we've been a-speakin' on, 'ull get as much extra lead in his head as'll
rayther damage the dewelopment o' the orgins if they ever put it in
spirits artervards.'
'Oh, what can I do to prevent these dreadful quarrels!' exclaimed
Arabella.
'It's the suspicion of a priory 'tachment as is the cause of it all,'
replied Sam. 'You'd better see him, miss.'
'But how?--where?'cried Arabella. 'I dare not leave the house alone.
My brother is so unkind, so unreasonable! I know how strange my talking
thus to you may appear, Mr. Weller, but I am very, very unhappy--' and
here poor Arabella wept so bitterly that Sam grew chivalrous.
'It may seem wery strange talkin' to me about these here affairs, miss,'
said Sam, with great vehemence; 'but all I can say is, that I'm not only
ready but villin' to do anythin' as'll make matters agreeable; and if
chuckin' either o' them sawboneses out o' winder 'ull do it, I'm the
man.' As Sam Weller said this, he tucked up his wristbands, at the
imminent hazard of falling off the wall in so doing, to intimate his
readiness to set to work immediately.
Flattering as these professions of good feeling were, Arabella
resolutely declined (most unaccountably, as Sam thought) to avail
herself of them. For some time she strenuously refused to grant Mr.
Winkle the interview Sam had so pathetically requested; but at length,
when the conversation threatened to be interrupted by the unwelcome
arrival of a third party, she hurriedly gave him to understand, with
many professions of gratitude, that it was barely possible she might be
in the garden an hour later, next evening. Sam understood this perfectly
well; and Arabella, bestowing upon him one of her sweetest smiles,
tripped gracefully away, leaving Mr. Weller in a state of very great
admiration of her charms, both personal and mental.
Having descended in safety from the wall, and not forgotten to devote a
few moments to his own particular business in the same department,
Mr. Weller then made the best of his way back to the Bush, where his
prolonged absence had occasioned much speculation and some alarm.
'We must be careful,' said Mr. Pickwick, after listening attentively to
Sam's tale, 'not for our sakes, but for that of the young lady. We must
be very cautious.'
'WE!' said Mr. Winkle, with marked emphasis.
Mr. Pickwick's momentary look of indignation at the tone of this remark,
subsided into his characteristic expression of benevolence, as he
replied--
'WE, Sir! I shall accompany you.'
'You!' said Mr. Winkle.
'I,' replied Mr. Pickwick mildly. 'In affording you this interview,
the young lady has taken a natural, perhaps, but still a very imprudent
step. If I am present at the meeting--a mutual friend, who is old enough
to be the father of both parties--the voice of calumny can never be
raised against her hereafter.'
Mr. Pickwick's eyes lightened with honest exultation at his own
foresight, as he spoke thus. Mr. Winkle was touched by this little trait
of his delicate respect for the young PROTEGEE of his friend, and took
his hand with a feeling of regard, akin to veneration.
'You SHALL go,' said Mr. Winkle.
'I will,' said Mr. Pickwick. 'Sam, have my greatcoat and shawl ready,
and order a conveyance to be at the door to-morrow evening, rather
earlier than is absolutely necessary, in order that we may be in good
time.'
Mr. Weller touched his hat, as an earnest of his obedience, and withdrew
to make all needful preparations for the expedition.
The coach was punctual to the time appointed; and Mr. Weller, after duly
installing Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Winkle inside, took his seat on the box
by the driver. They alighted, as had been agreed on, about a quarter of
a mile from the place of rendezvous, and desiring the coachman to await
their return, proceeded the remaining distance on foot.
It was at this stage of the undertaking that Mr. Pickwick, with many
smiles and various other indications of great self-satisfaction,
produced from one of his coat pockets a dark lantern, with which he had
specially provided himself for the occasion, and the great mechanical
beauty of which he proceeded to explain to Mr. Winkle, as they walked
along, to the no small surprise of the few stragglers they met.
'I should have been the better for something of this kind, in my last
garden expedition, at night; eh, Sam?' said Mr. Pickwick, looking
good-humouredly round at his follower, who was trudging behind.
