CHAPTER XXXIX. MR. SAMUEL WELLER, BEING INTRUSTED WITH A MISSION OFLOVE, PROCEEDS TO EXECUTE IT; WITH WHAT SUCCESS WILL HEREINAFTER APPEAR
During the whole of next day, Sam kept Mr. Winkle steadily in sight,fully determined not to take his eyes off him for one instant, until heshould receive express instructions from the fountain-head. Howeverdisagreeable Sam's very close watch and great vigilance were to Mr.Winkle, he thought it better to bear with them, than, by any act ofviolent opposition, to hazard being carried away by force, which Mr.Weller more than once strongly hinted was the line of conduct that astrict sense of duty prompted him to pursue. There is little reason todoubt that Sam would very speedily have quieted his scruples, by bearingMr. Winkle back to Bath, bound hand and foot, had not Mr. Pickwick'sprompt attention to the note, which Dowler had undertaken to deliver,forestalled any such proceeding. In short, at eight o'clock in theevening, Mr. Pickwick himself walked into the coffee-room of the BushTavern, and told Sam with a smile, to his very great relief, that he haddone quite right, and it was unnecessary for him to mount guard anylonger.
'I thought it better to come myself,' said Mr. Pickwick, addressing Mr.Winkle, as Sam disencumbered him of his great-coat and travelling-shawl,'to ascertain, before I gave my consent to Sam's employment in thismatter, that you are quite in earnest and serious, with respect to thisyoung lady.'
'Serious, from my heart--from my soul!' returned Mr. Winkle, with greatenergy.
'Remember,' said Mr. Pickwick, with beaming eyes, 'we met her at ourexcellent and hospitable friend's, Winkle. It would be an ill return totamper lightly, and without due consideration, with this young lady'saffections. I'll not allow that, sir. I'll not allow it.'
'I have no such intention, indeed,' exclaimed Mr. Winkle warmly. 'I haveconsidered the matter well, for a long time, and I feel that myhappiness is bound up in her.'
'That's wot we call tying it up in a small parcel, sir,' interposed Mr.Weller, with an agreeable smile.
Mr. Winkle looked somewhat stern at this interruption, and Mr. Pickwickangrily requested his attendant not to jest with one of the bestfeelings of our nature; to which Sam replied, 'That he wouldn't, if hewas aware on it; but there were so many on 'em, that he hardly know'dwhich was the best ones wen he heerd 'em mentioned.'
Mr. Winkle then recounted what had passed between himself and Mr. BenAllen, relative to Arabella; stated that his object was to gain aninterview with the young lady, and make a formal disclosure of hispassion; and declared his conviction, founded on certain dark hints andmutterings of the aforesaid Ben, that, wherever she was at presentimmured, it was somewhere near the Downs. And this was his whole stockof knowledge or suspicion on the subject.
With this very slight clue to guide him, it was determined that Mr.Weller should start next morning on an expedition of discovery; it wasalso arranged that Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Winkle, who were less confidentof their powers, should parade the town meanwhile, and accidentally dropin upon Mr. Bob Sawyer in the course of the day, in the hope of seeingor hearing something of the young lady's whereabouts.
Accordingly, next morning, Sam Weller issued forth upon his quest, in noway daunted by the very discouraging prospect before him; and away hewalked, up one street and down another--we were going to say, up onehill and down another, only it's all uphill at Clifton--without meetingwith anything or anybody that tended to throw the faintest light on thematter in hand. Many were the colloquies into which Sam entered withgrooms who were airing horses on roads, and nursemaids who were airingchildren in lanes; but nothing could Sam elicit from either the first-mentioned or the last, which bore the slightest reference to the objectof his artfully-prosecuted inquiries. There were a great many youngladies in a great many houses, the greater part whereof were shrewdlysuspected by the male and female domestics to be deeply attached tosomebody, or perfectly ready to become so, if opportunity afforded. Butas none among these young ladies was Miss Arabella Allen, theinformation left Sam at exactly the old point of wisdom at which he hadstood before.
