inwention.'



'I forgot,' exclaimed Mr. Ben Allen. 'It is my aunt.'



'Dear me!' said Mr. Pickwick. 'Poor lady! Gently Sam, gently.'



'Strange sitivation for one o' the family,' observed Sam Weller,



hoisting the aunt into a chair. 'Now depitty sawbones, bring out



the wollatilly!'



The latter observation was addressed to the boy in gray, who,



having handed over the fly to the care of the street-keeper, had



come back to see what all the noise was about. Between the boy in



gray, and Mr. Bob Sawyer, and Mr. Benjamin Allen (who having



frightened his aunt into a fainting fit, was affectionately solicitous



for her recovery) the old lady was at length restored to



consciousness; then Mr. Ben Allen, turning with a puzzled



countenance to Mr. Pickwick, asked him what he was about to say,



when he had been so alarmingly interrupted.



'We are all friends here, I presume?' said Mr. Pickwick, clearing



his voice, and looking towards the man of few words with the surly



countenance, who drove the fly with the chubby horse.



This reminded Mr. Bob Sawyer that the boy in grey was



looking on, with eyes wide open, and greedy ears. The incipient



chemist having been lifted up by his coat collar, and dropped



outside the door, Bob Sawyer assured Mr. Pickwick that he might



speak without reserve.



'Your sister, my dear sir,' said Mr. Pickwick, turning to



Benjamin Allen, 'is in London; well and happy.'



'Her happiness is no object to me, sir,' said Benjamin Allen,



with a flourish of the hand.



'Her husband is an object to me, sir,' said Bob Sawyer. 'He shall



be an object to me, sir, at twelve paces, and a pretty object I'll



make of him, sir―a mean-spirited scoundrel!' This, as it stood,



was a very pretty denunciation, and magnanimous withal; but Mr.



Bob Sawyer rather weakened its effect, by winding up with some



general observations concerning the punching of heads and



knocking out of eyes, which were commonplace by comparison.



'Stay, sir,' said Mr. Pickwick; 'before you apply those epithets to



the gentleman in question, consider, dispassionately, the extent of



his fault, and above all remember that he is a friend of mine.'



'What!' said Mr. Bob Sawyer. 'His name!' cried Ben Allen. 'His



name!'



'Mr. Nathaniel Winkle,' said Mr, Pickwick.



Mr. Benjamin Allen deliberately crushed his spectacles beneath



the heel of his boot, and having picked up the pieces, and put them



into three separate pockets, folded his arms, bit his lips, and



looked in a threatening manner at the bland features of Mr.



Pickwick.



'Then it's you, is it, sir, who have encouraged and brought



about this match?' inquired Mr. Benjamin Allen at length.



'And it's this gentleman's servant, I suppose,' interrupted the



old lady, 'who has been skulking about my house, and



endeavouring to entrap my servants to conspire against their



mistress.―Martin!'



'Well?' said the surly man, coming forward.



'Is that the young man you saw in the lane, whom you told me



about, this morning?'



Mr. Martin, who, as it has already appeared, was a man of few



words, looked at Sam Weller, nodded his head, and growled forth,



'That's the man.' Mr. Weller, who was never proud, gave a smile of



friendly recognition as his eyes encountered those of the surly



groom, and admitted in courteous terms, that he had 'knowed him



afore.'



'And this is the faithful creature,' exclaimed Mr. Ben Allen,



'whom I had nearly suffocated!―Mr. Pickwick, how dare you



allow your fellow to be employed in the abduction of my sister? I



demand that you explain this matter, sir.'



'Explain it, sir!' cried Bob Sawyer fiercely.



'It's a conspiracy,' said Ben Allen.



'A regular plant,' added Mr. Bob Sawyer.



'A disgraceful imposition,' observed the old lady.



'Nothing but a do,' remarked Martin.



'Pray hear me,' urged Mr. Pickwick, as Mr. Ben Allen fell into a



chair that patients were bled in, and gave way to his pocket-



handkerchief. 'I have rendered no assistance in this matter,



beyond being present at one interview between the young people



which I could not prevent, and from which I conceived my



presence would remove any slight colouring of impropriety that it



might otherwise have had; this is the whole share I have had in the



transaction, and I had no suspicion that an immediate marriage



was even contemplated. Though, mind,' added Mr. Pickwick,



hastily checking himself―'mind, I do not say I should have



prevented it, if I had known that it was intended.'



