"What"s your name, sir?" inquired the judge.
"Sam Weller, my lord."
"Do you spell it with a "V or a "W?" inquired the judge.
"That depends upon the taste and fancy of the speller, my lord," replied Sam, "but I spells it with a "V.""
Here a voice in the gallery exclaimed aloud, "Quite right, too, Samuel; quite right. Put it down a we, my lord, put it down a we."
"Who is that that dares to address the court?" said the little judge, looking up.
"I rayther suspect it was my father, my lord," replied Sam.
"Do you see him here now?" said the judge.
"No, I don"t my lord," replied Sam, staring right up in the roof of the court.
"If you could have pointed him out, I would have committed him instantly," said the judge.
Sam bowed his acknowledgments.
"Now, Mr. Weller," said Sergeant Buzfuz, "I believe you are in the service of Mr. Pickwick; speak up, if you please."
"I mean to speak up, sir," replied Sam. "I am in the service o" that "ere gen"l"man, and a wery good service it is."
"Little to do, and plenty to get, I suppose?" said Sergeant Buzfuz.
"Oh, quite enough to get, sir, as the soldier said ven they ordered him three hundred and fifty lashes," replied Sam.
"You must not tell us what the soldier said," interposed the judge, "it"s not evidence."
"Wery good, my lord."
"Now, Mr. Weller," said Sergeant Buzfuz, "do you recollect anything particular happening on the morning when you were first engaged by the defendant?"
"Yes, I do, sir. I had a reg"lar new fit-out o" clothes that mornin", and that was a wery partickler and uncommon circ.u.mstance vith me in those days."
"Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Weller, that you saw nothing of the fainting of the plaintiff in the arms of the defendant?"
"Certainly not; I was in the pa.s.sage till they called me up, and then the old lady wasn"t there."
"Have you a pair of eyes, Mr. Weller?"
"Yes, that"s just it," replied Sam. "If they was a pair o" patent double million magnifyin" gas microscopes of hextra power, p"raps I might be able to see through a flight o" stairs and a deal door, but bein" only eyes, you see, my wision"s limited."
"Do you remember going up to Mrs. Bardell"s house one night last November? I suppose you went to have a little talk about this trial, eh, Mr. Weller?" said Sergeant Buzfuz, looking knowingly at the jury.
"I went up to pay the rent," said Sam; "but the ladies gets into a wery great state of admiration at the honourable conduct o" Mr. Dodson and Fogg, and said what a wery gen"rous thing it was o" them to have taken up the case on spec., and to have charged nothin" at all for costs, unless they got "em out of Mr. Pickwick."
At this very unexpected reply the spectators t.i.ttered, and Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz said curtly, "Stand down, sir."
Sergeant Snubbin then addressed the jury on behalf of the defendant, and after that Mr. Justice Stareleigh summed up.
At the end of a quarter of an hour the jury brought in a verdict for the plaintiff with 750 damages.
In the court-room Mr. Pickwick encountered Messrs. Dodson and Fogg, rubbing their hands with satisfaction.
"Not one farthing of costs or damages do you ever get out of me, if I spend the rest of my existence in a debtor"s prison," said Mr. Pickwick.
"We shall see about that," said Mr. Fogg grinning.
Outside Mr. Pickwick and his friends made their way to a hackney coach, and Sam Weller was just preparing to jump upon the box when his father stood before him. The old gentleman shook his head gravely and said in warning accents, "I know"d what "ud come o" this here mode o" doin"
bisness. Oh, Sammy, Sammy, vy worn"t there a alleybi?"
"But surely, my dear sir," said Perker to his client the following morning, "you don"t really mean, seriously now, that you won"t pay these costs and damages?"
"Not one halfpenny," said Mr. Pickwick.
"Hooroar for the principle, as the money-lender said ven he vouldn"t renew the bill," observed Mr. Samuel Weller.
_III.--In the Fleet Prison_
Two months later Mr. Pickwick was arrested for the non-payment of costs and damages and taken to the Fleet Prison. And so, for the first time in his life, Mr. Pickwick found himself within the walls of a debtor"s prison.
"Where am I to sleep to-night?" inquired Mr. Pickwick of the turnkey, and after some discussion it was discovered there was a bed to let.
"It ain"t a large "un, but it"s an out-and-outer to sleep in. This way, sir," said the turnkey.
Mr. Pickwick, accompanied by Sam Weller, followed his guide up a staircase and along a gallery; at the end of this was an apartment containing eight or nine iron bedsteads.
Mr. Pickwick felt very low-spirited and uncomfortable when he was left alone, and he went slowly to bed. He was awakened from his slumbers by the noise of his bed-fellows, one of whom, wearing grey cotton stockings, was performing a hornpipe; while another, evidently very drunk, was warbling as much as he could recollect of a comic song; the third, a man with thick, bushy whiskers, was applauding both performers.
"My name is Smangle, sir," said the man with the whiskers to Mr.
Pickwick.
"Mine is Mivins," said the man in the stockings.
"Well; but come," said Mr. Smangle, after a.s.suring Mr. Pickwick a great many times that he entertained a very high respect for the feelings of a gentleman, "this is but dry work. Let"s rinse our mouths with a drop of burnt sherry; the last-comer shall stand it, Mivins shall fetch it, and I"ll help to drink it. That"s a fair and gentleman-like division of labour, anyhow."
Mr. Pickwick, unwilling to hazard a quarrel, gladly a.s.sented to the proposition.
When Mr. Pickwick opened his eyes next morning, the first object upon which they rested was Samuel Weller, seated upon a small black portmanteau.
He soon learnt that money was in the Fleet just what money was out of it; and that if he wished it he could have a room to himself, if he was willing to pay for it.
"There"s a capital room up in the coffee-room flight that belongs to a Chancery prisoner," said the turnkey. "It"ll stand you in a pound a week. Lord! Why didn"t you say at first that you was willing to come down handsome?"