'Wery nice things, if they're managed properly, Sir,' replied Mr.
Weller; 'but wen you don't want to be seen, I think they're more useful
arter the candle's gone out, than wen it's alight.'
Mr. Pickwick appeared struck by Sam's remarks, for he put the lantern
into his pocket again, and they walked on in silence.
'Down here, Sir,' said Sam. 'Let me lead the way. This is the lane,
Sir.'
Down the lane they went, and dark enough it was. Mr. Pickwick brought
out the lantern, once or twice, as they groped their way along, and
threw a very brilliant little tunnel of light before them, about a
foot in diameter. It was very pretty to look at, but seemed to have the
effect of rendering surrounding objects rather darker than before.
At length they arrived at the large stone. Here Sam recommended his
master and Mr. Winkle to seat themselves, while he reconnoitred, and
ascertained whether Mary was yet in waiting.
After an absence of five or ten minutes, Sam returned to say that the
gate was opened, and all quiet. Following him with stealthy tread,
Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Winkle soon found themselves in the garden. Here
everybody said, 'Hush!' a good many times; and that being done, no one
seemed to have any very distinct apprehension of what was to be done
next.
'Is Miss Allen in the garden yet, Mary?' inquired Mr. Winkle, much
agitated.
'I don't know, sir,' replied the pretty housemaid. 'The best thing to be
done, sir, will be for Mr. Weller to give you a hoist up into the tree,
and perhaps Mr. Pickwick will have the goodness to see that nobody comes
up the lane, while I watch at the other end of the garden. Goodness
gracious, what's that?'
'That 'ere blessed lantern 'ull be the death on us all,' exclaimed Sam
peevishly. 'Take care wot you're a-doin' on, sir; you're a-sendin' a
blaze o' light, right into the back parlour winder.'
'Dear me!' said Mr. Pickwick, turning hastily aside, 'I didn't mean to
do that.'
'Now, it's in the next house, sir,' remonstrated Sam.
'Bless my heart!' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, turning round again.
'Now, it's in the stable, and they'll think the place is afire,' said
Sam. 'Shut it up, sir, can't you?'
'It's the most extraordinary lantern I ever met with, in all my life!'
exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, greatly bewildered by the effects he had so
unintentionally produced. 'I never saw such a powerful reflector.'
'It'll be vun too powerful for us, if you keep blazin' avay in that
manner, sir,' replied Sam, as Mr. Pickwick, after various unsuccessful
efforts, managed to close the slide. 'There's the young lady's
footsteps. Now, Mr. Winkle, sir, up vith you.'
'Stop, stop!' said Mr. Pickwick, 'I must speak to her first. Help me up,
Sam.'
'Gently, Sir,' said Sam, planting his head against the wall, and making
a platform of his back. 'Step atop o' that 'ere flower-pot, Sir. Now
then, up vith you.'
'I'm afraid I shall hurt you, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick.
'Never mind me, Sir,' replied Sam. 'Lend him a hand, Mr. Winkle, sir.
Steady, sir, steady! That's the time o' day!'
As Sam spoke, Mr. Pickwick, by exertions almost supernatural in a
gentleman of his years and weight, contrived to get upon Sam's back; and
Sam gently raising himself up, and Mr. Pickwick holding on fast by the
top of the wall, while Mr. Winkle clasped him tight by the legs, they
contrived by these means to bring his spectacles just above the level of
the coping.
'My dear,' said Mr. Pickwick, looking over the wall, and catching sight
of Arabella, on the other side, 'don't be frightened, my dear, it's only
me.' 'Oh, pray go away, Mr. Pickwick,' said Arabella. 'Tell them all to
go away. I am so dreadfully frightened. Dear, dear Mr. Pickwick, don't
stop there. You'll fall down and kill yourself, I know you will.'
'Now, pray don't alarm yourself, my dear,' said Mr. Pickwick soothingly.
'There is not the least cause for fear, I assure you. Stand firm, Sam,'
said Mr. Pickwick, looking down.
'All right, sir,' replied Mr. Weller. 'Don't be longer than you can
conweniently help, sir. You're rayther heavy.'