'You hear that, all of you; you hear that?' said Mr. Benjamin



Allen.



'I hope they do,' mildly observed Mr. Pickwick, looking round,



'and,' added that gentleman, his colour mounting as he spoke, 'I



hope they hear this, sir, also. That from what has been stated to



me, sir, I assert that you were by no means justified in attempting



to force your sister's inclinations as you did, and that you should



rather have endeavoured by your kindness and forbearance to



have supplied the place of other nearer relations whom she had



never known, from a child. As regards my young friend, I must



beg to add, that in every point of worldly advantage he is, at least,



on an equal footing with yourself, if not on a much better one, and



that unless I hear this question discussed with becoming temper



and moderation, I decline hearing any more said upon the



subject.'



'I wish to make a wery few remarks in addition to wot has been



put for'ard by the honourable gen'l'm'n as has jist give over,' said



Mr. Weller, stepping forth, 'wich is this here: a indiwidual in



company has called me a feller.'



'That has nothing whatever to do with the matter, Sam,'



interposed Mr. Pickwick. 'Pray hold your tongue.'



'I ain't a-goin' to say nothin' on that 'ere pint, sir,' replied Sam,



'but merely this here. P'raps that gen'l'm'n may think as there wos



a priory 'tachment; but there worn't nothin' o' the sort, for the



young lady said in the wery beginnin' o' the keepin' company, that



she couldn't abide him. Nobody's cut him out, and it 'ud ha' been



jist the wery same for him if the young lady had never seen Mr.



Vinkle. That's what I wished to say, sir, and I hope I've now made



that 'ere gen'l'm'n's mind easy.



A short pause followed these consolatory remarks of Mr. Weller.



Then Mr. Ben Allen rising from his chair, protested that he would



never see Arabella's face again; while Mr. Bob Sawyer, despite



Sam's flatteringassurance, vowed dreadful vengeance on the



happy bridegroom.



But, just when matters were at their height, and threatening to



remain so, Mr. Pickwick found a powerful assistant in the old lady,



who, evidently much struck by the mode in which he had



advocated her niece's cause, ventured to approach Mr. Benjamin



Allen with a few comforting reflections, of which the chief were,



that after all, perhaps, it was well it was no worse; the least said



the soonest mended, and upon her word she did not know that it



was so very bad after all; what was over couldn't be begun, and



what couldn't be cured must be endured; with various other



assurances of the like novel and strengthening description. To all



of these, Mr. Benjamin Allen replied that he meant no disrespect



to his aunt, or anybody there, but if it were all the same to them,



and they would allow him to have his own way, he would rather



have the pleasure of hating his sister till death, and after it.



At length, when this determination had been announced half a



hundred times, the old lady suddenly bridling up and looking very



majestic, wished to know what she had done that no respect was



to be paid to her years or station, and that she should be obliged to



beg and pray, in that way, of her own nephew, whom she



remembered about five-and-twenty years before he was born, and



whom she had known, personally, when he hadn't a tooth in his



head; to say nothing of her presence on the first occasion of his



having his hair cut, and assistance at numerous other times and



ceremonies during his babyhood, of sufficient importance to found



a claim upon his affection, obedience, and sympathies, for ever.



While the good lady was bestowing this objurgation on Mr. Ben



Allen, Bob Sawyer and Mr. Pickwick had retired in close



conversation to the inner room, where Mr. Sawyer was observed



to apply himself several times to the mouth of a black bottle, under



the influence of which, his features gradually assumed a cheerful



and even jovial expression. And at last he emerged from the room,



bottle in hand, and, remarking that he was very sorry to say he



had been making a fool of himself, begged to propose the health



and happiness of Mr. and Mrs. Winkle, whose felicity, so far from



envying, he would be the first to congratulate them upon. Hearing



this, Mr. Ben Allen suddenly arose from his chair, and, seizing the



black bottle, drank the toast so heartily, that, the liquor being



strong, he became nearly as black in the face as the bottle. Finally,



the black bottle went round till it was empty, and there was so



much shaking of hands and interchanging of compliments, that



even the metal-visaged Mr. Martin condescended to smile.



