Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/257

197 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 197

•US see whether he calls himself Punch, when he comes to himself. He shall not bully me — he shall not bully me. Wheel him away."

Away Mr. Pickwick was wheeled in compliance with this imperious mandate ; and the great Captain Boldwig", swelling with indignation, proceeded on his walk.

Inexpressible was the astonishment of the little party when they returned, to find that Mr. Pickwick had disappeared, and taken the wheelbarrow with him. It was the most mysterious and unaccountable thing that was ever heard of. For a lame man to have got upon his legs without any previous notice, and walked off, would have been most extraordinary ; but when it came to his wheeling a heavy barrow before him, by way of amusement, it grew positively miraculous. They searched every nook and corner round, together and separately : they shouted, whistled, laughed, called — and all with the same result. Mr. Pickwick was not to be found ; and after some hours of fruitless search, they arrived at the unwelcome conclusion, that they must g-o home without him.

Meanwhile Mr. Pickwick had been wheeled to the Pound, and safely deposited therein, fast asleep in the wheelbarrow, to the immeasurable delight and satisfaction, not only of all the boys in the village, but three fourths of the whole population, who had gathered round in expectation of his waking. If their most intense gratification had been awakened by seeing him wheeled in, how many hundred-fold was their joy increased when, after a few indistinct cries of " Sam ! " he sat up in the barrow, and gazed with indescribable astonishment on the faces before him.

A general shout was of course the signal of his having woke up ; and his involuntary inquiry of " What's the matter?" occasioned another, louder than the first, if possible.

" Here's a game," roared the populace.

" Where am I ? " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.

'* In the Pound," replied the mob.

" How came I here ? What was I doing ? Where was I brought from?"

" Boldwig — Captain Boldwig," was the only reply.

" Let me out," cried Mr. Pickwick. " Where's ray servant ? Where are my friends ? "

" You ah't got no friends. Hurrah ! " And then there came a turnip, and then a potato, and then an egg, with a few other little tokens of the playful disposition of the many-headed.

How long this scene might have lasted, or how much Mr. Pickwick might have suffered, no one can tell, had not a carriage which was driving swiftly by, suddenly pulled up, from whence there descended old Wardle and Sam Weller, the former of whom, in far less time than it takes to write it, if not to read it, had made his way to Mr. Pickwick's side, and placed him in the vehicle, just as the latter had concluded the third and last round of a single combat with the town-beadle.

'' Run to the Justice's," cried a dozen voices.

" Ah, run avay," said Mr. Weller, jumping up on the box. ** Give ray compliments — Mr. Veller's compliments — to the Justice, and tell

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