and have no resource but clandestinematrimony or charcoal. Now the question is, what's to be done?"

  "What have _you_ done?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.

  "I?"

  "I mean, what did you do when your married daughter told you this?"

  "Oh, I made a fool of myself of course," rejoined Wardle.

  "Just so," interposed Perker, who had accompanied this dialogue withsundry twitchings of his watch-chain, vindictive rubbings of his nose,and other symptoms of impatience. "That's very natural; but how?"

  "I went into a great passion and frightened my mother into a fit," saidWardle.

  "That was judicious," remarked Perker; "and what else?"

  "I fretted and fumed all next day, and raised a great disturbance,"rejoined the old gentleman. "At last I got tired of rendering myselfunpleasant and making everybody miserable; so I hired a carriage atMuggleton, and putting my own horses in it, came up to town, underpretence of bringing Emily to see Arabella."

  "Miss Wardle is with you, then?" said Mr. Pickwick.

  "To be sure she is," replied Wardle. "She is at Osborne's hotel in theAdelphi at this moment, unless your enterprising friend has run awaywith her since I came out this morning."

  "You are reconciled, then?" said Perker.

  "Not a bit of it," answered Wardle; "she has been crying and mopingever since, except last night, between tea and supper, when she made agreat parade of writing a letter that I pretended to take no notice of."

  "You want my advice in this matter, I suppose?" said Perker, lookingfrom the musing face of Mr. Pickwick to the eager countenance ofWardle, and taking several consecutive pinches of his favouritestimulant.

  "I suppose so," said Wardle, looking at Mr. Pickwick.

  "Certainly," replied that gentleman.

  "Well then," said Perker, rising and pushing his chair back, "my adviceis, that you both walk away together, or ride away, or get away by somemeans or other, for I'm tired of you, and just talk this matter overbetween you. If you have not settled it by the next time I see you,I'll tell you what to do."

  "This is satisfactory," said Wardle, hardly knowing whether to smile orbe offended.

  "Pooh, pooh, my dear sir," returned Perker. "I know you both a greatdeal better than you know yourselves. You have settled it already, toall intents and purposes."

  Thus expressing himself, the little gentleman poked his snuff-box,first into the chest of Mr. Pickwick, and then into the waistcoat ofMr. Wardle, upon which they all three laughed, but especially thetwo last-named gentlemen, who at once shook hands again, without anyobvious or particular reason.

  "You dine with me to-day," said Wardle to Perker, as he showed themout.

  "Can't promise, my dear sir, can't promise," replied Perker. "I'll lookin, in the evening, at all events."

  "I shall expect you at five," said Wardle. "Now, Joe!" And Joe havingbeen at length awakened, the two friends departed in Mr. Wardle'scarriage, which in common humanity had a dickey behind for the fat boy,who, if there had been a foot-board instead, would have rolled off andkilled himself in his very first nap.

  Driving to the George and Vulture, they found that Arabella and hermaid had sent for a hackney-coach immediately on the receipt of a shortnote from Emily announcing her arrival in town, and had proceededstraight to the Adelphi. As Wardle had business to transact in thecity, they sent the carriage and the fat boy to his hotel, with theinformation that he and Mr. Pickwick would return together for dinnerat five o'clock.

  Charged with this message, the fat boy returned, slumbering aspeaceably in his dickey over the stones, as if it had been a down bedon watch-springs. By some extraordinary miracle he awoke of his ownaccord when the coach stopped, and giving himself a good shake to stirup his faculties, went up-stairs to execute his commission.

  Now whether the shake had jumbled the fat boy's faculties together,instead of arranging them in proper order, or had roused such aquantity of new ideas within him as to render him oblivious ofordinary forms and ceremonies, or (which is also possible) had provedunsuccessful in preventing his falling asleep as he ascended thestairs, it is an undoubted fact that he walked into the sitting-roomwithout previously knocking at the door; and so beheld a gentleman withhis arms clasping his young mistress's waist, sitting very lovingly byher side on a sofa, while Arabella and her pretty handmaid feigned tobe absorbed in looking out of a window at the other end of the room.At sight of this phenomenon, the fat boy uttered an interjection, theladies a scream, and the gentleman an oath, almost simultaneously.

  "Wretched creature, what do you want here?" said the gentleman, who itis needless to say was Mr. Snodgrass.

