by the witnesses?' 'Certainly not,' replied Sam; 'I was in the passage
till they called me up, and then the old lady was not there.'
'Now, attend, Mr. Weller,' said Serjeant Buzfuz, dipping a large pen
into the inkstand before him, for the purpose of frightening Sam with
a show of taking down his answer. 'You were in the passage, and yet saw
nothing of what was going forward. Have you a pair of eyes, Mr. Weller?'
'Yes, I have a pair of eyes,' replied Sam, 'and that's just it. If they
wos a pair o' patent double million magnifyin' gas microscopes of hextra
power, p'raps I might be able to see through a flight o' stairs and a
deal door; but bein' only eyes, you see, my wision 's limited.'
At this answer, which was delivered without the slightest appearance
of irritation, and with the most complete simplicity and equanimity of
manner, the spectators tittered, the little judge smiled, and Serjeant
Buzfuz looked particularly foolish. After a short consultation with
Dodson & Fogg, the learned Serjeant again turned towards Sam, and said,
with a painful effort to conceal his vexation, 'Now, Mr. Weller, I'll
ask you a question on another point, if you please.'
'If you please, Sir,' rejoined Sam, with the utmost good-humour.
'Do you remember going up to Mrs. Bardell's house, one night in November
last?' 'Oh, yes, wery well.'
'Oh, you do remember that, Mr. Weller,' said Serjeant Buzfuz, recovering
his spirits; 'I thought we should get at something at last.'
'I rayther thought that, too, sir,' replied Sam; and at this the
spectators tittered again.
'Well; I suppose you went up to have a little talk about this trial--eh,
Mr. Weller?' said Serjeant Buzfuz, looking knowingly at the jury.
'I went up to pay the rent; but we did get a-talkin' about the trial,'
replied Sam.
'Oh, you did get a-talking about the trial,' said Serjeant Buzfuz,
brightening up with the anticipation of some important discovery. 'Now,
what passed about the trial; will you have the goodness to tell us, Mr.
Weller'?'
'Vith all the pleasure in life, sir,' replied Sam. 'Arter a few
unimportant obserwations from the two wirtuous females as has been
examined here to-day, the ladies gets into a very great state o'
admiration at the honourable conduct of Mr. Dodson and Fogg--them two
gen'l'men as is settin' near you now.' This, of course, drew general
attention to Dodson & Fogg, who looked as virtuous as possible.
'The attorneys for the plaintiff,' said Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz. 'Well! They
spoke in high praise of the honourable conduct of Messrs. Dodson and
Fogg, the attorneys for the plaintiff, did they?'
'Yes,' said Sam, 'they said what a wery gen'rous thing it was o' them to
have taken up the case on spec, and to charge nothing at all for costs,
unless they got 'em out of Mr. Pickwick.'
At this very unexpected reply, the spectators tittered again, and Dodson
& Fogg, turning very red, leaned over to Serjeant Buzfuz, and in a
hurried manner whispered something in his ear.
'You are quite right,' said Serjeant Buzfuz aloud, with affected
composure. 'It's perfectly useless, my Lord, attempting to get at any
evidence through the impenetrable stupidity of this witness. I will not
trouble the court by asking him any more questions. Stand down, sir.'
'Would any other gen'l'man like to ask me anythin'?' inquired Sam,
taking up his hat, and looking round most deliberately.
'Not I, Mr. Weller, thank you,' said Serjeant Snubbin, laughing.
'You may go down, sir,' said Serjeant Buzfuz, waving his hand
impatiently. Sam went down accordingly, after doing Messrs. Dodson &
Fogg's case as much harm as he conveniently could, and saying just as
little respecting Mr. Pickwick as might be, which was precisely the
object he had had in view all along.
'I have no objection to admit, my Lord,' said Serjeant Snubbin, 'if
it will save the examination of another witness, that Mr. Pickwick has
retired from business, and is a gentleman of considerable independent
property.'
'Very well,' said Serjeant Buzfuz, putting in the two letters to be
read, 'then that's my case, my Lord.'
