up directly, for his wife was running away with another gentleman.
Upon this, Mr. Dowler bounced off the bed as abruptly as an India-rubber
ball, and rushing into the front room, arrived at one window just as Mr.
Pickwick threw up the other, when the first object that met the gaze of
both, was Mr. Winkle bolting into the sedan-chair.
'Watchman,' shouted Dowler furiously, 'stop him--hold him--keep him
tight--shut him in, till I come down. I'll cut his throat--give me a
knife--from ear to ear, Mrs. Craddock--I will!' And breaking from the
shrieking landlady, and from Mr. Pickwick, the indignant husband seized
a small supper-knife, and tore into the street. But Mr. Winkle didn't
wait for him. He no sooner heard the horrible threat of the valorous
Dowler, than he bounced out of the sedan, quite as quickly as he had
bounced in, and throwing off his slippers into the road, took to his
heels and tore round the crescent, hotly pursued by Dowler and the
watchman. He kept ahead; the door was open as he came round the second
time; he rushed in, slammed it in Dowler's face, mounted to his bedroom,
locked the door, piled a wash-hand-stand, chest of drawers, and a table
against it, and packed up a few necessaries ready for flight with the
first ray of morning.
Dowler came up to the outside of the door; avowed, through the keyhole,
his steadfast determination of cutting Mr. Winkle's throat next day;
and, after a great confusion of voices in the drawing-room, amidst which
that of Mr. Pickwick was distinctly heard endeavouring to make peace,
the inmates dispersed to their several bed-chambers, and all was quiet
once more.
It is not unlikely that the inquiry may be made, where Mr. Weller was,
all this time? We will state where he was, in the next chapter.
CHAPTER XXXVII. HONOURABLY ACCOUNTS FOR Mr. WELLER'S ABSENCE, BY
DESCRIBING A SOIREE TO WHICH HE WAS INVITED AND WENT; ALSO RELATES HOW
HE WAS ENTRUSTED BY Mr. PICKWICK WITH A PRIVATE MISSION OF DELICACY AND
IMPORTANCE
'Mr. Weller,' said Mrs. Craddock, upon the morning of this very eventful
day, 'here's a letter for you.'
'Wery odd that,' said Sam; 'I'm afeerd there must be somethin' the
matter, for I don't recollect any gen'l'm'n in my circle of acquaintance
as is capable o' writin' one.'
'Perhaps something uncommon has taken place,' observed Mrs. Craddock.
'It must be somethin' wery uncommon indeed, as could perduce a letter
out o' any friend o' mine,' replied Sam, shaking his head dubiously;
'nothin' less than a nat'ral conwulsion, as the young gen'l'm'n observed
ven he wos took with fits. It can't be from the gov'ner,' said Sam,
looking at the direction. 'He always prints, I know, 'cos he learnt
writin' from the large bills in the booking-offices. It's a wery strange
thing now, where this here letter can ha' come from.'
As Sam said this, he did what a great many people do when they are
uncertain about the writer of a note--looked at the seal, and then at
the front, and then at the back, and then at the sides, and then at the
superscription; and, as a last resource, thought perhaps he might as
well look at the inside, and try to find out from that.
'It's wrote on gilt-edged paper,' said Sam, as he unfolded it, 'and
sealed in bronze vax vith the top of a door key. Now for it.' And, with
a very grave face, Mr. Weller slowly read as follows--
'A select company of the Bath footmen presents their compliments to
Mr. Weller, and requests the pleasure of his company this evening, to
a friendly swarry, consisting of a boiled leg of mutton with the
usual trimmings. The swarry to be on table at half-past nine o'clock
punctually.'
This was inclosed in another note, which ran thus--
'Mr. John Smauker, the gentleman who had the pleasure of meeting Mr.
Weller at the house of their mutual acquaintance, Mr. Bantam, a few days
since, begs to inclose Mr. Weller the herewith invitation. If Mr. Weller
will call on Mr. John Smauker at nine o'clock, Mr. John Smauker will
have the pleasure of introducing Mr. Weller.
(Signed) 'JOHN SMAUKER.'
The envelope was directed to blank Weller, Esq., at Mr. Pickwick's; and
in a parenthesis, in the left hand corner, were the words 'airy bell,'
as an instruction to the bearer.