  To this the fat boy, considerably terrified, briefly responded,"Missis."

  "What do you want me for?" inquired Emily, turning her head aside, "youstupid creature!"

  "Master and Mr. Pickwick is a going to dine here at five," replied thefat boy.

  "Leave the room!" said Mr. Snodgrass, glaring upon the bewildered youth.

  "No, no, no," added Emily hastily. "Bella, dear, advise me."

  Upon this Emily and Mr. Snodgrass, and Arabella and Mary, crowded intoa corner, and conversed earnestly in whispers for some minutes, duringwhich the fat boy dozed.

  "Joe," said Arabella, at length, looking round with a most bewitchingsmile, "how do you do, Joe?"

  "Joe," said Emily, "you're a very good boy; I won't forget you, Joe."

  "Joe," said Mr. Snodgrass, advancing to the astonished youth, andseizing his hand, "I didn't know you before. There's five shillings foryou, Joe!"

  "I'll owe you five," said Arabella, "for old acquaintance' sake,you know;" and another most captivating smile was bestowed upon thecorpulent intruder.

  The fat boy's perception being slow, he looked rather puzzled at firstto account for this sudden prepossession in his favour, and staredabout him in a very alarming manner. At length his broad face began toshow symptoms of a grin of proportionately broad dimensions; and then,thrusting half-a-crown into each of his pockets, and a hand and wristafter it, he burst into a hoarse laugh: being for the first and onlytime in his existence.

  "He understands us, I see," said Arabella.

  "He had better have something to eat, immediately," remarked Emily.

  The fat boy almost laughed again when he heard this suggestion. Mary,after a little more whispering, tripped forth from the
group, and said:

  "I am going to dine with you to-day, sir, if you have no objection."

  "This way," said the fat boy, eagerly. "There is such a jollymeat-pie!"

  With these words, the fat boy led the way down-stairs; his prettycompanion captivating all the waiters and angering all the chambermaidsas she followed him to the eating-room.

  There was the meat-pie of which the youth had spoken so feelingly, andthere were, moreover, a steak, and a dish of potatoes, and a pot ofporter.

  "Sit down," said the fat boy. "Oh my eye, how prime! I am _so_ hungry."

  Having apostrophised his eye, in a species of rapture, five or sixtimes, the youth took the head of the little table, and Mary seatedherself at the bottom.

  "Will you have some of this?" said the fat boy, plunging into the pieup to the very ferrules of the knife and fork.

  "A little, if you please," replied Mary.

  The fat boy assisted Mary to a little, and himself to a great deal, andwas just going to begin eating when he suddenly laid down his knife andfork, leant forward in his chair, and letting his hands, with the knifeand fork in them, fall on his knees, said, very slowly:

  "I say! How nice you look!"

  This was said in an admiring manner, and was, so far, gratifying; butstill there was enough of the cannibal in the young gentleman's eyes torender the compliment a double one.

  "Dear me, Joseph," said Mary, affecting to blush, "what do you mean?"

  The fat boy gradually recovering his former position, replied with aheavy sigh, and remaining thoughtful for a few moments, drank a longdraught of porter. Having achieved this feat he sighed again, andapplied himself assiduously to the pie.

  "What a nice young lady Miss Emily is!" said Mary, after a long silence.

  The fat boy had by this time finished the pie. He fixed his eyes onMary, and replied:

  "I knows a nicerer."

  "Indeed!" said Mary.

  "Yes, indeed!" replied the fat boy, with unwonted vivacity.

  "What's her name?" inquired Mary.

  "What's yours?"

  "Mary."

  "So's hers," said the fat boy. "You're her." The boy grinned to addpoint to the compliment, and put his eyes into something between asquint and a cast, which there is reason to believe he intended for anogle.

  "You mustn't talk to me in that way," said Mary; "you don't mean it."

  "Don't I, though?" replied the fat boy; "I say!"

  "Well?"

  "Are you going to come here regular?"

  "No," rejoined Mary, shaking her head, "I'm going away to-night. Why?"

  "Oh!" said the fat boy in a tone of strong feeling; "how we should haveenjoyed ourselves at meals, if you had been!"

  "I might come here sometimes perhaps, to see you," said Mary, plaitingthe table-cloth in assumed coyness, "if you would do me a favour."

  The fat boy looked from the pie-dish to the steak, as if he thought afavour must be in a manner connected with something to eat; and thentook out one of the half-crowns and glanced at it nervously.

