this matter--do not give information to the local authorities--do not
obtain the assistance of several peace officers, to take either me or
Doctor Slammer, of the 97th Regiment, at present quartered in Chatham
Barracks, into custody, and thus prevent this duel!--I say, do not.'
Mr. Snodgrass seized his friend's hand warmly, as he enthusiastically
replied, 'Not for worlds!'
A thrill passed over Mr. Winkle's frame as the conviction that he had
nothing to hope from his friend's fears, and that he was destined to
become an animated target, rushed forcibly upon him.
The state of the case having been formally explained to Mr. Snodgrass,
and a case of satisfactory pistols, with the satisfactory accompaniments
of powder, ball, and caps, having been hired from a manufacturer in
Rochester, the two friends returned to their inn; Mr. Winkle to ruminate
on the approaching struggle, and Mr. Snodgrass to arrange the weapons of
war, and put them into proper order for immediate use.
it was a dull and heavy evening when they again sallied forth on their
awkward errand. Mr. Winkle was muffled up in a huge cloak to escape
observation, and Mr. Snodgrass bore under his the instruments of
destruction.
'Have you got everything?' said Mr. Winkle, in an agitated tone.
'Everything,' replied Mr. Snodgrass; 'plenty of ammunition, in case the
shots don't take effect. There's a quarter of a pound of powder in the
case, and I have got two newspapers in my pocket for the loadings.'
These were instances of friendship for which any man might reasonably
feel most grateful. The presumption is, that the gratitude of Mr. Winkle
was too powerful for utterance, as he said nothing, but continued to
walk on--rather slowly.
'We are in excellent time,' said Mr. Snodgrass, as they climbed the
fence of the first field;'the sun is just going down.' Mr. Winkle looked
up at the declining orb and painfully thought of the probability of his
'going down' himself, before long.
'There's the officer,' exclaimed Mr. Winkle, after a few minutes
walking. 'Where?' said Mr. Snodgrass.
'There--the gentleman in the blue cloak.' Mr. Snodgrass looked in the
direction indicated by the forefinger of his friend, and observed
a figure, muffled up, as he had described. The officer evinced his
consciousness of their presence by slightly beckoning with his hand; and
the two friends followed him at a little distance, as he walked away.
The evening grew more dull every moment, and a melancholy wind sounded
through the deserted fields, like a distant giant whistling for his
house-dog. The sadness of the scene imparted a sombre tinge to the
feelings of Mr. Winkle. He started as they passed the angle of the
trench--it looked like a colossal grave.
The officer turned suddenly from the path, and after climbing a paling,
and scaling a hedge, entered a secluded field. Two gentlemen were
waiting in it; one was a little, fat man, with black hair; and the
other--a portly personage in a braided surtout--was sitting with perfect
equanimity on a camp-stool.
'The other party, and a surgeon, I suppose,' said Mr. Snodgrass; 'take
a drop of brandy.' Mr. Winkle seized the wicker bottle which his friend
proffered, and took a lengthened pull at the exhilarating liquid.
'My friend, Sir, Mr. Snodgrass,' said Mr. Winkle, as the officer
approached. Doctor Slammer's friend bowed, and produced a case similar
to that which Mr. Snodgrass carried.
'We have nothing further to say, Sir, I think,' he coldly remarked, as
he opened the case; 'an apology has been resolutely declined.'
'Nothing, Sir,' said Mr. Snodgrass, who began to feel rather
uncomfortable himself.
'Will you step forward?' said the officer.
'Certainly,' replied Mr. Snodgrass. The ground was measured, and
preliminaries arranged. 'You will find these better than your own,' said
the opposite second, producing his pistols. 'You saw me load them. Do
you object to use them?'
'Certainly not,' replied Mr. Snodgrass. The offer relieved him from
considerable embarrassment, for his previous notions of loading a pistol
were rather vague and undefined.
'We may place our men, then, I think,' observed the officer, with as
much indifference as if the principals were chess-men, and the seconds
players.
'I think we may,' replied Mr. Snodgrass; who would have assented to
any proposition, because he knew nothing about the matter. The officer
crossed to Doctor Slammer, and Mr. Snodgrass went up to Mr. Winkle.
