Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/554

460 460 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF

" No ; I will not go on, Sir," said Mr. Pell, in a low and serious tone. " You have reminded me. Sir, that this conversation was private — private and confidential, gentlemen. Gentlemen, I am a professional man. It may be that I am a good deal looked up to, in my profession — it may be that I am not. Most people know. I say nothing. Observa- tions have already been made, in this room, injurious to the reputation of my noble friend. You will excuse me, gentlemen ; I was imprudent. I feel that I have no right to mention this matter without his concur- rence. Thank you, Sir; thank you." Thus delivering himself, Mr. Pell thrust his hands into his pockets, and, frowning grimly around, rattled three-halfpence with terrible determination.

This virtuous resolution had scarcely been formed, when the boy and the blue bag, who were inseparable companions, rushed violently into the room, and said (at least the boy did; for the blue bag took no part in the announcement) that the case was coming on directly. The in- telligence was no sooner received than the whole party hurried across the street, and began to fight their way into Court — a preparatory cere- mony, which has been calculated to occupy, in ordinary cases, from twenty-five minutes to thirty.

Mr. Weller being stout, cast himself at once into the crowd, with the desperate hope of ultimately turning up in some place which would suit him. His success was not quite equal to his expectations, for having neglected to take his hat off, it was knocked over his eyes by some unseen person, upon whose toes he had alighted with considerable force. Apparently this individual regretted his impetuosity immediately afterwards, for, muttering an indistinct exclamation of surprise, he dragged the old man out into the hall, and, after a violent struggle, released his head and face.

behold his rescuer. Sam nodded.
 * ' Samivel !" exclaimed Mr. Weller, when he was thus enabled tOj

" You're a dutiful and affectionate little boy, you are, ain't you?" said Mr. Weller, " to come a bonnetin' your father in his old age?"

" How should I know who you wos?" responded the son. "Doi you s'pose I wos to tell you by the weight o' your foot?"

" Veil, that's wery true, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller, mollified ati once ; "but wot are you a doin' on here ? Your gov'nor can't do no good here, Sammy. They von't pass that werdict ; they von't pass it, Sammy." And Mr. Weller shook his head with legal solemnity.

" Wot a perwerse old file it is !" exclaimed Sam, " alvays a goin' onj about werdicts and alley bis, and that. Who said anything about thej werdict ? "

Mr. Weller made no reply, but once more shook his head mostl learnedly.

" Leave off rattlin' that 'ere nob o' yourn, if you don't want it toj come off the springs altogether," said Sam impatiently, " and behave reasonable. I vent all the vay down to the Markis o' Granby arter yoi last night."