"No "if" in the case, my dear Sir," said Perker triumphantly. "There is the very letter I speak of. Brought to my office by another woman at nine o"clock this morning, before I had set foot in this place, or held any communication with Mrs. Bardell, upon my honour." Selecting the letter from the bundle, the little lawyer laid it at Mr. Pickwick"s elbow, and took snuff for two consecutive minutes, without winking.
"Is this all you have to say to me?" inquired Mr. Pickwick mildly.
"Not quite," replied Perker. "I cannot undertake to say, at this moment, whether the wording of the cognovit, the nature of the ostensible consideration, and the proof we can get together about the whole conduct of the suit, will be sufficient to justify an indictment for conspiracy. I fear not, my dear Sir; they are too clever for that, I doubt. I do mean to say, however, that the whole facts, taken together, will be sufficient to justify you, in the minds of all reasonable men. And now, my dear Sir, I put it to you. This one hundred and fifty pounds, or whatever it may be --take it in round numbers--is nothing to you. A jury had decided against you; well, their verdict is wrong, but still they decided as they thought right, and it IS against you. You have now an opportunity, on easy terms, of placing yourself in a much higher position than you ever could, by remaining here; which would only be imputed, by people who didn"t know you, to sheer dogged, wrongheaded, brutal obstinacy; nothing else, my dear Sir, believe me. Can you hesitate to avail yourself of it, when it restores you to your friends, your old pursuits, your health and amus.e.m.e.nts; when it liberates your faithful and attached servant, whom you otherwise doom to imprisonment for the whole of your life; and above all, when it enables you to take the very magnanimous revenge--which I know, my dear sir, is one after your own heart--of releasing this woman from a scene of misery and debauchery, to which no man should ever be consigned, if I had my will, but the infliction of which on any woman, is even more frightful and barbarous. Now I ask you, my dear sir, not only as your legal adviser, but as your very true friend, will you let slip the occasion of attaining all these objects, and doing all this good, for the paltry consideration of a few pounds finding their way into the pockets of a couple of rascals, to whom it makes no manner of difference, except that the more they gain, the more they"ll seek, and so the sooner be led into some piece of knavery that must end in a crash? I have put these considerations to you, my dear Sir, very feebly and imperfectly, but I ask you to think of them. Turn them over in your mind as long as you please. I wait here most patiently for your answer."
Before Mr. Pickwick could reply, before Mr. Perker had taken one twentieth part of the snuff with which so unusually long an address imperatively required to be followed up, there was a low murmuring of voices outside, and then a hesitating knock at the door.
"Dear, dear," exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who had been evidently roused by his friend"s appeal; "what an annoyance that door is! Who is that?"
"Me, Sir," replied Sam Weller, putting in his head.
"I can"t speak to you just now, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. "I am engaged at this moment, Sam."
"Beg your pardon, Sir," rejoined Mr. Weller. "But here"s a lady here, Sir, as says she"s somethin" wery partickler to disclose."
"I can"t see any lady," replied Mr. Pickwick, whose mind was filled with visions of Mrs. Bardell.
"I wouldn"t make too sure o" that, Sir," urged Mr. Weller, shaking his head. "If you know"d who was near, sir, I rayther think you"d change your note; as the hawk remarked to himself vith a cheerful laugh, ven he heerd the robin-redbreast a-singin" round the corner."
"Who is it?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.
"Will you see her, Sir?" asked Mr. Weller, holding the door in his hand as if he had some curious live animal on the other side.
"I suppose I must," said Mr. Pickwick, looking at Perker.
"Well then, all in to begin!" cried Sam. "Sound the gong, draw up the curtain, and enter the two conspiraytors."
As Sam Weller spoke, he threw the door open, and there rushed tumultuously into the room, Mr. Nathaniel Winkle, leading after him by the hand, the identical young lady who at Dingley Dell had worn the boots with the fur round the tops, and who, now a very pleasing compound of blushes and confusion, and lilac silk, and a smart bonnet, and a rich lace veil, looked prettier than ever.
"Miss Arabella Allen!" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, rising from his chair.
