CHAPTER XX

  _Relates how Mr. Pickwick, with the assistance of Samuel Weller, essayed to soften the Heart of Mr. Benjamin Allen, and to mollify the Wrath of Mr. Robert Sawyer_

  Mr. Ben Allen and Mr. Bob Sawyer sat together in the little surgerybehind the shop, discussing minced veal and future prospects, whenthe discourse, not unnaturally, turned upon the practice acquired byBob the aforesaid, and his present chances of deriving a competentindependence from the honourable profession to which he had devotedhimself.

  "--Which, I think," observed Mr. Bob Sawyer, pursuing the thread of thesubject, "which I think, Ben, are rather dubious."

  "What's rather dubious?" inquired Mr. Ben Allen, at the same timesharpening his intellects with a draught of beer. "What's dubious?"

  "Why, the chances," responded Mr. Bob Sawyer.

  "I forgot," said Mr. Ben Allen. "The beer has reminded me that Iforgot, Bob--yes; they _are_ dubious."

  "It's wonderful how the poor people patronise me," said Mr. Bob Sawyer,reflectively. "They knock me up at all hours of the night; they takemedicine to an extent which I should have conceived impossible; theyput on blisters and leeches with a perseverance worthy of a bettercause; they make additions to their families, in a manner which isquite awful. Six of those last-named little promissory notes, all dueon the same day, Ben, and all entrusted to me!"

  "It's very gratifying, isn't it?" said Mr. Ben Allen, holding his platefor some more minced veal.

  "Oh, very," replied Bob; "only not quite so much so, as the confidenceof patients with a shilling or two to spare would be. This business wascapitally described in the advertisement, Ben. It is a practice, a veryextensive practice--and that's all."

  "Bob," said Mr. Ben Allen, laying down his knife and fork, and fixinghis eyes on the visage of his friend: "Bob, I'll tell you what it is."

  "What is it?" inquired Mr. Bob Sawyer.

  "You must make yourself, with as little delay as possible, master ofArabella's one thousand pounds."

  "Three per cent. consolidated Bank annuities, now standing in hername in the book or books of the Governor and Company of the Bank ofEngland," added Bob Sawyer, in legal phraseology.

  "Exactly so," said Ben. "She has it when she comes of age, or marries.She wants a year of coming of age, and if you plucked up a spirit sheneedn't want a month of being married."

  "She's a very charming and delightful creature," quoth Mr. RobertSawyer, in reply; "and has only one fault that I know of, Ben. Ithappens, unfortunately, that that single blemish is a want of taste.She don't like me."

  "It's my opinion that she don't know what she does like," said Mr. BenAllen, contemptuously.

  "Perhaps not," remarked Mr. Bob Sawyer. "But it's my opinion that shedoes know what she doesn't like, and that's of more importance."

  "I wish," said Mr. Ben Allen, setting his teeth together, and speakingmore like a savage warrior who fed on raw wolf's flesh which he carvedwith his fingers, than a peaceable young gentleman who ate minced vealwith a knife and fork, "I wish I knew whether any rascal really hasbeen tampering with her, and attempting to engage her affections. Ithink I should assassinate him, Bob."

  "I'd put a bullet in him, if I found him out," said Mr. Sawyer,stopping in the course of a long draught of beer, and lookingmalignantly out of the porter pot. "If that didn't do his business, I'dextract it afterwards, and kill him that way."

  Mr. Benjamin Allen gazed abstractedly on his friend for some minutes insilence, and then said:

  "You have never proposed to her, point-blank, Bob?"

  "No. Because I saw it would be of no use," replied Mr. Robert Sawyer.

  "You shall do it, before you are twenty-four hours older," retortedBen, with desperate calmness. "She _shall_ have you, or I'll know thereason why. I'll exert my authority."

  "Well," said Mr. Bob Sawyer, "we shall see."