Sam struggled across the Downs against a good high wind, wonderingwhether it was always necessary to hold your hat on with both hands inthat part of the country, and came to a shady by-place, about which weresprinkled several little villas of quiet and secluded appearance.Outside a stable door at the bottom of a long back lane without athoroughfare, a groom in undress was idling about, apparently persuadinghimself that he was doing something with a spade and a wheel-barrow. Wemay remark, in this place, that we have scarcely ever seen a groom neara stable, in his lazy moments, who has not been, to a greater or lessextent, the victim of this singular delusion.
Sam thought he might as well talk to this groom as to any one else,especially as he was very tired with walking, and there was a good largestone just opposite the wheel-barrow; so he strolled down the lane, and,seating himself on the stone, opened a conversation with the ease andfreedom for which he was remarkable.
'Mornin', old friend,' said Sam.
'Arternoon, you mean,' replied the groom, casting a surly look at Sam.
'You're wery right, old friend,' said Sam; 'I _do_ mean arternoon. Howare you?'
'Why, I don't find myself much the better for seeing of you,' repliedthe ill-tempered groom.
'That's wery odd--that is,' said Sam, 'for you look so uncommoncheerful, and seem altogether so lively, that it does vun's heart goodto see you.'
The surly groom looked surlier still at this, but not sufficiently so toproduce any effect upon Sam, who immediately inquired, with acountenance of great anxiety, whether his master's name was not Walker.
'No, it ain't,' said the groom.
'Nor Brown, I s'pose?' said Sam.
'No, it ain't.'
'Nor Vilson?'
'No; nor that either,' said the groom.
'Vell,' replied Sam, 'then I'm mistaken, and he hasn't got the honour o'my acquaintance, which I thought he had. Don't wait here out o'compliment to me,' said Sam, as the groom wheeled in the barrow, andprepared to shut the gate. 'Ease afore ceremony, old boy; I'll excuseyou.'
'I'd knock your head off for half-a-crown,' said the surly groom,bolting one half of the gate.
'Couldn't afford to have it done on those terms,' rejoined Sam. 'It 'udbe worth a life's board wages at least, to you, and 'ud be cheap atthat. Make my compliments indoors. Tell 'em not to vait dinner for me,and say they needn't mind puttin' any by, for it'll be cold afore I comein.'
In reply to this, the groom waxing very wroth, muttered a desire todamage somebody's person; but disappeared without carrying it intoexecution, slamming the door angrily after him, and wholly unheedingSam's affectionate request, that he would leave him a lock of his hairbefore he went.
Sam continued to sit on the large stone, meditating upon what was bestto be done, and revolving in his mind a plan for knocking at all thedoors within five miles of Bristol, taking them at a hundred and fiftyor two hundred a day, and endeavouring to find Miss Arabella by thatexpedient, when accident all of a sudden threw in his way what he mighthave sat there for a twelvemonth and yet not found without it.
Into the lane where he sat, there opened three or four garden gates,belonging to as many houses, which though detached from each other, wereonly separated by their gardens. As these were large and long, and wellplanted with trees, the houses were not only at some distance off, butthe greater part of them were nearly concealed from view. Sam wassitting with his eyes fixed upon the dust-heap outside the next gate tothat by which the groom had disappeared, profoundly turning over in hismind the difficulties of his present undertaking, when the gate opened,and a female servant came out into the lane to shake some bedsidecarpets.
Sam was so very busy with his own thoughts, that it is probable he wouldhave taken no more notice of the young woman than just raising his headand remarking that she had a very neat and pretty figure, if hisfeelings of gallantry had not been most strongly roused by observingthat she had no one to help her, and that the carpets seemed too heavyfor her single
strength. Mr. Weller was a gentleman of great gallantryin his own way, and he no sooner remarked this circumstance than hehastily rose from the large stone, and advanced towards her.
'My dear,' said Sam, sliding up with an air of great respect, 'you'llspile that wery pretty figure out o' all perportion if you shake themcarpets by yourself. Let me help you.'
