letter from the bundle, the little lawyer laid it at Mr. Pickwick's
elbow, and took snuff for two consecutive minutes, without winking.
'Is this all you have to say to me?' inquired Mr. Pickwick mildly.
'Not quite,' replied Perker. 'I cannot undertake to say, at this moment,
whether the wording of the cognovit, the nature of the ostensible
consideration, and the proof we can get together about the whole conduct
of the suit, will be sufficient to justify an indictment for conspiracy.
I fear not, my dear Sir; they are too clever for that, I doubt. I do
mean to say, however, that the whole facts, taken together, will be
sufficient to justify you, in the minds of all reasonable men. And now,
my dear Sir, I put it to you. This one hundred and fifty pounds, or
whatever it may be--take it in round numbers--is nothing to you. A jury
had decided against you; well, their verdict is wrong, but still they
decided as they thought right, and it IS against you. You have now
an opportunity, on easy terms, of placing yourself in a much higher
position than you ever could, by remaining here; which would only be
imputed, by people who didn't know you, to sheer dogged, wrongheaded,
brutal obstinacy; nothing else, my dear Sir, believe me. Can you
hesitate to avail yourself of it, when it restores you to your friends,
your old pursuits, your health and amusements; when it liberates your
faithful and attached servant, whom you otherwise doom to imprisonment
for the whole of your life; and above all, when it enables you to take
the very magnanimous revenge--which I know, my dear sir, is one after
your own heart--of releasing this woman from a scene of misery and
debauchery, to which no man should ever be consigned, if I had my will,
but the infliction of which on any woman, is even more frightful and
barbarous. Now I ask you, my dear sir, not only as your legal adviser,
but as your very true friend, will you let slip the occasion of
attaining all these objects, and doing all this good, for the paltry
consideration of a few pounds finding their way into the pockets of a
couple of rascals, to whom it makes no manner of difference, except that
the more they gain, the more they'll seek, and so the sooner be led
into some piece of knavery that must end in a crash? I have put these
considerations to you, my dear Sir, very feebly and imperfectly, but
I ask you to think of them. Turn them over in your mind as long as you
please. I wait here most patiently for your answer.'
Before Mr. Pickwick could reply, before Mr. Perker had taken one
twentieth part of the snuff with which so unusually long an address
imperatively required to be followed up, there was a low murmuring of
voices outside, and then a hesitating knock at the door.
'Dear, dear,' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who had been evidently roused by
his friend's appeal; 'what an annoyance that door is! Who is that?'
'Me, Sir,' replied Sam Weller, putting in his head.
'I can't speak to you just now, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick. 'I am engaged
at this moment, Sam.'
'Beg your pardon, Sir,' rejoined Mr. Weller. 'But here's a lady here,
Sir, as says she's somethin' wery partickler to disclose.'
'I can't see any lady,' replied Mr. Pickwick, whose mind was filled with
visions of Mrs. Bardell.
'I wouldn't make too sure o' that, Sir,' urged Mr. Weller, shaking his
head. 'If you know'd who was near, sir, I rayther think you'd change
your note; as the hawk remarked to himself vith a cheerful laugh, ven he
heerd the robin-redbreast a-singin' round the corner.'
'Who is it?' inquired Mr. Pickwick.
'Will you see her, Sir?' asked Mr. Weller, holding the door in his hand
as if he had some curious live animal on the other side.
'I suppose I must,' said Mr. Pickwick, looking at Perker.
'Well then, all in to begin!' cried Sam. 'Sound the gong, draw up the
curtain, and enter the two conspiraytors.'
As Sam Weller spoke, he threw the door open, and there rushed
tumultuously into the room, Mr. Nathaniel Winkle, leading after him
by the hand, the identical young lady who at Dingley Dell had worn the
boots with the fur round the tops, and who, now a very pleasing compound
of blushes and confusion, and lilac silk, and a smart bonnet, and a rich
lace veil, looked prettier than ever.
'Miss Arabella Allen!' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, rising from his chair.
'No,' replied Mr. Winkle, dropping on his knees. 'Mrs. Winkle. Pardon,
my dear friend, pardon!'