  "We _shall_ see, my friend," replied Mr. Ben Allen fiercely. He pausedfor a few seconds, and added in a voice broken by emotion, "You haveloved her from a child, my friend. You loved her when we were boys atschool together, and, even then, she was wayward, and slighted youryoung feelings. Do you recollect, with all the eagerness of a child'slove, one day pressing upon her acceptance two small caraway-seedbiscuits and one sweet apple, neatly folded into a circular parcel withthe leaf of a copybook?"

  "I do," replied Bob Sawyer.

  "She slighted that, I think?" said Ben Allen.

  "She did," rejoined Bob. "She said I had kept the parcel so long in thepockets of my corduroys that the apple was unpleasantly warm."

  "I remember," said Mr. Allen, gloomily. "Upon which we ate itourselves, in alternate bites."

  Bob Sawyer intimated his recollection of the circumstance last alludedto, by a melancholy frown; and the two friends remained for some timeabsorbed, each in his own meditations.

  While these observations were being exchanged between Mr. Bob Sawyerand Mr. Benjamin Allen; and while the boy in the grey livery,marvelling at the unwonted prolongation of the dinner, cast an anxiouslook, from time to time, towards the glass door, distracted byinward misgivings regarding the amount of minced veal which would beultimately reserved for his individual cravings; there rolled soberlyon through the streets of Bristol, a private fly, painted of a sadgreen colour, drawn by a chubby sort of brown horse, and driven bya surly-looking man with his legs dressed like the legs of a groom,and his body attired in the coat of a coachman. Such appearances arecommon to many vehicles belonging to, and maintained by, old ladiesof economic habits; and in this vehicle sat an old lady who was itsmistress and proprietor.

  "Martin!" said the old lady, calling to the surly man, out of the frontwindow.

  "Well?" said the surly man, touching his hat to the old lady.

  "Mr. Sawyer's," said the old lady.

  "I was going there," said the surly man.

  The old lady nodded the satisfaction which this proof of the surlyman's foresight imparted to her feelings; and the surly man giving asmart lash to the chubby horse, they all repaired to Mr. Bob Sawyer'stogether.

  "Martin!" said the old lady, when the fly stopped at the door of Mr.Robert Sawyer late Nockemorf.

  "Well?" said Martin.

  "Ask the lad to step out and mind the horse."

  "I'm going to mind the horse myself," said Martin, laying his whip onthe roof of the fly.

  "I can't permit it on any account," said the old lady; "your testimonywill be very important, and I must take you into the house with me. Youmust not stir from my side during the whole interview. Do you hear?"

  "I hear," replied Martin.

  "Well; what are you stopping for?"

  "Nothing," replied Martin. So saying, the surly man leisurely descendedfrom the wheel, on which he had been poising himself on the tips of thetoes of his right foot, and having summoned the boy in the grey livery,opened the coach-door, flung down the steps, and thrusting in a handenveloped in a dark wash-leather glove, pulled out the old lady with asmuch concern in his manner as if she were a bandbox.

  "Dear me!" exclaimed the old lady. "I am so flurried, now I have gothere, Martin, that I'm all in a tremble."

  Mr. Martin coughed behind the dark wash-leather glove, but expressedno sympathy; so the old lady, composing herself, trotted up Mr. BobSawyer's steps, and Mr. Martin followed. Immediately on the old lady'sentering the shop, Mr. Benjamin Allen and Mr. Bob Sawyer, who had beenputting the spirits and water out of sight, and upsetting nauseousdrugs to take off the smell of the tobacco-smoke, issued hastily forthin a transport of pleasure and affection.

  "My dear aunt," exclaimed Mr. Ben Allen, "how kind of you to look inupon us! Mr. Sawyer, aunt; my friend Mr. Bob Sawyer whom I have spokento you about, regarding--you know, aunt." And here Mr. Ben Allen, whowas not at the moment extraordinarily sober, added the word "Arabella,"in what was meant to be a whisper, but which was an especially audibleand distinct tone of speech, which nobody could avoid hearing, ifanybody were so disposed.