The young lady, who had been coyly affecting not to know that agentleman was so near, turned round as Sam spoke--no doubt (indeed shesaid so, afterwards) to decline this offer from a perfect stranger--wheninstead of speaking, she started back, and uttered a half-suppressedscream. Sam was scarcely less staggered, for in the countenance of thewell-shaped female servant, he beheld the very features of hisvalentine, the pretty housemaid from Mr. Nupkins's.
'Wy, Mary, my dear!' said Sam.
'Lauk, Mr. Weller,' said Mary, 'how you do frighten one!'
Sam made no verbal answer to this complaint, nor can we precisely saywhat reply he did make. We merely know that after a short pause Marysaid, 'Lor, do adun, Mr. Weller!' and that his hat had fallen off a fewmoments before--from both of which tokens we should be disposed to inferthat one kiss, or more, had passed between the parties.
'Why, how did you come here?' said Mary, when the conversation to whichthis interruption had been offered, was resumed.
'O' course I came to look arter you, my darlin',' replied Mr. Weller;for once permitting his passion to get the better of his veracity.
'And how did you know I was here?' inquired Mary. 'Who could have toldyou that I took another service at Ipswich, and that they afterwardsmoved all the way here? Who _could _have told you that, Mr. Weller?'
'Ah, to be sure,' said Sam, with a cunning look, 'that's the pint. Whocould ha' told me?'
'It wasn't Mr. Muzzle, was it?' inquired Mary.
'Oh, no.' replied Sam, with a solemn shake of the head, 'it warn't him.'
'It must have been the cook,' said Mary.
'O' course it must,' said Sam.
'Well, I never heard the like of that!' exclaimed Mary.
'No more did I,' said Sam. 'But Mary, my dear'--here Sam's manner grewextremely affectionate--'Mary, my dear, I've got another affair in handas is wery pressin'. There's one o' my governor's friends--Mr. Winkle,you remember him?'
'Him in the green coat?' said Mary. 'Oh, yes, I remember him.'
'Well,' said Sam, 'he's in a horrid state o' love; reg'larly comfoozled,and done over vith it.'
'Lor!' interposed Mary.
'Yes,' said Sam; 'but that's nothin' if we could find out the young'ooman;' and here Sam, with many digressions upon the personal beauty ofMary, and the unspeakable tortures he had experienced since he last sawher, gave a faithful account of Mr. Winkle's present predicament.
'Well,' said Mary, 'I never did!'
'O' course not,' said Sam, 'and nobody never did, nor never villneither; and here am I a-walkin' about like the wandering Jew--asportin' character you have perhaps heerd on Mary, my dear, as vosalvays doin' a match agin' time, and never vent to sleep--looking arterthis here Miss Arabella Allen.'
'Miss who?' said Mary, in great astonishment.
'Miss Arabella Allen,' said Sam.
'Goodness gracious!' said Mary, pointing to the garden door which thesulky groom had locked after him. 'Why, it's that very house; she's beenliving there these six weeks. Their upper house-maid, which is lady's-maid too, told me all about it over the wash-house palin's before thefamily was out of bed, one mornin'.'
'Wot, the wery next door to you?' said Sam.
'The very next,' replied Mary.
Mr. Weller was so deeply overcome on receiving this intelligence that hefound it absolutely necessary to cling to his fair informant forsupport; and divers little love passages had passed between them, beforehe was sufficiently collected to return to the subject.
'Vell,' said Sam at length, 'if this don't beat cock-fightin' nothin'never vill, as the lord mayor said, ven the chief secretary o' stateproposed his missis's health arter dinner. That wery next house! Wy,I've got a message to her as I've been a-trying all day to deliver.'
'Ah,' said Mary, 'but you can't deliver it now, because she only walksin the garden in the evening, and then only for a very little time; shenever goes out, without the old lady.'