Mr. Pickwick could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses, and
perhaps would not have done so, but for the corroborative testimony
afforded by the smiling countenance of Perker, and the bodily presence,
in the background, of Sam and the pretty housemaid; who appeared to
contemplate the proceedings with the liveliest satisfaction.
'Oh, Mr. Pickwick!' said Arabella, in a low voice, as if alarmed at the
silence. 'Can you forgive my imprudence?'
Mr. Pickwick returned no verbal response to this appeal; but he took off
his spectacles in great haste, and seizing both the young lady's hands
in his, kissed her a great number of times--perhaps a greater number
than was absolutely necessary--and then, still retaining one of her
hands, told Mr. Winkle he was an audacious young dog, and bade him get
up. This, Mr. Winkle, who had been for some seconds scratching his
nose with the brim of his hat, in a penitent manner, did; whereupon Mr.
Pickwick slapped him on the back several times, and then shook hands
heartily with Perker, who, not to be behind-hand in the compliments of
the occasion, saluted both the bride and the pretty housemaid with right
good-will, and, having wrung Mr. Winkle's hand most cordially, wound up
his demonstrations of joy by taking snuff enough to set any half-dozen
men with ordinarily-constructed noses, a-sneezing for life. 'Why, my
dear girl,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'how has all this come about? Come! Sit
down, and let me hear it all. How well she looks, doesn't she, Perker?'
added Mr. Pickwick, surveying Arabella's face with a look of as much
pride and exultation, as if she had been his daughter.
'Delightful, my dear Sir,' replied the little man. 'If I were not a
married man myself, I should be disposed to envy you, you dog.' Thus
expressing himself, the little lawyer gave Mr. Winkle a poke in the
chest, which that gentleman reciprocated; after which they both laughed
very loudly, but not so loudly as Mr. Samuel Weller, who had just
relieved his feelings by kissing the pretty housemaid under cover of the
cupboard door.
'I can never be grateful enough to you, Sam, I am sure,' said Arabella,
with the sweetest smile imaginable. 'I shall not forget your exertions
in the garden at Clifton.'
'Don't say nothin' wotever about it, ma'am,' replied Sam. 'I only
assisted natur, ma'am; as the doctor said to the boy's mother, after
he'd bled him to death.'
'Mary, my dear, sit down,' said Mr. Pickwick, cutting short these
compliments. 'Now then; how long have you been married, eh?'
Arabella looked bashfully at her lord and master, who replied, 'Only
three days.'
'Only three days, eh?' said Mr. Pickwick. 'Why, what have you been doing
these three months?'
'Ah, to be sure!' interposed Perker; 'come, account for this idleness.
You see Mr. Pickwick's only astonishment is, that it wasn't all over,
months ago.'
'Why the fact is,' replied Mr. Winkle, looking at his blushing young
wife, 'that I could not persuade Bella to run away, for a long time. And
when I had persuaded her, it was a long time more before we could find
an opportunity. Mary had to give a month's warning, too, before she
could leave her place next door, and we couldn't possibly have done it
without her assistance.' 'Upon my word,' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who by
this time had resumed his spectacles, and was looking from Arabella to
Winkle, and from Winkle to Arabella, with as much delight depicted in
his countenance as warmheartedness and kindly feeling can communicate to
the human face--'upon my word! you seem to have been very systematic
in your proceedings. And is your brother acquainted with all this, my
dear?'
'Oh, no, no,' replied Arabella, changing colour. 'Dear Mr. Pickwick, he
must only know it from you--from your lips alone. He is so violent, so
prejudiced, and has been so--so anxious in behalf of his friend, Mr.
Sawyer,' added Arabella, looking down, 'that I fear the consequences
dreadfully.'
'Ah, to be sure,' said Perker gravely. 'You must take this matter in
hand for them, my dear sir. These young men will respect you, when they
would listen to nobody else. You must prevent mischief, my dear Sir. Hot
blood, hot blood.' And the little man took a warning pinch, and shook
his head doubtfully.
'You forget, my love,' said Mr. Pickwick gently, 'you forget that I am a
prisoner.'