  "My dear Benjamin,"
said the old lady, struggling with a greatshortness of breath, and trembling from head to foot: "don't bealarmed, my dear, but I think I had better speak to Mr. Sawyer alonefor a moment. Only for one moment."

  "Bob," said Mr. Allen, "will you take my aunt into the surgery?"

  "Certainly," responded Bob, in a most professional voice. "Step thisway, my dear ma'am. Don't be frightened, ma'am. We shall be able to setyou to rights in a very short time, I have no doubt, ma'am. Here, mydear ma'am. Now then!" With this, Mr. Bob Sawyer, having handed the oldlady to a chair, shut the door, drew another chair close to her, andwaited to hear detailed the symptoms of some disorder from which he sawin perspective a long train of profits and advantages.

  The first thing the old lady did, was to shake her head a great manytimes and begin to cry.

  "Nervous," said Bob Sawyer, complacently. "Camphor-julep and waterthree times a day, and composing draught at night."

  "I don't know how to begin, Mr. Sawyer," said the old lady. "It is sovery painful and distressing."

  "You need not begin, ma'am," rejoined Mr. Bob Sawyer. "I can anticipateall you would say. The head is in fault."

  "I should be very sorry to think it was the heart," said the old lady,with a slight groan.

  "Not the slightest danger of that, ma'am," replied Bob Sawyer. "Thestomach is the primary cause."

  "Mr. Sawyer!" exclaimed the old lady, starting.

  "Not the least doubt of it, ma'am," rejoined Bob, looking wondrouswise. "Medicine, in time, my dear ma'am, would have prevented it all."

  "Mr. Sawyer," said the old lady, more flurried than before, "thisconduct is either great impertinence to one in my situation sir, orit arises from your not understanding the object of my visit. If ithad been in the power of medicine, or any foresight I could have used,to prevent what has occurred, I should certainly have done so. I hadbetter see my nephew at once," said the old lady, twirling her reticuleindignantly, and rising as she spoke.

  "Stop a moment, ma'am," said Bob Sawyer; "I'm afraid I have notunderstood you. What _is_ the matter, ma'am?"

  "My niece, Mr. Sawyer," said the old lady: "your friend's sister."

  "Yes, ma'am," said Bob, all impatience; for the old lady, although muchagitated, spoke with the most tantalising deliberation, as old ladiesoften do. "Yes, ma'am."

  "Left my home, Mr. Sawyer, three days ago, on a pretended visit to mysister, another aunt of hers, who keeps the large boarding-school justbeyond the third mile-stone where there is a very large laburnum treeand an oak gate," said the old lady, stopping in this place to dry hereyes.

  "Oh, devil take the laburnum tree! ma'am," said Bob, quite forgettinghis professional dignity in his anxiety. "Get on a little faster; put alittle more steam on, ma'am, pray."

  "This morning," said the old lady, slowly, "this morning she----"

  "She came back, ma'am, I suppose," said Bob, with great animation. "Didshe come back?"

  "No, she did not; she wrote," replied the old lady.

  "What did she say?" inquired Bob, eagerly.

  "She said, Mr. Sawyer," replied the old lady,--"and it is this Iwant you to prepare Benjamin's mind for, gently and by degrees; shesaid that she was--I have got the letter in my pocket, Mr. Sawyer, butmy glasses are in the carriage, and I should only waste your time if Iattempted to point out the passage to you, without them; she said, inshort, Mr. Sawyer, that she was married."

  "What!" said, or rather shouted, Mr. Bob Sawyer.

  "Married," repeated the old lady.

  Mr. Bob Sawyer stopped to hear no more; but darting from the surgeryinto the outer shop, cried in a stentorian voice, "Ben, my boy, she'sbolted!"