'And now,' said Bob Sawyer, rubbing his hands, 'we'll have a



jolly night.'



'I am sorry,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'that I must return to my inn. I



have not been accustomed to fatigue lately, and my journey has



tired me exceedingly.'



'You'll take some tea, Mr. Pickwick?' said the old lady, with



irresistiblesweetness.



'Thank you, I would rather not,' replied that gentleman. The



truth is, that the old lady's evidently increasing admiration was



Mr. Pickwick's principal inducement for going away. He thought



of Mrs. Bardell; and every glance of the old lady's eyes threw him



into a cold perspiration.



As Mr. Pickwick could by no means be prevailed upon to stay, it



was arranged at once, on his own proposition, that Mr. Benjamin



Allen should accompany him on his journey to the elder Mr.



Winkle's, and that the coach should be at the door, at nine o'clock



next morning. He then took his leave, and, followed by Samuel



Weller, repaired to the Bush. It is worthy of remark, that Mr.



Martin's face was horribly convulsed as he shook hands with Sam



at parting, and that he gave vent to a smile and an oath



simultaneously; from which tokens it has been inferred by those



who were best acquainted with that gentleman's peculiarities, that



he expressed himself much pleased with Mr. Weller's society, and



requested the honour of his further acquaintance.



'Shall I order a private room, sir?' inquired Sam, when they



reached the Bush.



'Why, no, Sam,' replied Mr. Pickwick; 'as I dined in the coffee-



room, and shall go to bed soon, it is hardly worth while. See who



there is in the travellers' room, Sam.'



Mr. Weller departed on his errand, and presently returned to



say that there was only a gentleman with one eye; and that he and



the landlord were drinking a bowl of bishop together.



'I will join them,' said Mr. Pickwick.



'He's a queer customer, the vun-eyed vun, sir,' observed Mr.



Weller, as he led the way. 'He's a-gammonin' that 'ere landlord, he



is, sir, till he don't rightly know wether he's a-standing on the soles



of his boots or the crown of his hat.'



The individual to whom this observation referred, was sitting at



the upper end of the room when Mr. Pickwick entered, and was



smoking a large Dutch pipe, with his eye intently fixed on the



round face of the landlord; a jolly-looking old personage, to whom



he had recently been relating some tale of wonder, as was testified



by sundry disjointed exclamations of, 'Well, I wouldn't have



believed it! The strangest thing I ever heard! Couldn't have



supposed it possible!' and other expressions of astonishment



which burst spontaneously from his lips, as he returned the fixed



gaze of the one-eyed man.



'Servant, sir,' said the one-eyed man to Mr. Pickwick. 'Fine



night, sir.'



'Very much so indeed,' replied Mr. Pickwick, as the waiter



placed a small decanter of brandy, and some hot water before him.



While Mr. Pickwick was mixing his brandy-and-water, the one-



eyed man looked round at him earnestly, from time to time, and at



length said―



'I think I've seen you before.'



'I don't recollect you,' rejoined Mr. Pickwick.



'I dare say not,' said the one-eyed man. 'You didn't know me,



but I knew two friends of yours that were stopping at the Peacock



at Eatanswill, at the time of the election.'



'Oh, indeed!' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.



'Yes,' rejoined the one-eyed man. 'I mentioned a little



circumstance to them about a friend of mine of the name of Tom



Smart. Perhaps you've heard them speak of it.'



'Often,' rejoined Mr. Pickwick, smiling. 'He was your uncle, I



think?'



'No, no; only a friend of my uncle's,' replied the one-eyed man.



'He was a wonderful man, that uncle of yours, though,'



remarked the landlord shaking his head.



'Well, I think he was; I think I may say he was,' answered the



one-eyed man. 'I could tell you a story about that same uncle,



gentlemen, that would rather surprise you.'



'Could you?' said Mr. Pickwick. 'Let us hear it, by all means.'



The one-eyed bagman ladled out a glass of negus from the bowl,



and drank it; smoked a long whiff out of the Dutch pipe; and then,



calling to Sam Weller who was lingering near the door, that he



needn't go away unless he wanted to, because the story was no



secret, fixed his eye upon the landlord's, and proceeded, in the



words of the next chapter.

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