Sam ruminated for a few moments, and finally hit upon the following planof operations; that he should return just at dusk--the time at whichArabella invariably took her walk--and, being admitted by Mary into thegarden of the house to which she belonged, would contrive to scramble upthe wall, beneath the overhanging boughs of a large pear-tree, whichwould effectually screen him from observation; would there deliver hismessage, and arrange, if possible, an interview on behalf of Mr. Winklefor the ensuing evening at the same hour. Having made this arrangementwith great despatch, he assisted Mary in the long-deferred occupation ofshaking the carpets.
It is not half as innocent a thing as it looks, that shaking littlepieces of carpet--at least, there may be no great harm in the shaking,but the folding is a very insidious process. So long as the shakinglasts, and the two parties are kept the carpet's length apart, it is asinnocent an amusement as can well be devised; but when the foldingbegins, and the distance between them gets gradually lessened from onehalf its former length to a quarter, and then to an eighth, and then toa sixteenth, and then to a thirty-second, if the carpet be long enough,it becomes dangerous. We do not know, to a nicety, how many pieces ofcarpet were folded in this instance, but we can venture to state that asmany pieces as there were, so many times did Sam kiss the prettyhousemaid.
Mr. Weller regaled himself with moderation at the nearest tavern untilit was nearly dusk, and then returned to the lane without thethoroughfare. Having been admitted into the garden by Mary, and havingreceived from that lady sundry admonitions concerning the safety of hislimbs and neck, Sam mounted into the pear-tree, to wait until Arabellashould come into sight.
He waited so long without this anxiously-expected event occurring, thathe began to think it was not going to take place at all, when he heardlight footsteps upon the gravel, and immediately afterwards beheldArabella walking pensively down the garden. As soon as she came nearlybelow the tree, Sam began, by way of gently indicating his presence, tomake sundry diabolical noises similar to those which would probably benatural to a person of middle age who had been afflicted with acombination of inflammatory sore throat, croup, and whooping-cough, fromhis earliest infancy.
Upon this, the young lady cast a hurried glance towards the spot whencethe dreadful sounds proceeded; and her previous alarm being not at alldiminished when she saw a man among the branches, she would mostcertainly have decamped, and alarmed the house, had not fear fortunatelydeprived her of the power of moving, and caused her to sink down on agarden seat, which happened by good luck to be near at hand.
'She's a-goin' off,' soliloquised Sam in great perplexity. 'Wot a thingit is, as these here young creeturs will go a-faintin' avay just venthey oughtn't to. Here, young 'ooman, Miss Sawbones, Mrs. Vinkle,don't!'
Whether it was the magic of Mr. Winkle's name, or the coolness of theopen air, or some recollection of Mr. Weller's voice, that revivedArabella, matters not. She raised her head and languidly inquired,'Who's that, and what do you want?'
'Hush,' said Sam, swinging himself on to the wall, and crouching therein as small a compass as he could reduce himself to, 'only me, miss,only me.'
'Mr. Pickwick's servant!' said Arabella earnestly.
'The wery same, miss,' replied Sam. 'Here's Mr. Vinkle reg'larly sewedup vith desperation, miss.'
'Ah!' said Arabella, drawing nearer the wall.
'Ah, indeed,' said Sam. 'Ve thought ve should ha' been obliged tostrait-veskit him last night; he's been a-ravin' all day; and he says ifhe can't see you afore to-morrow night's over, he vishes he may besomethin' unpleasanted if he don't drownd hisself.'
'Oh, no, no, Mr. Weller!' said Arabella, clasping her hands.
'That's wot he says, miss,' replied Sam coolly. 'He
's a man of his word,and it's my opinion he'll do it, miss. He's heerd all about you from thesawbones in barnacles.'
'From my brother!' said Arabella, having some faint recognition of Sam'sdescription.
'I don't rightly know which is your brother, miss,' replied Sam. 'Is itthe dirtiest vun o' the two?'
'Yes, yes, Mr. Weller,' returned Arabella, 'go on. Make haste, pray.'