  Mr. Ben Allen, who had been slumbering behind the counter, with hishead half a foot or so below his knees, no sooner heard this appallingcommunication, than he made a precipitate rush at Mr. Martin, and,twisting his hand in the neckcloth of that taciturn servitor, expressedan intention of choking him where he stood. This intention, with apromptitude often the effect of desperation, he at once commencedcarrying into execution, with much vigour and surgical skill.

  Mr. Martin, who was a man of few words and possessed but littlepower of eloquence or persuasion, submitted to this operation witha very calm and agreeable expression of countenance, for someseconds; finding, however, that it threatened speedily to lead to aresult, which would place it beyond his power to claim any wages,board or otherwise, in all time to come, he muttered an inarticulateremonstrance and felled Mr. Benjamin Allen to the ground. As thatgentleman had his hands entangled in his cravat, he had no alternativebut to follow him to the floor. There they both lay struggling, whenthe shop door opened, and the party was increased by the arrival of twomost unexpected visitors; to wit, Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Samuel Weller.

  _He felled Mr. Benjamin Allen to the ground_]

  The impression at once produced on Mr. Weller's mind by what hesaw, was, that Mr. Martin was hired by the establishment of Sawyerlate Nockemorf, to take strong medicine, or to go into fits and beexperimentalised upon, or to swallow poison now and then with the viewof testing the efficacy of some new antidotes, or to do something orother to promote the great science of medicine, and gratify the ardentspirit of inquiry burning in the bosoms of its two young professors.So without presuming to interfere, Sam stood perfectly still, andlooked on, as if he were mightily interested in the result of the thenpending experiment. Not so Mr. Pickwick. He at once threw himself onthe astonished combatants, with his accustomed energy, and loudlycalled upon the bystanders to interpose.

  This roused Mr. Bob Sawyer, who had been hitherto quite paralysed bythe frenzy of his companion. With that gentleman's assistance, Mr.Pickwick raised Ben Allen to his feet. Mr. Martin, finding himselfalone on the floor, got up, and looked about him.

  "Mr. Allen," said Mr. Pickwick, "what is the matter, sir?"

  "Never mind, sir!" replied Mr. Allen, with haughty defiance.

  "What is it?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, looking at Bob Sawyer. "Is heunwell?"

  Before Bob could reply, Mr. Ben Allen seized Mr. Pickwick by the hand,and murmured in sorrowful accents, "My sister, my dear sir; my sister."

  "Oh, is that all?" said Mr. Pickwick. "We shall easily arrange thatmatter, I hope. Your sister is safe and well, and I am here, my dearsir, to----"

  "Sorry to do anythin' as may cause an interruption to such werypleasant proceedin's, as the king said ven he dissolved theparliament," interposed Mr. Weller, who had been peeping throughthe glass door; "but there's another experiment here, sir. Here's awenerable old lady a lyin' on the carpet waiting for dissection, orgalwinism, or some other rewivin' and scientific 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 thewollatilly!"

  The latter observation was addressed to the boy in grey, who, havinghanded over the fly to the care of the street-keeper, had come back tosee what all the noise was about. Between the boy in grey, and Mr. BobSawyer, and Mr. Benjamin Allen (who having frightened his aunt into afainting fit, was affectionately solicitous for her recovery), the oldlady was, at length, restored to consciousness; then Mr. Ben Allen,turning with a puzzled countenance to Mr. Pickwick, asked him what hewas about to say, when he had been so alarmingly interrupted.

  "We are all friends here, I presume?" said Mr. Pickwick, clearinghis voice, and looking towards the man of few words with the surlycountenance who drove the fly with the chubby horse.

  This reminded Mr. Bob Sawyer that the boy in grey was looking on, witheyes wide open, and greedy ears. The incipient chemist having beenlifted up by his coat collar, and dropped outside the door, Bob Sawyerassured Mr. Pickwick that he might speak without reserve.