'Vell,' said Sam, 'this is comin' it rayther powerful, this is. I never
heerd a biled leg o' mutton called a swarry afore. I wonder wot they'd
call a roast one.'
However, without waiting to debate the point, Sam at once betook himself
into the presence of Mr. Pickwick, and requested leave of absence for
that evening, which was readily granted. With this permission and the
street-door key, Sam Weller issued forth a little before the appointed
time, and strolled leisurely towards Queen Square, which he no sooner
gained than he had the satisfaction of beholding Mr. John Smauker
leaning his powdered head against a lamp-post at a short distance off,
smoking a cigar through an amber tube.
'How do you do, Mr. Weller?' said Mr. John Smauker, raising his
hat gracefully with one hand, while he gently waved the other in a
condescending manner. 'How do you do, Sir?'
'Why, reasonably conwalessent,' replied Sam. 'How do YOU find yourself,
my dear feller?'
'Only so so,' said Mr. John Smauker.
'Ah, you've been a-workin' too hard,' observed Sam. 'I was fearful
you would; it won't do, you know; you must not give way to that 'ere
uncompromisin' spirit o' yourn.'
'It's not so much that, Mr. Weller,' replied Mr. John Smauker, 'as bad
wine; I'm afraid I've been dissipating.'
'Oh! that's it, is it?' said Sam; 'that's a wery bad complaint, that.'
'And yet the temptation, you see, Mr. Weller,' observed Mr. John
Smauker.
'Ah, to be sure,' said Sam.
'Plunged into the very vortex of society, you know, Mr. Weller,' said
Mr. John Smauker, with a sigh.
'Dreadful, indeed!' rejoined Sam.
'But it's always the way,' said Mr. John Smauker; 'if your destiny
leads you into public life, and public station, you must expect to be
subjected to temptations which other people is free from, Mr. Weller.'
'Precisely what my uncle said, ven he vent into the public line,'
remarked Sam, 'and wery right the old gen'l'm'n wos, for he drank
hisself to death in somethin' less than a quarter.' Mr. John Smauker
looked deeply indignant at any parallel being drawn between himself and
the deceased gentleman in question; but, as Sam's face was in the most
immovable state of calmness, he thought better of it, and looked affable
again. 'Perhaps we had better be walking,' said Mr. Smauker, consulting
a copper timepiece which dwelt at the bottom of a deep watch-pocket, and
was raised to the surface by means of a black string, with a copper key
at the other end.
'P'raps we had,' replied Sam, 'or they'll overdo the swarry, and that'll
spile it.'
'Have you drank the waters, Mr. Weller?' inquired his companion, as they
walked towards High Street.
'Once,' replied Sam.
'What did you think of 'em, Sir?'
'I thought they was particklery unpleasant,' replied Sam.
'Ah,' said Mr. John Smauker, 'you disliked the killibeate taste,
perhaps?'
'I don't know much about that 'ere,' said Sam. 'I thought they'd a wery
strong flavour o' warm flat irons.'
'That IS the killibeate, Mr. Weller,' observed Mr. John Smauker
contemptuously.
'Well, if it is, it's a wery inexpressive word, that's all,' said Sam.
'It may be, but I ain't much in the chimical line myself, so I can't
say.' And here, to the great horror of Mr. John Smauker, Sam Weller
began to whistle.
'I beg your pardon, Mr. Weller,' said Mr. John Smauker, agonised at the
exceeding ungenteel sound, 'will you take my arm?'
'Thank'ee, you're wery good, but I won't deprive you of it,' replied
Sam. 'I've rayther a way o' putting my hands in my pockets, if it's all
the same to you.' As Sam said this, he suited the action to the word,
and whistled far louder than before.
'This way,' said his new friend, apparently much relieved as they turned
down a by-street; 'we shall soon be there.'
'Shall we?' said Sam, quite unmoved by the announcement of his close
vicinity to the select footmen of Bath.
'Yes,' said Mr. John Smauker. 'Don't be alarmed, Mr. Weller.'
'Oh, no,' said Sam.
'You'll see some very handsome uniforms, Mr. Weller,' continued Mr. John
Smauker; 'and perhaps you'll find some of the gentlemen rather high at
first, you know, but they'll soon come round.'