'Well, miss,' said Sam, 'he's heerd all about it from him; and it's thegov'nor's opinion that if you don't see him wery quick, the sawbones aswe've been a-speakin' on, 'ull get as much extra lead in his head as'llrayther damage the dewelopment o' the orgins if they ever put it inspirits artervards.'
'Oh, what can I do to prevent these dreadful quarrels!' exclaimedArabella.
'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. Mybrother is so unkind, so unreasonable! I know how strange my talkingthus to you may appear, Mr. Weller, but I am very, very unhappy--' andhere 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 onlyready but villin' to do anythin' as'll make matters agreeable; and ifchuckin' either o' them sawboneses out o' winder 'ull do it, I'm theman.' As Sam Weller said this, he tucked up his wristbands, at theimminent hazard of falling off the wall in so doing, to intimate hisreadiness to set to work immediately.
Flattering as these professions of good feeling were, Arabellaresolutely declined (most unaccountably, as Sam thought) to availherself 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 unwelcomearrival of a third party, she hurriedly gave him to understand, withmany professions of gratitude, that it was barely possible she might bein the garden an hour later, next evening. Sam understood this perfectlywell; and Arabella, bestowing upon him one of her sweetest smiles,tripped gracefully away, leaving Mr. Weller in a state of very greatadmiration of her charms, both personal and mental.
Having descended in safety from the wall, and not forgotten to devote afew moments to his own particular business in the same department, Mr.Weller then made the best of his way back to the Bush, where hisprolonged absence had occasioned much speculation and some alarm.
'We must be careful,' said Mr. Pickwick, after listening attentively toSam's tale, 'not for our sakes, but for that of the young lady. We mustbe 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 hereplied--
'_We_, Sir! I shall accompany you.'
'You!' said Mr. Winkle.
'I,' replied Mr. Pickwick mildly. 'In affording you this interview, theyoung lady has taken a natural, perhaps, but still a very imprudentstep. If I am present at the meeting--a mutual friend, who is old enoughto be the father of both parties--the voice of calumny can never beraised against her hereafter.'
Mr. Pickwick's eyes lightened with honest exultation at his ownforesight, as he spoke thus. Mr. Winkle was touched by this little traitof his delicate respect for the young _protegee _of his friend, and tookhis 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, ratherearlier than is absolutely necessary, in order that we may be in goodtime.'
Mr. Weller touched his hat, as an earnest of his obedience, and withdrewto make all needful preparations for the expedition.
The coach was punctual to the time appointed; and Mr. Weller, after dulyinstalling Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Winkle inside, took his seat on the boxby the driver. They alighted, as had been agreed on, about a quarter ofa mile from the place of rendezvous, and desiring the coachman to awaittheir return, proceeded the remaining distance on foot.
It was at this stage of the undertaking that Mr. Pickwick, with manysmiles and various other indications of great self-satisfaction,produced from one of his coat pockets a dark lantern, with which he hadspecially provided himself for the occasion, and the great mechanicalbeauty of which he proceeded to explain to Mr. Winkle, as they walkedalong, to the no small surprise of the few stragglers they met.
'I should have been the better for something of this kind, in my lastgarden 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 usefularter the candle's gone out, than wen it's alight.'
Mr. Pickwick appeared struck by Sam's remarks, for he put the lanterninto 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 broughtout the lantern, once or twice, as they groped their way along, andthrew a very brilliant little tunnel of light before them, about a footin diameter. It was very pretty to look at, but seemed to have theeffect of rendering surrounding objects rather darker than before.
At length they arrived at the large stone. Here Sam recommended hismaster and Mr. Winkle to seat themselves, while he reconnoitred, andascertained whether Mary was yet in waiting.
After an absence of five or ten minutes, Sam returned to say that thegate was opened, and all quiet. Following him with stealthy tread, Mr.Pickwick and Mr. Winkle soon found themselves in the garden. Hereeverybody said, 'Hush!' a good many times; and that being done, no oneseemed to have any very distinct apprehension of what was to be donenext.
'Is Miss Allen in the garden yet, Mary?' inquired Mr. Winkle, muchagitated.