  "Your sister, my dear sir," said Mr. Pickwick, turning to BenjaminAllen, "is in London; well and happy."

  "Her happiness is no object
to me, sir," said Mr. Benjamin Allen, witha flourish of the hand.

  "Her husband _is_ an object to _me_, sir," said Bob Sawyer. "He shallbe an object to me sir, at twelve paces, and a very pretty objectI'll make of him, sir--a mean-spirited scoundrel!" This, as it stood,was a very pretty denunciation, and magnanimous withal; but Mr. BobSawyer rather weakened its effect, by winding up with some generalobservations 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 thegentleman in question, consider, dispassionately, the extent of hisfault, 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 theheel of his boot, and having picked up the pieces, and put them intothree separate pockets, folded his arms, bit his lips, and looked in athreatening manner at the bland features of Mr. Pickwick.

  "Then it's you, is it, sir, who have encouraged and brought about thismatch?" inquired Mr. Benjamin Allen at length.

  "And it's this gentleman's servant, I suppose," interrupted the oldlady, "who has been skulking about my house, and endeavouring to entrapmy 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'sthe man!" Mr. Weller, who was never proud, gave a smile of friendlyrecognition as his eyes encountered those of the surly groom, andadmitted, in courteous terms, that he had "knowed him afore."

  "And this is the faithful creature," exclaimed Mr. Ben Allen, "whom Ihad nearly suffocated! Mr. Pickwick, how dare you allow your fellow tobe employed in the abduction of my sister? I demand that you explainthis matter, sir."

  "Explain it, sir!" cried Mr. 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 chairthat patients were bled in, and gave way to his pocket-handkerchief."I have rendered no assistance in this matter, beyond that of beingpresent at one interview between the young people, which I could notprevent, and from which I conceived my presence would remove any slightcolouring of impropriety that it might otherwise have had; this is thewhole share I have taken in the transaction, and I had no suspicionthat an immediate marriage was even contemplated. Though mind," addedMr. Pickwick, hastily checking himself, "mind I do not say I shouldhave 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 theyhear this, sir, also. That from what has been stated to me, sir, Iassert that you were by no means justified in attempting to force yoursister's inclinations as you did, and that you should rather haveendeavoured by your kindness and forbearance to have supplied the placeof other nearer relations whom she has never known, from a child. Asregards my young friend, I must beg to add, that in every point ofworldly advantage, he is, at least, on an equal footing with yourself,if not on a much better one, and that unless I hear this questiondiscussed with becoming temper and moderation, I decline hearing anymore said upon the subject."

  "I wish to make a wery few remarks in addition to wot has been putforard by the honourable gen'l'm'n as has jist give over," said Mr.Weller, stepping forth, "which is this here: a indiwidual in companyhas 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 apriory 'tachment; but there worn't nothin' o' the sort, for the younglady said, in the wery beginnin' o' keepin' company, that she couldn'tabide him. Nobody's cut him out, and it 'ud ha' been jist the werysame for him if the young lady had never seen Mr. Vinkle. That's wot Iwished to say, sir, and I hope I've now made that 'ere gen'l'm'n's mindeasy."

  A short pause followed these consolatory remarks of Mr. Weller. ThenMr. Ben Allen, rising from his chair, protested that he would never seeArabella'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 remainso, Mr. Pickwick found a powerful assistant in the old lady, who,evidently much struck by the mode in which he had advocated her niece'scause, ventured to approach Mr. Benjamin Allen with a few comfortingreflections, of which the chief were, that after all, perhaps, itwas well it was no worse; the least said the soonest mended, and uponher word she did not know that it was so very bad after all; what wasover couldn't be begun, and what couldn't be cured must be endured:with various other assurances of the like novel and strengtheningdescription. To all of these, Mr. Benjamin Allen replied that he meantno disrespect to his aunt, or anybody there, but if it were all thesame to them, and they would allow him to have his own way, he wouldrather have the pleasure of hating his sister till death, and after it.