Serjeant Snubbin then addressed the jury on behalf of the defendant;
and a very long and a very emphatic address he delivered, in which he
bestowed the highest possible eulogiums on the conduct and character of
Mr. Pickwick; but inasmuch as our readers are far better able to form a
correct estimate of that gentleman's merits and deserts, than Serjeant
Snubbin could possibly be, we do not feel called upon to enter at any
length into the learned gentleman's observations. He attempted to
show that the letters which had been exhibited, merely related to Mr.
Pickwick's dinner, or to the preparations for receiving him in his
apartments on his return from some country excursion. It is sufficient
to add in general terms, that he did the best he could for Mr. Pickwick;
and the best, as everybody knows, on the infallible authority of the old
adage, could do no more.
Mr. Justice Stareleigh summed up, in the old-established and most
approved form. He read as much of his notes to the jury as he could
decipher on so short a notice, and made running-comments on the evidence
as he went along. If Mrs. Bardell were right, it was perfectly clear
that Mr. Pickwick was wrong, and if they thought the evidence of Mrs.
Cluppins worthy of credence they would believe it, and, if they didn't,
why, they wouldn't. If they were satisfied that a breach of promise of
marriage had been committed they would find for the plaintiff with such
damages as they thought proper; and if, on the other hand, it appeared
to them that no promise of marriage had ever been given, they would find
for the defendant with no damages at all. The jury then retired to
their private room to talk the matter over, and the judge retired to
HIS private room, to refresh himself with a mutton chop and a glass of
sherry. An anxious quarter of a hour elapsed; the jury came back; the
judge was fetched in. Mr. Pickwick put on his spectacles, and gazed at
the foreman with an agitated countenance and a quickly-beating heart.
'Gentlemen,' said the individual in black, 'are you all agreed upon your
verdict?'
'We are,' replied the foreman.
'Do you find for the plaintiff, gentlemen, or for the defendant?' 'For
the plaintiff.'
'With what damages, gentlemen?'
'Seven hundred and fifty pounds.'
Mr. Pickwick took off his spectacles, carefully wiped the glasses,
folded them into their case, and put them in his pocket; then, having
drawn on his gloves with great nicety, and stared at the foreman all
the while, he mechanically followed Mr. Perker and the blue bag out of
court.
They stopped in a side room while Perker paid the court fees; and
here, Mr. Pickwick was joined by his friends. Here, too, he encountered
Messrs. Dodson & Fogg, rubbing their hands with every token of outward
satisfaction.
'Well, gentlemen,' said Mr. Pickwick.
'Well, Sir,' said Dodson, for self and partner.
'You imagine you'll get your costs, don't you, gentlemen?' said Mr.
Pickwick.
Fogg said they thought it rather probable. Dodson smiled, and said
they'd try.
'You may try, and try, and try again, Messrs. Dodson and Fogg,' said
Mr. Pickwick vehemently,'but not one farthing of costs or damages do
you ever get from me, if I spend the rest of my existence in a debtor's
prison.'
'Ha! ha!' laughed Dodson. 'You'll think better of that, before next
term, Mr. Pickwick.'
'He, he, he! We'll soon see about that, Mr. Pickwick,' grinned Fogg.
Speechless with indignation, Mr. Pickwick allowed himself to be led
by his solicitor and friends to the door, and there assisted into
a hackney-coach, which had been fetched for the purpose, by the
ever-watchful Sam Weller.
Sam had put up the steps, and was preparing to jump upon the box, when
he felt himself gently touched on the shoulder; and, looking round, his
father stood before him. The old gentleman's countenance wore a mournful
expression, as he shook his head gravely, and said, in warning accents--
'I know'd what 'ud come o' this here mode o' doin' bisness. Oh, Sammy,
Sammy, vy worn't there a alleybi!'
CHAPTER XXXV. IN WHICH Mr. PICKWICK THINKS HE HAD BETTER GO TO BATH; AND
GOES ACCORDINGLY
'But surely, my dear sir,' said little Perker, as he stood in Mr.
Pickwick's apartment on the morning after the trial, 'surely you don't
really mean--really and seriously now, and irritation apart--that you
won't pay these costs and damages?'
'Not one halfpenny,' said Mr. Pickwick firmly; 'not one halfpenny.'