  "Don't you understand me?" said Mary, looking slyly in his fat face.

  Again he looked at the half-crown, and said faintly, "No."

  "The ladies want you not to say anything to the old gentleman about theyoung gentleman having been up-stairs; and I want you too."

  "Is that all?" said the fat boy, evidently very much relieved as hepocketed the half-crown again. "Of course I ain't a going to."

  "You see," said Mary, "Mr. Snodgrass is very fond of Miss Emily, andMiss Emily's very fond of him, and if you were to tell about it, theold gentleman would carry you all away miles into the country, whereyou'd see nobody."

  "No, no, I won't tell," said the fat boy, stoutly.

  "That's a dear," said Mary. "Now it's time I went up-stairs and got mylady ready for dinner."

  "Don't go yet," urged the fat boy.

  "I must," replied Mary. "Good-bye, for the present."

  The fat boy, with elephantine playfulness, stretched out his arms toravish a kiss; but as it required no great agility to elude him, hisfair enslaver had vanished before he closed them again; upon whichthe apathetic youth ate a pound or so of steak with a sentimentalcountenance, and fell fast asleep.

  There was so much to say up-stairs, and there were so many plansto concert for elopement and matrimony in the event of old Wardlecontinuing to be cruel, that it wanted only half an hour of dinner whenMr. Snodgrass took his final adieu. The ladies ran to Emily's bedroomto dress, and the lover, taking up his hat, walked out of the room.He had scarcely got outside the door, when he heard Wardle's voicetalking loudly, and looking over the banisters, beheld him, followedby some other gentlemen, coming straight up-stairs. Knowing nothing ofthe house, Mr. Snodgrass in his confusion stepped hastily back intothe room he had just quitted, and passing from thence into an innerapartment (Mr. Wardle's bed-chamber), closed the door softly, just asthe persons he had caught a glimpse of entered the sitting-room. Thesewere Mr. Wardle, Mr. Pickwick, Mr. Nathaniel Winkle, and Mr. BenjaminAllen, whom he had no difficulty in recognising by their voices.

  "Very lucky I had the presence of mind to avoid them," thought Mr.Snodgrass with a smile, and walking on tiptoe to another door near thebedside; "this opens into the same passage, and I can walk quietly andcomfortably away."

  There was only one obstacle to his walking quietly and comfortablyaway, which was that the door was locked and the key gone.

  "Let us have some of your best wine to-day, waiter," said old Wardle,rubbing his hands.

  "You shall have some of the very best, sir," replied the waiter.

  "Let the ladies know we have come in."

  "Yes, sir."

  Devoutly and ardently did Mr. Snodgrass wish that the ladies couldknow _he_ had come in. He ventured once to whisper "Waiter!" throughthe keyhole, but as the probability of the wrong waiter coming to hisrelief flashed upon his mind, together with a sense of the strongresemblance between his own situation and that in which anothergentleman had been recently found in a neighbouring hotel (an accountof whose misfortunes had appeared under the head of "Police" in thatmorning's paper), he sat himself on a portmanteau, and trembledviolently.

  "We won't wait a minute for Perker," said Wardle, looking at his watch;"he is always exact. He will be here in time, if he means to come; andif he does not, it's of no use waiting. Ha! Arabella!"

  "My sister!" exclaimed Mr. Benjamin Allen, folding her in a mostromantic embrace.

  "Oh, Ben dear, how you do smell of tobacco," said Arabella, ratherovercome by this mark of affection.

  "Do I?" said Mr. Benjamin Allen. "Do I, Bella? Well, perhaps I do."

  Perhaps he did; having just left a pleasant little smoking party oftwelve medical students, in a small back parlour with a large fire.

  "But I am delighted to see you," said Mr. Ben Allen. "Bless you, Bella!"

  "There," said Arabella, bending forward to kiss her brother; "don'ttake hold of me again, Ben dear, because you tumble me so."

  At this point of the reconciliation, Mr. Ben Allen allowed his feelingsand the cigars and porter to overcome him, and looked round upon thebeholders with damp spectacles.

  "Is nothing to be said to me?" cried Wardle with open arms.

  "A great deal," whispered Arabella, as she received the old gentleman'shearty caress and congratulation. "You are a hard-hearted, unfeeling,cruel monster!"