'That's wery kind on 'em,' replied Sam. 'And you know,' resumed Mr.
John Smauker, with an air of sublime protection--'you know, as you're a
stranger, perhaps, they'll be rather hard upon you at first.'
'They won't be wery cruel, though, will they?' inquired Sam.
'No, no,' replied Mr. John Smauker, pulling forth the fox's head, and
taking a gentlemanly pinch. 'There are some funny dogs among us, and
they will have their joke, you know; but you mustn't mind 'em, you
mustn't mind 'em.'
'I'll try and bear up agin such a reg'lar knock down o' talent,' replied
Sam.
'That's right,' said Mr. John Smauker, putting forth his fox's head, and
elevating his own; 'I'll stand by you.'
By this time they had reached a small greengrocer's shop, which Mr. John
Smauker entered, followed by Sam, who, the moment he got behind him,
relapsed into a series of the very broadest and most unmitigated grins,
and manifested other demonstrations of being in a highly enviable state
of inward merriment.
Crossing the greengrocer's shop, and putting their hats on the stairs in
the little passage behind it, they walked into a small parlour; and here
the full splendour of the scene burst upon Mr. Weller's view.
A couple of tables were put together in the middle of the parlour,
covered with three or four cloths of different ages and dates of
washing, arranged to look as much like one as the circumstances of the
case would allow. Upon these were laid knives and forks for six or eight
people. Some of the knife handles were green, others red, and a few
yellow; and as all the forks were black, the combination of colours was
exceedingly striking. Plates for a corresponding number of guests were
warming behind the fender; and the guests themselves were warming before
it: the chief and most important of whom appeared to be a stoutish
gentleman in a bright crimson coat with long tails, vividly red
breeches, and a cocked hat, who was standing with his back to the fire,
and had apparently just entered, for besides retaining his cocked hat on
his head, he carried in his hand a high stick, such as gentlemen of
his profession usually elevate in a sloping position over the roofs of
carriages.
'Smauker, my lad, your fin,' said the gentleman with the cocked hat.
Mr. Smauker dovetailed the top joint of his right-hand little finger
into that of the gentleman with the cocked hat, and said he was charmed
to see him looking so well.
'Well, they tell me I am looking pretty blooming,' said the man with the
cocked hat, 'and it's a wonder, too. I've been following our old woman
about, two hours a day, for the last fortnight; and if a constant
contemplation of the manner in which she hooks-and-eyes that infernal
lavender-coloured old gown of hers behind, isn't enough to throw anybody
into a low state of despondency for life, stop my quarter's salary.'
At this, the assembled selections laughed very heartily; and one
gentleman in a yellow waistcoat, with a coach-trimming border, whispered
a neighbour in green-foil smalls, that Tuckle was in spirits to-night.
'By the bye,' said Mr. Tuckle, 'Smauker, my boy, you--' The remainder of
the sentence was forwarded into Mr. John Smauker's ear, by whisper.
'Oh, dear me, I quite forgot,' said Mr. John Smauker. 'Gentlemen, my
friend Mr. Weller.'
'Sorry to keep the fire off you, Weller,' said Mr. Tuckle, with a
familiar nod. 'Hope you're not cold, Weller.'
'Not by no means, Blazes,' replied Sam. 'It 'ud be a wery chilly subject
as felt cold wen you stood opposite. You'd save coals if they put you
behind the fender in the waitin'-room at a public office, you would.'
As this retort appeared to convey rather a personal allusion to Mr.
Tuckle's crimson livery, that gentleman looked majestic for a few
seconds, but gradually edging away from the fire, broke into a forced
smile, and said it wasn't bad.
'Wery much obliged for your good opinion, sir,' replied Sam. 'We shall
get on by degrees, I des-say. We'll try a better one by and bye.'
At this point the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a
gentleman in orange-coloured plush, accompanied by another selection
in purple cloth, with a great extent of stocking. The new-comers having
been welcomed by the old ones, Mr. Tuckle put the question that supper
be ordered in, which was carried unanimously.
The greengrocer and his wife then arranged upon the table a boiled leg
of mutton, hot, with caper sauce, turnips, and potatoes. Mr. Tuckle