'Hooroar for the principle, as the money-lender said ven he vouldn't
renew the bill,' observed Mr. Weller, who was clearing away the
breakfast-things.
'Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'have the goodness to step downstairs.'
'Cert'nly, sir,' replied Mr. Weller; and acting on Mr. Pickwick's gentle
hint, Sam retired.
'No, Perker,' said Mr. Pickwick, with great seriousness of manner, 'my
friends here have endeavoured to dissuade me from this determination,
but without avail. I shall employ myself as usual, until the opposite
party have the power of issuing a legal process of execution against me;
and if they are vile enough to avail themselves of it, and to arrest my
person, I shall yield myself up with perfect cheerfulness and content of
heart. When can they do this?'
'They can issue execution, my dear Sir, for the amount of the damages
and taxed costs, next term,' replied Perker, 'just two months hence, my
dear sir.'
'Very good,' said Mr. Pickwick. 'Until that time, my dear fellow, let
me hear no more of the matter. And now,' continued Mr. Pickwick, looking
round on his friends with a good-humoured smile, and a sparkle in the
eye which no spectacles could dim or conceal, 'the only question is,
Where shall we go next?'
Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass were too much affected by their friend's
heroism to offer any reply. Mr. Winkle had not yet sufficiently
recovered the recollection of his evidence at the trial, to make any
observation on any subject, so Mr. Pickwick paused in vain.
'Well,' said that gentleman, 'if you leave me to suggest our
destination, I say Bath. I think none of us have ever been there.'
Nobody had; and as the proposition was warmly seconded by Perker, who
considered it extremely probable that if Mr. Pickwick saw a little
change and gaiety he would be inclined to think better of his
determination, and worse of a debtor's prison, it was carried
unanimously; and Sam was at once despatched to the White Horse Cellar,
to take five places by the half-past seven o'clock coach, next morning.
There were just two places to be had inside, and just three to be had
out; so Sam Weller booked for them all, and having exchanged a few
compliments with the booking-office clerk on the subject of a pewter
half-crown which was tendered him as a portion of his 'change,' walked
back to the George and Vulture, where he was pretty busily employed
until bed-time in reducing clothes and linen into the smallest possible
compass, and exerting his mechanical genius in constructing a variety of
ingenious devices for keeping the lids on boxes which had neither locks
nor hinges.
The next was a very unpropitious morning for a journey--muggy, damp,
and drizzly. The horses in the stages that were going out, and had come
through the city, were smoking so, that the outside passengers were
invisible. The newspaper-sellers looked moist, and smelled mouldy; the
wet ran off the hats of the orange-vendors as they thrust their heads
into the coach windows, and diluted the insides in a refreshing manner.
The Jews with the fifty-bladed penknives shut them up in despair; the
men with the pocket-books made pocket-books of them. Watch-guards and
toasting-forks were alike at a discount, and pencil-cases and sponges
were a drug in the market.
Leaving Sam Weller to rescue the luggage from the seven or eight porters
who flung themselves savagely upon it, the moment the coach stopped, and
finding that they were about twenty minutes too early, Mr. Pickwick
and his friends went for shelter into the travellers' room--the last
resource of human dejection.
The travellers' room at the White Horse Cellar is of course
uncomfortable; it would be no travellers' room if it were not. It is the
right-hand parlour, into which an aspiring kitchen fireplace appears to
have walked, accompanied by a rebellious poker, tongs, and shovel. It is
divided into boxes, for the solitary confinement of travellers, and is
furnished with a clock, a looking-glass, and a live waiter, which latter
article is kept in a small kennel for washing glasses, in a corner of
the apartment.
One of these boxes was occupied, on this particular occasion, by a
stern-eyed man of about five-and-forty, who had a bald and glossy
forehead, with a good deal of black hair at the sides and back of his
head, and large black whiskers. He was buttoned up to the chin in a
brown coat; and had a large sealskin travelling-cap, and a greatcoat and
cloak, lying on the seat beside him. He looked up from his breakfast as
Mr. Pickwick entered, with a fierce and peremptory air, which was very
dignified; and, having scrutinised that gentleman and his companions to
his entire satisfaction, hummed a tune, in a manner which seemed to say