'I don't know, sir,' replied the pretty housemaid. 'The best thing to bedone, 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 comesup the lane, while I watch at the other end of the garden. Goodnessgracious, what's that?'
'That 'ere blessed lantern 'ull be the death on us all,' exclaimed Sampeevishly. 'Take care wot you're a-doin' on, sir; you're a-sendin' ablaze o' light, right into the back parlour winder.'
'Dear me!' said Mr. Pickwick, turning hastily aside, 'I didn't mean todo 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,' saidSam. '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 sounintentionally produced. 'I never saw such a powerful reflector.'
'It'll be vun too powerful for us, if you keep blazin' avay in thatmanner, sir,' replied Sam, as Mr. Pickwick, after various unsuccessfulefforts, managed to close the slide. 'There's the young lady'sfootsteps. 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 makinga platform of his back. 'Step atop o' that 'ere flower-pot, Sir. Nowthen, 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 agentleman of his years and weight, contrived to get upon Sam's back; andSam gently raising himself up, and Mr. Pickwick holding on fast by thetop of the wall, while Mr. Winkle clasped him tight by the legs, theycontrived by these means to bring his
spectacles just above the level ofthe coping.
'My dear,' said Mr. Pickwick, looking over the wall, and catching sightof Arabella, on the other side, 'don't be frightened, my dear, it's onlyme.' 'Oh, pray go away, Mr. Pickwick,' said Arabella. 'Tell them all togo away. I am so dreadfully frightened. Dear, dear Mr. Pickwick, don'tstop 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 canconweniently 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 myyoung friend to see you in this clandestine way, if the situation inwhich you are placed had left him any alternative; and, lest theimpropriety of this step should cause you any uneasiness, my love, itmay be a satisfaction to you, to know that I am present. That's all, mydear.'
'Indeed, Mr. Pickwick, I am very much obliged to you for your kindnessand consideration,' replied Arabella, drying her tears with herhandkerchief. She would probably have said much more, had not Mr.Pickwick's head disappeared with great swiftness, in consequence of afalse 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 hasteand get the interview over, ran out into the lane to keep watch, withall the courage and ardour of youth. Mr. Winkle himself, inspired by theoccasion, was on the wall in a moment, merely pausing to request Sam tobe 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 aamiable Guy Fawkes! I never see such a fine creetur in my days. Blessedif I don't think his heart must ha' been born five-and-twenty year arterhis body, at least!'
Mr. Winkle stayed not to hear the encomium upon his friend. He haddropped from the wall; thrown himself at Arabella's feet; and by thistime was pleading the sincerity of his passion with an eloquence worthyeven of Mr. Pickwick himself.
While these things were going on in the open air, an elderly gentlemanof scientific attainments was seated in his library, two or three housesoff, writing a philosophical treatise, and ever and anon moistening hisclay and his labours with a glass of claret from a venerable-lookingbottle which stood by his side. In the agonies of composition, theelderly gentleman looked sometimes at the carpet, sometimes at theceiling, and sometimes at the wall; and when neither carpet, ceiling,nor wall afforded the requisite degree of inspiration, he looked out ofthe window.
In one of these pauses of invention, the scientific gentleman was gazingabstractedly on the thick darkness outside, when he was very muchsurprised by observing a most brilliant light glide through the air, ata short distance above the ground, and almost instantaneously vanish.After a short time the phenomenon was repeated, not once or twice, butseveral times; at last the scientific gentleman, laying down his pen,began to consider to what natural causes these appearances were to beassigned.
They were not meteors; they were too low. They were not glow-worms; theywere too high. They were not will-o'-the-wisps; they were not fireflies;they were not fireworks. What could they be? Some extraordinary andwonderful phenomenon of nature, which no philosopher had ever seenbefore; something which it had been reserved for him alone to discover,and which he should immortalise his name by chronicling for the benefitof posterity. Full of this idea, the scientific gentleman seized his penagain, and committed to paper sundry notes of these unparalleledappearances, with the date, day, hour, minute, and precise second atwhich they were visible: all of which were to form the data of avoluminous treatise of great research and deep learning, which shouldastonish all the atmospherical wiseacres that ever drew breath in anypart of the civilised globe.