"No," replied Mr. Winkle, dropping on his knees. "Mrs. Winkle. Pardon, my dear friend, pardon!"
Mr. Pickwick could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses, and perhaps would not have done so, but for the corroborative testimony afforded by the smiling countenance of Perker, and the bodily presence, in the background, of Sam and the pretty housemaid; who appeared to contemplate the proceedings with the liveliest satisfaction.
"Oh, Mr. Pickwick!" said Arabella, in a low voice, as if alarmed at the silence. "Can you forgive my imprudence?"
Mr. Pickwick returned no verbal response to this appeal; but he took off his spectacles in great haste, and seizing both the young lady"s hands in his, kissed her a great number of times-- perhaps a greater number than was absolutely necessary--and then, still retaining one of her hands, told Mr. Winkle he was an audacious young dog, and bade him get up. This, Mr. Winkle, who had been for some seconds scratching his nose with the brim of his hat, in a penitent manner, did; whereupon Mr. Pickwick slapped him on the back several times, and then shook hands heartily with Perker, who, not to be behind-hand in the compliments of the occasion, saluted both the bride and the pretty housemaid with right good-will, and, having wrung Mr, Winkle"s hand most cordially, wound up his demonstrations of joy by taking snuff enough to set any half-dozen men with ordinarily- constructed noses, a-sneezing for life. "Why, my dear girl," said Mr. Pickwick, "how has all this come about? Come! Sit down, and let me hear it all. How well she looks, doesn"t she, Perker?" added Mr. Pickwick, surveying Arabella"s face with a look of as much pride and exultation, as if she had been his daughter.
"Delightful, my dear Sir," replied the little man. "If I were not a married man myself, I should be disposed to envy you, you dog." Thus expressing himself, the little lawyer gave Mr. Winkle a poke in the chest, which that gentleman reciprocated; after which they both laughed very loudly, but not so loudly as Mr. Samuel Weller, who had just relieved his feelings by kissing the pretty housemaid under cover of the cupboard door.
"I can never be grateful enough to you, Sam, I am sure," said Arabella, with the sweetest smile imaginable. "I shall not forget your exertions in the garden at Clifton."
"Don"t say nothin" wotever about it, ma"am," replied Sam. "I only a.s.sisted natur, ma"am; as the doctor said to the boy"s mother, after he"d bled him to death."
"Mary, my dear, sit down," said Mr. Pickwick, cutting short these compliments. "Now then; how long have you been married, eh?"
Arabella looked bashfully at her lord and master, who replied, "Only three days."
"Only three days, eh?" said Mr. Pickwick. "Why, what have you been doing these three months?"
"Ah, to be sure!" interposed Perker; "come, account for this idleness. You see Mr. Pickwick"s only astonishment is, that it wasn"t all over, months ago."
"Why the fact is," replied Mr. Winkle, looking at his blushing young wife, "that I could not persuade Bella to run away, for a long time. And when I had persuaded her, it was a long time more before we could find an opportunity. Mary had to give a month"s warning, too, before she could leave her place next door, and we couldn"t possibly have done it without her a.s.sistance." "Upon my word," exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who by this time had resumed his spectacles, and was looking from Arabella to Winkle, and from Winkle to Arabella, with as much delight depicted in his countenance as warmheartedness and kindly feeling can communicate to the human face--"upon my word! you seem to have been very systematic in your proceedings. And is your brother acquainted with all this, my dear?"
"Oh, no, no," replied Arabella, changing colour. "Dear Mr. Pickwick, he must only know it from you--from your lips alone. He is so violent, so prejudiced, and has been so--so anxious in behalf of his friend, Mr, Sawyer," added Arabella, looking down, "that I fear the consequences dreadfully."
"Ah, to be sure," said Perker gravely. "You must take this matter in hand for them, my dear sir. These young men will respect you, when they would listen to n.o.body else. You must prevent mischief, my dear Sir. Hot blood, hot blood." And the little man took a warning pinch, and shook his head doubtfully.
"You forget, my love," said Mr. Pickwick gently, "you forget that I am a prisoner."