'No, indeed I do not, my dear Sir,' replied Arabella. 'I never have
forgotten it. I have never ceased to think how great your sufferings
must have been in this shocking place. But I hoped that what no
consideration for yourself would induce you to do, a regard to our
happiness might. If my brother hears of this, first, from you, I feel
certain we shall be reconciled. He is my only relation in the world, Mr.
Pickwick, and unless you plead for me, I fear I have lost even him. I
have done wrong, very, very wrong, I know.'Here poor Arabella hid her
face in her handkerchief, and wept bitterly.
Mr. Pickwick's nature was a good deal worked upon, by these same tears;
but when Mrs. Winkle, drying her eyes, took to coaxing and entreating
in the sweetest tones of a very sweet voice, he became particularly
restless, and evidently undecided how to act, as was evinced by sundry
nervous rubbings of his spectacle-glasses, nose, tights, head, and
gaiters.
Taking advantage of these symptoms of indecision, Mr. Perker (to whom,
it appeared, the young couple had driven straight that morning) urged
with legal point and shrewdness that Mr. Winkle, senior, was still
unacquainted with the important rise in life's flight of steps which
his son had taken; that the future expectations of the said son depended
entirely upon the said Winkle, senior, continuing to regard him with
undiminished feelings of affection and attachment, which it was very
unlikely he would, if this great event were long kept a secret from him;
that Mr. Pickwick, repairing to Bristol to seek Mr. Allen, might, with
equal reason, repair to Birmingham to seek Mr. Winkle, senior; lastly,
that Mr. Winkle, senior, had good right and title to consider Mr.
Pickwick as in some degree the guardian and adviser of his son, and
that it consequently behoved that gentleman, and was indeed due to
his personal character, to acquaint the aforesaid Winkle, senior,
personally, and by word of mouth, with the whole circumstances of the
case, and with the share he had taken in the transaction.
Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass arrived, most opportunely, in this stage of
the pleadings, and as it was necessary to explain to them all that had
occurred, together with the various reasons pro and con, the whole of
the arguments were gone over again, after which everybody urged every
argument in his own way, and at his own length. And, at last, Mr.
Pickwick, fairly argued and remonstrated out of all his resolutions,
and being in imminent danger of being argued and remonstrated out of
his wits, caught Arabella in his arms, and declaring that she was a very
amiable creature, and that he didn't know how it was, but he had always
been very fond of her from the first, said he could never find it in his
heart to stand in the way of young people's happiness, and they might do
with him as they pleased.
Mr. Weller's first act, on hearing this concession, was to despatch Job
Trotter to the illustrious Mr. Pell, with an authority to deliver to
the bearer the formal discharge which his prudent parent had had the
foresight to leave in the hands of that learned gentleman, in case it
should be, at any time, required on an emergency; his next proceeding
was, to invest his whole stock of ready-money in the purchase of
five-and-twenty gallons of mild porter, which he himself dispensed on
the racket-ground to everybody who would partake of it; this done, he
hurra'd in divers parts of the building until he lost his voice,
and then quietly relapsed into his usual collected and philosophical
condition.
At three o'clock that afternoon, Mr. Pickwick took a last look at his
little room, and made his way, as well as he could, through the throng
of debtors who pressed eagerly forward to shake him by the hand, until
he reached the lodge steps. He turned here, to look about him, and his
eye lightened as he did so. In all the crowd of wan, emaciated faces, he
saw not one which was not happier for his sympathy and charity.
'Perker,' said Mr. Pickwick, beckoning one young man towards him, 'this
is Mr. Jingle, whom I spoke to you about.'
'Very good, my dear Sir,' replied Perker, looking hard at Jingle. 'You
will see me again, young man, to-morrow. I hope you may live to remember
and feel deeply, what I shall have to communicate, Sir.'
Jingle bowed respectfully, trembled very much as he took Mr. Pickwick's
proffered hand, and withdrew.
'Job you know, I think?' said Mr. Pickwick, presenting that gentleman.
'I know the rascal,' replied Perker good-humouredly. 'See after your
friend, and be in the way to-morrow at one. Do you hear? Now, is there
anything more?'