He threw himself back in his easy-chair, wrapped in contemplations ofhis future greatness. The mysterious light appeared more brilliantlythan before, dancing, to all appearance, up and down the lane, crossingfrom side to side, and moving in an orbit as eccentric as cometsthemselves.
The scientific gentleman was a bachelor. He had no wife to call in andastonish, so he rang the bell for his servant.
'Pruffle,' said the scientific gentleman, 'there is something veryextraordinary in the air to-night? Did you see that?' said thescientific gentleman, pointing out of the window, as the light againbecame 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 thecause for those lights, now?'
The scientific gentleman smilingly anticipated Pruffle's reply that hecould assign no cause for them at all. Pruffle meditated.
'I should say it was thieves, Sir,' said Pruffle at length.
'You're a fool, and may go downstairs,' said the scientific gentleman.
'Thank you, Sir,' said Pruffle. And down he went.
But the scientific gentleman could not rest under the idea of theingenious treatise he had projected being lost to the world, which mustinevitably be the case if the speculation of the ingenious Mr. Prufflewere not stifled in its birth. He put on his hat and walked quickly downthe garden, determined to investigate the matter to the very bottom.
Now, shortly before the scientific gentleman walked out into the garden,Mr. Pickwick had run down the lane as fast as he could, to convey afalse alarm that somebody was coming that way; occasionally drawing backthe slide of the dark lantern to keep himself from the ditch. The alarmwas no sooner given, than Mr. Winkle scrambled back over the wall, andArabella ran into the house; the garden gate was shut, and the threeadventurers were making the best of their way down the lane, when theywere startled by the scientific gentleman unlocking his garden gate.
'Hold hard,' whispered Sam, who was, of course, the first of the party.'Show a light for just vun second, Sir.'
Mr. Pickwick did as he was desired, and Sam, seeing a man's head peepingout very cautiously within half a yard of his own, gave it a gentle tapwith his clenched fist, which knocked it, with a hollow sound, againstthe gate. Having performed this feat with great suddenness anddexterity, Mr. Weller caught Mr. Pickwick up on his back, and followedMr. Winkle down the lane at a pace which, considering the burden hecarried, was perfectly astonishing.
'Have you got your vind back agin, Sir,' inquired Sam, when they hadreached the end.
'Quite. Quite, now,' replied Mr. Pickwick.
'Then come along, Sir,' said Sam, setting his master on his feet again.'Come betveen us, sir. Not half a mile to run. Think you're vinnin' acup, sir. Now for it.'
Thus encouraged, Mr. Pickwick made the very best use of his legs. It maybe confidently stated that a pair of black gaiters never got over theground in better style than did those of Mr. Pickwick on this memorableoccasion.
The coach was waiting, the horses were fresh, the roads were good, andthe driver was willing. The whole party arrived in safety at the Bushbefore Mr. Pickwick had recovered his breath.
'In with you at once, sir,' said Sam, as he helped his master out.'Don't stop a second in the street, arter that 'ere exercise. Beg yourpardon, sir,' continued Sam, touching his hat as Mr. Winkle descended,'hope there warn't a priory 'tachment, sir?'
Mr. Winkle grasped his humble friend by the hand, and whispered in hisear, 'It's all right, Sam; quite right.' Upon which Mr. Weller struckthree distinct blows upon his nose in token of intelligence, smiled,winked, and proceeded to put the steps up, with a countenance expressiveof lively satisfaction.
As to the scientific gentleman, he demonstrated, in a masterly treatise,that these wonderful lights were the effect of electricity; and clearlyproved the same by detailing how a flash of fire
danced before his eyeswhen he put his head out of the gate, and how he received a shock whichstunned him for a quarter of an hour afterwards; which demonstrationdelighted all the scientific associations beyond measure, and caused himto be considered a light of science ever afterwards.