"No, indeed I do not, my dear Sir," replied Arabella. "I never have forgotten it. I have never ceased to think how great your sufferings must have been in this shocking place. But I hoped that what no consideration for yourself would induce you to do, a regard to our happiness might. If my brother hears of this, first, from you, I feel certain we shall be reconciled. He is my only relation in the world, Mr. Pickwick, and unless you plead for me, I fear I have lost even him. I have done wrong, very, very wrong, I know."Here poor Arabella hid her face in her handkerchief, and wept bitterly.
Mr. Pickwick"s nature was a good deal worked upon, by these same tears; but when Mrs. Winkle, drying her eyes, took to coaxing and entreating in the sweetest tones of a very sweet voice, he became particularly restless, and evidently undecided how to act, as was evinced by sundry nervous rubbings of his spectacle- gla.s.ses, nose, tights, head, and gaiters.
Taking advantage of these symptoms of indecision, Mr. Perker (to whom, it appeared, the young couple had driven straight that morning) urged with legal point and shrewdness that Mr. Winkle, senior, was still unacquainted with the important rise in life"s flight of steps which his son had taken; that the future expectations of the said son depended entirely upon the said Winkle, senior, continuing to regard him with undiminished feelings of affection and attachment, which it was very unlikely he would, if this great event were long kept a secret from him; that Mr. Pickwick, repairing to Bristol to seek Mr. Allen, might, with equal reason, repair to Birmingham to seek Mr. Winkle, senior; lastly, that Mr. Winkle, senior, had good right and t.i.tle to consider Mr. Pickwick as in some degree the guardian and adviser of his son, and that it consequently behoved that gentleman, and was indeed due to his personal character, to acquaint the aforesaid Winkle, senior, personally, and by word of mouth, with the whole circ.u.mstances of the case, and with the share he had taken in the transaction.
Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgra.s.s arrived, most opportunely, in this stage of the pleadings, and as it was necessary to explain to them all that had occurred, together with the various reasons pro and con, the whole of the arguments were gone over again, after which everybody urged every argument in his own way, and at his own length. And, at last, Mr. Pickwick, fairly argued and remonstrated out of all his resolutions, and being in imminent danger of being argued and remonstrated out of his wits, caught Arabella in his arms, and declaring that she was a very amiable creature, and that he didn"t know how it was, but he had always been very fond of her from the first, said he could never find it in his heart to stand in the way of young people"s happiness, and they might do with him as they pleased.
Mr. Weller"s first act, on hearing this concession, was to despatch Job Trotter to the ill.u.s.trious Mr. Pell, with an authority to deliver to the bearer the formal discharge which his prudent parent had had the foresight to leave in the hands of that learned gentleman, in case it should be, at any time, required on an emergency; his next proceeding was, to invest his whole stock of ready-money in the purchase of five-and-twenty gallons of mild porter, which he himself dispensed on the racket-ground to everybody who would partake of it; this done, he hurra"d in divers parts of the building until he lost his voice, and then quietly relapsed into his usual collected and philosophical condition.
At three o"clock that afternoon, Mr. Pickwick took a last look at his little room, and made his way, as well as he could, through the throng of debtors who pressed eagerly forward to shake him by the hand, until he reached the lodge steps. He turned here, to look about him, and his eye lightened as he did so. In all the crowd of wan, emaciated faces, he saw not one which was not happier for his sympathy and charity.
"Perker," said Mr. Pickwick, beckoning one young man towards him, "this is Mr. Jingle, whom I spoke to you about."
"Very good, my dear Sir," replied Perker, looking hard at Jingle. "You will see me again, young man, to-morrow. I hope you may live to remember and feel deeply, what I shall have to communicate, Sir."
Jingle bowed respectfully, trembled very much as he took Mr. Pickwick"s proffered hand, and withdrew.
"Job you know, I think?" said Mr. Pickwick, presenting that gentleman.
"I know the rascal," replied Perker good-humouredly. "See after your friend, and be in the way to-morrow at one. Do you hear? Now, is there anything more?"
"Nothing," rejoined Mr. Pickwick. "You have delivered the little parcel I gave you for your old landlord, Sam?"