'Only another moment, Sam,' replied Mr. Pickwick.
'I merely wished you to know, my dear, that I should not have allowed
my young friend to see you in this clandestine way, if the situation
in which you are placed had left him any alternative; and, lest the
impropriety of this step should cause you any uneasiness, my love, it
may be a satisfaction to you, to know that I am present. That's all, my
dear.'
'Indeed, Mr. Pickwick, I am very much obliged to you for your kindness
and consideration,' replied Arabella, drying her tears with her
handkerchief. She would probably have said much more, had not Mr.
Pickwick's head disappeared with great swiftness, in consequence of a
false step on Sam's shoulder which brought him suddenly to the ground.
He was up again in an instant however; and bidding Mr. Winkle make haste
and get the interview over, ran out into the lane to keep watch, with
all the courage and ardour of youth. Mr. Winkle himself, inspired by the
occasion, was on the wall in a moment, merely pausing to request Sam to
be careful of his master.
'I'll take care on him, sir,' replied Sam. 'Leave him to me.'
'Where is he? What's he doing, Sam?' inquired Mr. Winkle.
'Bless his old gaiters,' rejoined Sam, looking out at the garden door.
'He's a-keepin' guard in the lane vith that 'ere dark lantern, like a
amiable Guy Fawkes! I never see such a fine creetur in my days. Blessed
if I don't think his heart must ha' been born five-and-twenty year arter
his body, at least!'
Mr. Winkle stayed not to hear the encomium upon his friend. He had
dropped from the wall; thrown himself at Arabella's feet; and by this
time was pleading the sincerity of his passion with an eloquence worthy
even of Mr. Pickwick himself.
While these things were going on in the open air, an elderly gentleman
of scientific attainments was seated in his library, two or three houses
off, writing a philosophical treatise, and ever and anon moistening his
clay and his labours with a glass of claret from a venerable-looking
bottle which stood by his side. In the agonies of composition, the
elderly gentleman looked sometimes at the carpet, sometimes at the
ceiling, and sometimes at the wall; and when neither carpet, ceiling,
nor wall afforded the requisite degree of inspiration, he looked out of
the window.
In one of these pauses of invention, the scientific gentleman was
gazing abstractedly on the thick darkness outside, when he was very much
surprised by observing a most brilliant light glide through the air, at
a short distance above the ground, and almost instantaneously vanish.
After a short time the phenomenon was repeated, not once or twice, but
several times; at last the scientific gentleman, laying down his pen,
began to consider to what natural causes these appearances were to be
assigned.
They were not meteors; they were too low. They were not glow-worms; they
were too high. They were not will-o'-the-wisps; they were not fireflies;
they were not fireworks. What could they be? Some extraordinary and
wonderful phenomenon of nature, which no philosopher had ever seen
before; something which it had been reserved for him alone to discover,
and which he should immortalise his name by chronicling for the benefit
of posterity. Full of this idea, the scientific gentleman seized his
pen again, and committed to paper sundry notes of these unparalleled
appearances, with the date, day, hour, minute, and precise second
at which they were visible: all of which were to form the data of a
voluminous treatise of great research and deep learning, which should
astonish all the atmospherical wiseacres that ever drew breath in any
part of the civilised globe.
He threw himself back in his easy-chair, wrapped in contemplations of
his future greatness. The mysterious light appeared more brilliantly
than before, dancing, to all appearance, up and down the lane, crossing
from side to side, and moving in an orbit as eccentric as comets
themselves.
The scientific gentleman was a bachelor. He had no wife to call in and
astonish, so he rang the bell for his servant.
'Pruffle,' said the scientific gentleman, 'there is something very
extraordinary in the air to-night? Did you see that?' said the
scientific gentleman, pointing out of the window, as the light again
became visible.
'Yes, I did, Sir.'
'What do you think of it, Pruffle?'
'Think of it, Sir?'
'Yes. You have been bred up in this country. What should you say was the
cause for those lights, now?'
The scientific gentleman smilingly anticipated Pruffle's reply that he
could assign no cause for them at all. Pruffle meditated.