'It's all ready,' said he, offering the pistol. 'Give me your cloak.'
'You have got the packet, my dear fellow,' said poor Winkle. 'All
right,' said Mr. Snodgrass. 'Be steady, and wing him.'
It occurred to Mr. Winkle that this advice was very like that which
bystanders invariably give to the smallest boy in a street fight,
namely, 'Go in, and win'--an admirable thing to recommend, if you only
know how to do it. He took off his cloak, however, in silence--it
always took a long time to undo that cloak--and accepted the pistol. The
seconds retired, the gentleman on the camp-stool did the same, and the
belligerents approached each other.
Mr. Winkle was always remarkable for extreme humanity. It is conjectured
that his unwillingness to hurt a fellow-creature intentionally was the
cause of his shutting his eyes when he arrived at the fatal spot; and
that the circumstance of his eyes being closed, prevented his observing
the very extraordinary and unaccountable demeanour of Doctor Slammer.
That gentleman started, stared, retreated, rubbed his eyes, stared
again, and, finally, shouted, 'Stop, stop!'
'What's all this?' said Doctor Slammer, as his friend and Mr. Snodgrass
came running up; 'that's not the man.'
'Not the man!' said Doctor Slammer's second.
'Not the man!' said Mr. Snodgrass.
'Not the man!' said the gentleman with the camp-stool in his hand.
'Certainly not,' replied the little doctor. 'That's not the person who
insulted me last night.'
'Very extraordinary!' exclaimed the officer.
'Very,' said the gentleman with the camp-stool. 'The only question is,
whether the gentleman, being on the ground, must not be considered, as
a matter of form, to be the individual who insulted our friend, Doctor
Slammer, yesterday evening, whether he is really that individual
or not;' and having delivered this suggestion, with a very sage and
mysterious air, the man with the camp-stool took a large pinch of
snuff, and looked profoundly round, with the air of an authority in such
matters.
Now Mr. Winkle had opened his eyes, and his ears too, when he heard his
adversary call out for a cessation of hostilities; and perceiving by
what he had afterwards said that there was, beyond all question, some
mistake in the matter, he at once foresaw the increase of reputation he
should inevitably acquire by concealing the real motive of his coming
out; he therefore stepped boldly forward, and said--
'I am not the person. I know it.'
'Then, that,' said the man with the camp-stool, 'is an affront to Doctor
Slammer, and a sufficient reason for proceeding immediately.'
'Pray be quiet, Payne,' said the doctor's second. 'Why did you not
communicate this fact to me this morning, Sir?'
'To be sure--to be sure,' said the man with the camp-stool indignantly.
'I entreat you to be quiet, Payne,' said the other. 'May I repeat my
question, Sir?'
'Because, Sir,' replied Mr. Winkle, who had had time to deliberate
upon his answer, 'because, Sir, you described an intoxicated and
ungentlemanly person as wearing a coat which I have the honour, not only
to wear but to have invented--the proposed uniform, Sir, of the Pickwick
Club in London. The honour of that uniform I feel bound to maintain, and
I therefore, without inquiry, accepted the challenge which you offered
me.'
'My dear Sir,' said the good-humoured little doctor advancing with
extended hand, 'I honour your gallantry. Permit me to say, Sir, that I
highly admire your conduct, and extremely regret having caused you the
inconvenience of this meeting, to no purpose.'
'I beg you won't mention it, Sir,' said Mr. Winkle.
'I shall feel proud of your acquaintance, Sir,' said the little doctor.
'It will afford me the greatest pleasure to know you, sir,' replied Mr.
Winkle. Thereupon the doctor and Mr. Winkle shook hands, and then Mr.
Winkle and Lieutenant Tappleton (the doctor's second), and then Mr.
Winkle and the man with the camp-stool, and, finally, Mr. Winkle and Mr.
Snodgrass--the last-named gentleman in an excess of admiration at the
noble conduct of his heroic friend.
'I think we may adjourn,' said Lieutenant Tappleton.
'Certainly,' added the doctor.
'Unless,' interposed the man with the camp-stool, 'unless Mr. Winkle
feels himself aggrieved by the challenge; in which case, I submit, he
has a right to satisfaction.'