"I have, Sir," replied Sam. "He bust out a-cryin", Sir, and said you wos wery gen"rous and thoughtful, and he only wished you could have him innockilated for a gallopin" consumption, for his old friend as had lived here so long wos dead, and he"d noweres to look for another." "Poor fellow, poor fellow!" said Mr. Pickwick. "G.o.d bless you, my friends!"
As Mr. Pickwick uttered this adieu, the crowd raised a loud shout. Many among them were pressing forward to shake him by the hand again, when he drew his arm through Perker"s, and hurried from the prison, far more sad and melancholy, for the moment, than when he had first entered it. Alas! how many sad and unhappy beings had he left behind!
A happy evening was that for at least one party in the George and Vulture; and light and cheerful were two of the hearts that emerged from its hospitable door next morning. The owners thereof were Mr. Pickwick and Sam Weller, the former of whom was speedily deposited inside a comfortable post-coach, with a little d.i.c.key behind, in which the latter mounted with great agility.
"Sir," called out Mr. Weller to his master.
"Well, Sam," replied Mr. Pickwick, thrusting his head out of the window.
"I wish them horses had been three months and better in the Fleet, Sir."
"Why, Sam?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.
"Wy, Sir," exclaimed Mr. Weller, rubbing his hands, "how they would go if they had been!"
CHAPTER XLVIII.
RELATES HOW Mr. PICKWICK, WITH THE a.s.sISTANCE OF SAMUEL WELLER, ESSAYED TO SOFTEN THE HEART OF Mr. BENJAMIN ALLEN, AND TO MOLLIFY THE WRATH OF Mr. ROBERT SAWYER.
Mr. Ben Allen and Mr. Bob Sawyer sat together in the little surgery behind the shop, discussing minced veal and future prospects, when the discourse, not unnaturally, turned upon the practice acquired by Bob the aforesaid, and his present chances of deriving a competent independence from the honourable profession to which he had devoted himself.
"Which, I think," observed Mr. Bob Sawyer, pursuing the thread of the subject--"which, I think, Ben, are rather dubious."
"What"s rather dubious?" inquired Mr. Ben Allen, at the same time sharpening his intellect with a draught of beer. "What"s dubious?"
"Why, the chances," responded Mr. Bob Sawyer.
"I forgot," said Mr. Ben Allen. "The beer has reminded me that I forgot, Bob--yes; they ARE dubious."
"It"s wonderful how the poor people patronise me," said Mr. Bob Sawyer reflectively. "They knock me up, at all hours of the night; they take medicine to an extent which I should have conceived impossible; they put on blisters and leeches with a perseverance worthy of a better cause; they make additions to their families, in a manner which is quite awful. Six of those last-named little promissory notes, all due on the same day, Ben, and all intrusted to me!"
"It"s very gratifying, isn"t it?" said Mr. Ben Allen, holding his plate for some more minced veal.
"Oh, very," replied Bob; "only not quite so much so as the confidence of patients with a shilling or two to spare would be. This business was capitally described in the advertis.e.m.e.nt, Ben. It is a practice, a very extensive practice--and that"s all."
"Bob," said Mr. Ben Allen, laying down his knife and fork, and fixing his eyes on the visage of his friend, "Bob, I"ll tell you what it is."
"What is it?" inquired Mr. Bob Sawyer.
"You must make yourself, with as little delay as possible, master of Arabella"s one thousand pounds."
"Three per cent. consolidated bank annuities, now standing in her name in the book or books of the governor and company of the Bank of England," added Bob Sawyer, in legal phraseology.
"Exactly so," said Ben. "She has it when she comes of age, or marries. She wants a year of coming of age, and if you plucked up a spirit she needn"t want a month of being married."
"She"s a very charming and delightful creature," quoth Mr. Robert Sawyer, in reply; "and has only one fault that I know of, Ben. It happens, unfortunately, that that single blemish is a want of taste. She don"t like me."
"It"s my opinion that she don"t know what she does like," said Mr. Ben Allen contemptuously.
"Perhaps not," remarked Mr. Bob Sawyer. "But it"s my opinion that she does know what she doesn"t like, and that"s of more importance."
