Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/519

431 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 481

"Now," said Perker, turnings round before he entered one of the offices, to see that his companions were close behind him. " In here, my dear Sir. Hallo, what do you want ? "

This last question was addressed to the lame man, who unobserved by Mr. Pickwick, made one of the party. In reply to it, the lame man touched his hat again with all imaginable politeness, and motioned to- wards Mr. Pickwick.

" No, no," said Perker with a smile. "We don't want you, my dear friend, we don't want you."

" 1 beg- your pardon. Sir," said the lame man. " The gentleman took my card. I hope you will employ me. Sir. The gentleman nodded to me. I'll be judged by the gentleman himself. You nodded to me. Sir?"

" Pooh, pooh, nonsense. You didn't nod to any body, Pickwick ? A mistake, a mistake," said Perker.

" The gentleman handed me his card," replied Mr. Pickwick, pro- ducing it from his waistcoat pocket. " I accepted it as the gentleman seemed to wish it — in fact I had some curiosity to look at it when I should be at leisure. I "

The little attorney burst into a loud laugh, and returning the card to the lame man, informing him it was all a mistake, whispered to Mr. Pickwick as the man turned away in dudgeon, that he was only a bail.

" A what !" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.

" A bail," replied Perker.

" A bail ! "

" Yes, my dear Sir, half a dozen of 'em here. Bail you to any amount, and only charge half-a-crown. Curious trade isn't it ? " said Perker, regaling himself with a pinch of snuff.

" What ! am I to understand that these men earn a livelihood by waiting about here, to perjure themselves before the judges of the land, at the rate of half-a-crown a crime ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, quite aghast at the disclosure.

" Why, I don't exactly know about the perjury, my dear Sir," replied the little gentleman. " Harsh word, my dear Sir, very harsh word indeed. It's a legal fiction, my dear Sir, nothing more." Saying which, the attorney shrugged his shoulders, smiled, took a second pinch of snuif, and led the way into the office of the judge's clerk.

This was a room of specially dirty appearance, with a very low ceiling and old panneled walls; and so badly lighted, that although it was broad day outside, great tallow candles were burning on the desks. At one end, was a door leading to the judge's private apartment, round which were congregated a crowd of attorneys and managing clerks, who were called in, in the order in which their respective appointments stood upon the file. Every time this door was opened to let a party out, the next party made a violent rush to get in ; and as in addition to the numerous dialogues which passed between the gentlemen who were waiting to see the judge, a variety of rather personal squabbles ensued