  "You are a little rebel," replied Wardle in the same tone, "and I amafraid I shall be obliged to forbid you the house. People like you,who get married in spite of everybody, ought not to be let loose onsociety. But come!" added the old gentleman, aloud, "here's the dinner,you shall sit by me. Joe; why, damn the boy, he's awake!"

  To the great distress of his master, the fat boy was indeed in a stateof remarkable vigilance; his eyes being wide open, and looking as ifthey intended to remain so. There was an alacrity in his manner, too,which was equally unaccountable; every time his eyes met those of Emilyor Arabella, he smirked and
grinned: once Wardle could have sworn hesaw him wink.

  This alteration in the fat boy's demeanour originated in his increasedsense of his own importance, and the dignity he acquired from havingbeen taken into the confidence of the young ladies; and the smirks,and grins, and winks, were so many condescending assurances that theymight depend upon his fidelity. As these tokens were rather calculatedto awaken suspicion than to allay it, and were somewhat embarrassingbesides, they were occasionally answered by a frown or shake of thehead from Arabella, which the fat boy considering as hints to be on hisguard, expressed his perfect understanding of, by smirking, grinning,and winking, with redoubled assiduity.

  "Joe," said Mr. Wardle, after an unsuccessful search in all hispockets, "is my snuff-box on the sofa?"

  "No, sir," replied the fat boy.

  "Oh, I recollect; I left it on my dressing-table this morning," saidWardle. "Run into the next room and fetch it."

  The fat boy went into the next room; and having been absent about aminute, returned with the snuff-box, and the palest face that ever afat boy wore.

  "What's the matter with the boy!" exclaimed Wardle.

  "Nothen's the matter with me," replied Joe, nervously.

  "Have you been seeing any spirits?" inquired the old gentleman.

  "Or taking any?" added Ben Allen.

  "I think you're right," whispered Wardle, across the table. "He isintoxicated, I'm sure."

  Ben Allen replied that he thought he was; and as that gentleman hadseen a vast deal of the disease in question, Wardle was confirmed in animpression which had been hovering about his mind for half an hour, andat once arrived at the conclusion that the fat boy was drunk.

  "Just keep your eye upon him for a few minutes," murmured Wardle. "Weshall soon find out whether he is or not."

  The unfortunate youth had only interchanged a dozen words with Mr.Snodgrass: that gentleman having implored him to make a private appealto some friend to release him, and then pushed him out with thesnuff-box, lest his prolonged absence should lead to a discovery. Heruminated a little with a most disturbed expression of face, and leftthe room in search of Mary.

  But Mary had gone home after dressing her mistress, and the fat boycame back again more disturbed than before.

  Wardle and Mr. Ben Allen exchanged glances.

  "Joe!" said Wardle.

  "Yes, sir."

  "What did you go away for?"

  The fat boy looked hopelessly in the face of everybody at table andstammered out that he didn't know.

  "Oh," said Wardle, "you don't know, eh? Take this cheese to Mr.Pickwick."

  Now, Mr. Pickwick being in the very best health and spirits, hadbeen making himself perfectly delightful all dinner-time, and was atthis moment engaged in an energetic conversation with Emily and Mr.Winkle: bowing his head, courteously, in the emphasis of his discourse,gently waving his left hand to lend force to his observations, and allglowing with placid smiles. He took a piece of cheese from the plate,and was on the point of turning round to renew the conversation, whenthe fat boy, stooping so as to bring his head on a level with that ofMr. Pickwick, pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, and made themost horrible and hideous face that was ever seen out of a Christmaspantomime.

  _Pointed with his thumb over his shoulder_]

  "Dear me!" said Mr. Pickwick, starting, "what a very--eh?" He stopped,for the fat boy had drawn himself up, and was, or pretended to be, fastasleep.

  "What's the matter?" inquired Wardle.

  "This is such an extremely singular lad!" replied Mr. Pickwick, lookinguneasily at the boy. "It seems an odd thing to say, but upon my word Iam afraid that, at times, he is a little deranged."

  "Oh! Mr. Pickwick, pray don't say so," cried Emily and Arabella, bothat once.

  "I am not certain, of course," said Mr. Pickwick, amidst profoundsilence, and looks of general dismay; "but his manner to me this momentwas really very alarming. Oh!" ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, suddenlyjumping up with a short scream. "I beg your pardon, ladies, but at thatmoment he ran some sharp instrument into my leg. Really he is not safe."