  At length, when this determination had been announced half a hundredtimes, 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 heryears or station, and that she should be obliged to beg and pray, inthat way, of her own nephew, whom she remembered about five-and-twentyyears before he was born, and whom she had known personally, when hehadn't a tooth in his head? To say nothing of her presence on the firstoccasion of his having his hair cut, and assistance at numerous othertimes and ceremonies during his babyhood, of sufficient importance tofound 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 theinner room, where Mr. Sawyer was observed to apply himself severaltimes to the mouth of a black bottle, under the influence of which, hisfeatures gradually assumed a cheerful, and even jovial expression. Andat last he emerged from the room, bottle in hand, and, remarking thathe was very sorry to say he had been making a fool of himself, beggedto propose the health and happiness of Mr. and Mrs. Winkle, whosefelicity, so far from envying, he would be the first to congratulatethem upon. Hearing this, Mr. Ben Allen suddenly arose from his chair,and, seizing the black bottle, drank the toast so heartily, that, theliquor being strong, he nearly became as black in the face as thebottle. Finally, the black bottle went round till it was empty, andthere 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 jollynight."

  "I am sorry," said Mr. Pickwick, "that I must return to my inn. I havenot been accustomed to fatigue lately, and my journey has tired meexceedingly."

  "You'll take some tea, Mr. Pickwick?" said the old lady, withirresistible sweetness.

  "Thank you, I would rather not," replied that gentleman. The truth is,that the old lady's evidently increasing admiration was Mr. Pickwick'sprincipal inducement for going away. He thought of Mrs. Bardell; andevery 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 wasarranged at once, on his own proposition, that Mr. Benjamin Allenshould accompany him on his journey to the elder Mr. Winkle's, and thatthe coach should be at the door at nine o'clock next morning. He thentook his leave, and, followed by Samue
l Weller, repaired to the Bush.It is worthy of remark, that Mr. Martin's face was horribly convulsedas he shook hands with Sam at parting, and that he gave vent to a smileand an oath simultaneously: from which tokens it has been inferred bythose who were best acquainted with that gentleman's peculiarities,that he expressed himself much pleased with Mr. Weller's society, andrequested the honour of his further acquaintance.

  "Shall I order a private room, sir?" inquired Sam, when they reachedthe 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 inthe travellers' room, Sam."

  Mr. Weller departed on his errand, and presently returned to say, therewas only a gentleman with one eye; and that he and the landlord weredrinking 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, ashe led the way. "He's a gammonin' that 'ere landlord, he is, sir, tillhe don't rightly know vether he's a standing on the soles of his bootsor the crown of his hat."

  The individual to whom this observation referred, was sitting at theupper end of the room when Mr. Pickwick entered, and was smoking alarge Dutch pipe, with his eye intently fixed on the round face of thelandlord: a jolly-looking old personage, to whom he had recently beenrelating some tale of wonder, as was testified by sundry disjointedexclamations of, "Well, I wouldn't have believed it! The strangestthing I ever heard! Couldn't have supposed it possible!" and otherexpressions of astonishment which burst spontaneously from his lips, ashe 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 asmall decanter of brandy and some hot water before him.

  While Mr. Pickwick was mixing his brandy and water, the one-eyed manlooked 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 daresay not," said the one-eyed man. "You didn't know me, but I knewtwo 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 tothem about a friend of mine of the name of Tom Smart. Perhaps you haveheard them speaking 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 thelandlord, shaking his head.

  "Well, I think he was, I think I may say he was," answered the one-eyedman. "I could tell you a story about that same uncle, gentlemen, thatwould 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, anddrank it; smoked a long whiff out of the Dutch pipe; and then, callingto Sam Weller, who was lingering near the door, that he needn't goaway, unless he wanted to, because the story was no secret, fixedhis eye upon the landlord's and proceeded, in the words of the nextchapter.