Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/582

486 486 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF

" I am going for a walk round the prison, and I wish you to attend me. I see a prisoner we know coming this way, Sam," said Mr. Pick- wick, smiling.

" Vich, Sir ? " inquired Mr. Weller ; " the gen'l'm'n vith the head o' hair, or the interestin' captive in the stockin's i "

" Neither," rejoined Mr, Pickwick. " He is an older friend of yours, Sam."

" O' mine, Sir?" exclaimed Mr. Weller.

" You recollect the gentleman very well, I dare say, Sam," replied Mr. Pickwick, " or else you are more unmindful of your old acquaint- ances than I think you are. Hush ! not a word, Sam — not a syllable. Here he is."

As Mr. Pickwick spoke, Jingle walked up. He looked less miserable than before, being clad in a half-worn suit of clothes, which, with Mr. Pickwick's assistance, had been released from the pawnbroker's. He wore clean linen too, and had had his hair cut. He was very pale and thin, however ; and as he crept slowly up, leaning on a stick, it was easy to see that he had suffered severely frqm illness and want, and was still very weak. He took off his hat as Mr. Pickwick saluted him, and seemed much humbled and abashed at sight of Sam Weller.

Following close at his heels, came Mr. Job Trotter, in the catalogue of whose vices, want of faith and attachment to his companion could, at all events, find no place. He was still ragged and squalid, but his face was not quite so hollow as on his first meeting with Mr. Pickwick a few days before. As he took oflf his hat to our benevolent old friend, he murmured some broken expressions of gratitude, and muttered some- thing about having been saved from starving.

" Well, well," said Mr. Pickwick, impatiently interrupting him, " you can follow with Sam. I want to speak to you, Mr. Jingle. Can you walk without his arm } "

" Certainly, Sir — all ready — not too fast — legs shaky — head queer — round and round — earthquaky sort of feeling — very."

'* Here, give me your arm," said Mr. Pickwick.

" No, no," replied Jingle ; " won't indeed — rather not."

" Nonsense," said Mr. Pickwick ; " lean upon me, I desire. Sir."

vSeeing that he was confused and agitated, and uncertain what to do, Mr. Pickwick cut the matter short by drawing the invalided stroller's arm through his, and leading him away without saying another word about it.

During the whole of this time, the countenance of Mr. Samuel Weller had exhibited an expression of the most overwhelming and absorbing astonishment that the imagination can pourtray. After look- ing from Job to Jingle, and from Jingle to Job in profound silence, he softly ejaculated the words, "Veil, I am damn'd!" which he repeated at least a score of times, after which exertion he appeared wholly bereft of speech, and again cast his eyes, first upon the one and then upon the other, in mute perplexity and bewilderment.


 * •' Now, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, looking back.

" Pm a comin'j Sir," replied Mr. Weller, mechanically following his

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