"I wish," said Mr. Ben Allen, setting his teeth together, and speaking more like a savage warrior who fed on raw wolf"s flesh which he carved with his fingers, than a peaceable young gentleman who ate minced veal with a knife and fork--"I wish I knew whether any rascal really has been tampering with her, and attempting to engage her affections. I think I should a.s.sa.s.sinate him, Bob."
"I"d put a bullet in him, if I found him out," said Mr. Sawyer, stopping in the course of a long draught of beer, and looking malignantly out of the porter pot. "If that didn"t do his business, I"d extract it afterwards, and kill him that way."
Mr. Benjamin Allen gazed abstractedly on his friend for some minutes in silence, and then said-- "You have never proposed to her, point-blank, Bob?"
"No. Because I saw it would be of no use," replied Mr. Robert Sawyer.
"You shall do it, before you are twenty-four hours older," retorted Ben, with desperate calmness. "She shall have you, or I"ll know the reason why. I"ll exert my authority."
"Well," said Mr. Bob Sawyer, "we shall see."
"We shall see, my friend," replied Mr. Ben Allen fiercely. He paused for a few seconds, and added in a voice broken by emotion, "You have loved her from a child, my friend. You loved her when we were boys at school together, and, even then, she was wayward and slighted your young feelings. Do you recollect, with all the eagerness of a child"s love, one day pressing upon her acceptance, two small caraway-seed biscuits and one sweet apple, neatly folded into a circular parcel with the leaf of a copy-book?"
"I do," replied Bob Sawyer.
"She slighted that, I think?" said Ben Allen.
"She did," rejoined Bob. "She said I had kept the parcel so long in the pockets of my corduroys, that the apple was unpleasantly warm."
"I remember," said Mr. Allen gloomily. "Upon which we ate it ourselves, in alternate bites."
Bob Sawyer intimated his recollection of the circ.u.mstance last alluded to, by a melancholy frown; and the two friends remained for some time absorbed, each in his own meditations.
While these observations were being exchanged between Mr. Bob Sawyer and Mr. Benjamin Allen; and while the boy in the gray livery, marvelling at the unwonted prolongation of the dinner, cast an anxious look, from time to time, towards the gla.s.s door, distracted by inward misgivings regarding the amount of minced veal which would be ultimately reserved for his individual cravings; there rolled soberly on through the streets of Bristol, a private fly, painted of a sad green colour, drawn by a chubby sort of brown horse, and driven by a surly-looking man with his legs dressed like the legs of a groom, and his body attired in the coat of a coachman. Such appearances are common to many vehicles belonging to, and maintained by, old ladies of economic habits; and in this vehicle sat an old lady who was its mistress and proprietor.
"Martin!" said the old lady, calling to the surly man, out of the front window.
"Well?" said the surly man, touching his hat to the old lady.
"Mr. Sawyer"s," said the old lady.
"I was going there," said the surly man.
The old lady nodded the satisfaction which this proof of the surly man"s foresight imparted to her feelings; and the surly man giving a smart lash to the chubby horse, they all repaired to Mr. Bob Sawyer"s together.
"Martin!" said the old lady, when the fly stopped at the door of Mr. Robert Sawyer, late Nockemorf.
"Well?" said Martin.
"Ask the lad to step out, and mind the horse."
"I"m going to mind the horse myself," said Martin, laying his whip on the roof of the fly.
"I can"t permit it, on any account," said the old lady; "your testimony will be very important, and I must take you into the house with me. You must not stir from my side during the whole interview. Do you hear?"
"I hear," replied Martin.
"Well; what are you stopping for?"
"Nothing," replied Martin. So saying, the surly man leisurely descended from the wheel, on which he had been poising himself on the tops of the toes of his right foot, and having summoned the boy in the gray livery, opened the coach door, flung down the steps, and thrusting in a hand enveloped in a dark wash-leather glove, pulled out the old lady with as much unconcern in his manner as if she were a bandbox.
"Dear me!" exclaimed the old lady. "I am so flurried, now I have got here, Martin, that I"m all in a tremble."