Mr. Winkle, with great self-denial, expressed himself quite satisfied
already. 'Or possibly,' said the man with the camp-stool, 'the
gentleman's second may feel himself affronted with some observations
which fell from me at an early period of this meeting; if so, I shall be
happy to give him satisfaction immediately.'
Mr. Snodgrass hastily professed himself very much obliged with the
handsome offer of the gentleman who had spoken last, which he was only
induced to decline by his entire contentment with the whole proceedings.
The two seconds adjusted the cases, and the whole party left the ground
in a much more lively manner than they had proceeded to it.
'Do you remain long here?' inquired Doctor Slammer of Mr. Winkle, as
they walked on most amicably together.
'I think we shall leave here the day after to-morrow,' was the reply.
'I trust I shall have the pleasure of seeing you and your friend at my
rooms, and of spending a pleasant evening with you, after this awkward
mistake,' said the little doctor; 'are you disengaged this evening?'
'We have some friends here,' replied Mr. Winkle, 'and I should not like
to leave them to-night. Perhaps you and your friend will join us at the
Bull.'
'With great pleasure,' said the little doctor; 'will ten o'clock be too
late to look in for half an hour?'
'Oh dear, no,' said Mr. Winkle. 'I shall be most happy to introduce you
to my friends, Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Tupman.'
'It will give me great pleasure, I am sure,' replied Doctor Slammer,
little suspecting who Mr. Tupman was.
'You will be sure to come?' said Mr. Snodgrass.
'Oh, certainly.'
By this time they had reached the road. Cordial farewells were
exchanged, and the party separated. Doctor Slammer and his friends
repaired to the barracks, and Mr. Winkle, accompanied by Mr. Snodgrass,
returned to their inn.
CHAPTER III. A NEW ACQUAINTANCE--THE STROLLER'S TALE--A DISAGREEABLE
INTERRUPTION, AND AN UNPLEASANT ENCOUNTER
Mr. Pickwick had felt some apprehensions in consequence of the unusual
absence of his two friends, which their mysterious behaviour during the
whole morning had by no means tended to diminish. It was, therefore,
with more than ordinary pleasure that he rose to greet them when they
again entered; and with more than ordinary interest that he inquired
what had occurred to detain them from his society. In reply to his
questions on this point, Mr. Snodgrass was about to offer an historical
account of the circumstances just now detailed, when he was suddenly
checked by observing that there were present, not only Mr. Tupman and
their stage-coach companion of the preceding day, but another stranger
of equally singular appearance. It was a careworn-looking man, whose
sallow face, and deeply-sunken eyes, were rendered still more striking
than Nature had made them, by the straight black hair which hung in
matted disorder half-way down his face. His eyes were almost unnaturally
bright and piercing; his cheek-bones were high and prominent; and his
jaws were so long and lank, that an observer would have supposed that he
was drawing the flesh of his face in, for a moment, by some contraction
of the muscles, if his half-opened mouth and immovable expression had
not announced that it was his ordinary appearance. Round his neck he
wore a green shawl, with the large ends straggling over his chest, and
making their appearance occasionally beneath the worn button-holes of
his old waistcoat. His upper garment was a long black surtout; and below
it he wore wide drab trousers, and large boots, running rapidly to seed.
It was on this uncouth-looking person that Mr. Winkle's eye rested, and
it was towards him that Mr. Pickwick extended his hand when he said, 'A
friend of our friend's here. We discovered this morning that our friend
was connected with the theatre in this place, though he is not desirous
to have it generally known, and this gentleman is a member of the same
profession. He was about to favour us with a little anecdote connected
with it, when you entered.'
'Lots of anecdote,' said the green-coated stranger of the day before,
advancing to Mr. Winkle and speaking in a low and confidential tone.
'Rum fellow--does the heavy business--no actor--strange man--all sorts
of miseries--Dismal Jemmy, we call him on the circuit.' Mr. Winkle and
Mr. Snodgrass politely welcomed the gentleman, elegantly designated as
'Dismal Jemmy'; and calling for brandy-and-water, in imitation of the
remainder of the company, seated themselves at the table. 'Now sir,'