  "He's drunk," roared old Wardle, passionately. "Ring the bell! Call thewaiters! He's drunk."

  "I ain't," said the fat boy, falling on his knees as his master seizedhim by the collar. "I ain't drunk."

  "Then you're mad; that's worse. Call the waiters," said the oldgentleman.

  "I ain't mad; I'm sensible," rejoined the fat boy, beginning to cry.

  "Then, what the devil do you run sharp instruments into Mr. Pickwick'slegs for?" inquired Wardle, angrily.

  "He wouldn't look at me," replied the boy. "I wanted to speak to him."

  "What did you want to say?" asked half a dozen voices at once.

  The fat boy gasped, looked at the bedroom door, gasped again, and wipedtwo tears away with the knuckle of each of his forefingers.

  "What did you want to say?" demanded Wardle, shaking him.

  "Stop!" said Mr. Pickwick; "allow me. What did you wish to communicateto me, my poor boy?"

  "I want to whisper to you," replied the fat boy.

  "You want to bite his ear off, I suppose," said Wardle. "Don't comenear him; he's vicious; ring the bell and let him be taken down-stairs."

  Just as Mr. Winkle caught the bell rope in his hand, it was arrestedby a general expression of astonishment; the captive lover, his faceburning with confusion, suddenly walked in from the bedroom, and made acomprehensive bow to the company.

  "Hallo!" cried Wardle, releasing the fat boy's collar, and staggeringback. "What's this!"

  "I have been concealed in the next room, sir, since you returned,"explained Mr. Snodgrass.

  "Emily, my girl," said Wardle, reproachfully, "I detest meanness anddeceit; this is unjustifiable and indelicate in the highest degree. Idon't deserve this at your hands, Emily, indeed!"

  "Dear papa," said Emily, "Arabella knows--everybody here knows--Joeknows--that I was no party to this concealment. Augustus, for Heaven'ssake, explain it!"

  Mr. Snodgrass, who had only waited for a hearing, at once recounted howhe had been placed in his then distressing predicament; how the fear ofgiving rise to domestic dissensions had alone prompted him to avoid Mr.Wardle on his entrance; how he merely meant to depart by another door,but, finding it locked, had been compelled to stay against his will.It was a painful situation to be placed in; but he now regretted itthe less, inasmuch as it afforded him an opportunity of acknowledging,before their mutual friends, that he loved Mr. Wardle's daughter,deeply and sincerely; that he was proud to avow that the feeling wasmutual; and that if thousands of miles were placed between them, oroceans rolled their waters, he could never for an instant forget thosehappy days, when first--and so on.

  Having delivered himself to this effect, Mr. Snodgrass bowed again,looked into the crown of his hat, and stepped towards the door.

  "Stop!" shouted Wardle. "Why in the name of all that's----"

  "Inflammable," mildly suggested Mr. Pickwick, who thought somethingworse was coming.

  "Well--that's inflammable," said Wardle, adopting the substitute,"couldn't you say all this to me in the first instance?"

  "Or confide in me?" added Mr. Pickwick.

  "Dear, dear," said Arabella, taking up the defence, "what is the useof asking all that now, especially when you know you had set yourcovetous old heart on a richer son-in-law, and are so wild and fiercebesides, that everybody is afraid of you, except me. Shake hands withhim, and order him some dinner, for goodness gracious sake, for helooks half-starved; and pray have your wine up at once, for you'll notbe tolerable until you have taken two bottles at least."

  The worthy old gentleman pulled Arabella's ear, kissed her without thesmallest scruple, kissed his daughter also with great affection, andshook Mr. Snodgrass warmly by the hand.

  "She is right on one point at all events," said the old gentleman,cheerfully. "Ring for the wine!"

  The wine came, and Perker came up-stairs at the same moment. Mr.Snodgrass had dinner at a side tabl
e, and, when he had despatched it,drew his chair next Emily, without the smallest opposition on the oldgentleman's part.

  The evening was excellent. Little Mr. Perker came out wonderfully,told various comic stories, and sang a serious song which was almostas funny as the anecdotes. Arabella was very charming, Mr. Wardle veryjovial, Mr. Pickwick very harmonious, Mr. Ben Allen very uproarious,the lovers very silent, Mr. Winkle very talkative, and all of them veryhappy.