Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/512

424 I

424 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF

man.
 * ' You're a fool, and may go down stairs " — said the scientific gentle-

" Thank you Sir" — said Pniffle. And down he went. But the scientific gentleman could not rest under the idea of the in- genious treatise he had projected, being lost to the world, which mUvSt inevitably be the case, if the speculation of the ingenious Mr. Pruffle were not stifled in its birth. He put on his hat and walked quickly down the garden, determined to investigate the matter to the very bottom.

Now, shortly before the scientific gentleman' walked out into the gar- den, Mr. Pickwick had run down the lane as fast as he could, to con- vey a false alarm that somebody was coming that way, occasionally drawing back the slide of the dark lantern to keep himself from the ditch. The alarm was no sooner given, than Mr. Winkle scrambled back over the wall, and Arabella ran into the house ; — the garden gate was shut, and the three adventurers were making the best of their way down the lane, when they were startled by the scientific gentleman un- locking his garden gate.

<^ Hold hard," whispered Sam, who was of course the first of the party. " Show a light for just vun second, Sir."

Mr. Pickwick did as he was desired, and Sam seeing a man's head peeping out very cautiously, within half a yard of his own, gave it a gentle tap with his clenched fist, which knocked it with a hollow sound against the gate. Having performed this feat with great suddenness and dexterity, Mr. Weller caught Mr. Pickwick up on his back, and followed Mr. Winkle down the lane at a pace which, considering the burden he carried, was perfectly astonishing.

" Have you got your vind back agin. Sir?" enquired Sam when they had reached the end.

" Quite — quite now," replied Mr. Pickwick.

<' Then come along, Sir," said Sam, setting his master on his feet again. " Come betveen us. Sir. Not half a mile to run. Think you're vinnin a cup. Sir. Now for it."

Thus encouraged, Mr. Pickwick made the very best use of his legs, and it may be confidently stated that a pair of black gaiters never got over the ground in better style than did those of Mr. Pickwick on this memorable occasion.

The coach was waiting, the horses were fresh, the roads were good, and the driver was willing. The whole party arrived in safety at the Bush before Mr. Pickwick had recovered his breath.

<' In vith you at once Sir," said Sam, as he helped his master out. « Don't stop a second in the street, arter tjaat 'ere exercise. Beg your pardon. Sir," continued Sam, touching his hat as Mr. Winkle descended, " Hope there warn't a priory 'tachment, Sir."

Mr. Winkle grasped his humble friend by the hand, and whispered in his ear, "It's all right, Sam; quite right "—upon which Mr. Weller struck three distinct blows upon his nose in token of intelligence; smiled, winked, and proceeded to put the steps up with a countenance

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