The Pickwick Papers
old crusted port--that at one-and-nine--with another of the celebrated
East India sherry at fourteen-pence, which were all produced in honour
of the lodger, and afforded unlimited satisfaction to everybody. After
great consternation had been excited in the mind of Mrs. Cluppins, by an
attempt on the part of Tommy to recount how he had been cross-examined
regarding the cupboard then in action (which was fortunately nipped in
the bud by his imbibing half a glass of the old crusted ‘the wrong way,’
and thereby endangering his life for some seconds), the party walked
forth in quest of a Hampstead stage. This was soon found, and in a
couple of hours they all arrived safely in the Spaniards Tea-gardens,
where the luckless Mr. Raddle’s very first act nearly occasioned his
good lady a relapse; it being neither more nor less than to order tea
for seven, whereas (as the ladies one and all remarked), what could have
been easier than for Tommy to have drank out of anybody’s cup--or
everybody’s, if that was all--when the waiter wasn’t looking, which
would have saved one head of tea, and the tea just as good!
However, there was no help for it, and the tea-tray came, with seven
cups and saucers, and bread-and-butter on the same scale. Mrs. Bardell
was unanimously voted into the chair, and Mrs. Rogers being stationed on
her right hand, and Mrs. Raddle on her left, the meal proceeded with
great merriment and success.
‘How sweet the country is, to be sure!’ sighed Mrs. Rogers; ‘I almost
wish I lived in it always.’
‘Oh, you wouldn’t like that, ma’am,’ replied Mrs. Bardell, rather
hastily; for it was not at all advisable, with reference to the
lodgings, to encourage such notions; ‘you wouldn’t like it, ma’am.’
‘Oh! I should think you was a deal too lively and sought after, to be
content with the country, ma’am,’ said little Mrs. Cluppins.
‘Perhaps I am, ma’am. Perhaps I am,’ sighed the first-floor lodger.
‘For lone people as have got nobody to care for them, or take care of
them, or as have been hurt in their mind, or that kind of thing,’
observed Mr. Raddle, plucking up a little cheerfulness, and looking
round, ‘the country is all very well. The country for a wounded spirit,
they say.’
Now, of all things in the world that the unfortunate man could have
said, any would have been preferable to this. Of course Mrs. Bardell
burst into tears, and requested to be led from the table instantly; upon
which the affectionate child began to cry too, most dismally.
‘Would anybody believe, ma’am,’ exclaimed Mrs. Raddle, turning fiercely
to the first-floor lodger, ‘that a woman could be married to such a
unmanly creetur, which can tamper with a woman’s feelings as he does,
every hour in the day, ma’am?’
‘My dear,’ remonstrated Mr. Raddle, ‘I didn’t mean anything, my dear.’
‘You didn’t mean!’ repeated Mrs. Raddle, with great scorn and contempt.
‘Go away. I can’t bear the sight on you, you brute.’
‘You must not flurry yourself, Mary Ann,’ interposed Mrs. Cluppins. ‘You
really must consider yourself, my dear, which you never do. Now go away,
Raddle, there’s a good soul, or you’ll only aggravate her.’
‘You had better take your tea by yourself, Sir, indeed,’ said Mrs.
Rogers, again applying the smelling-bottle.
Mrs. Sanders, who, according to custom, was very busy with the bread-
and-butter, expressed the same opinion, and Mr. Raddle quietly retired.
After this, there was a great hoisting up of Master Bardell, who was
rather a large size for hugging, into his mother’s arms, in which
operation he got his boots in the tea-board, and occasioned some
confusion among the cups and saucers. But that description of fainting
fits, which is contagious among ladies, seldom lasts long; so when he
had been well kissed, and a little cried over, Mrs. Bardell recovered,
set him down again, wondering how she could have been so foolish, and
poured out some more tea.
It was at this moment, that the sound of approaching wheels was heard,
and that the ladies, looking up, saw a hackney-coach stop at the garden
gate.
‘More company!’ said Mrs. Sanders.
‘It’s a gentleman,’ said Mrs. Raddle.
‘Well, if it ain’t Mr. Jackson, the young man from Dodson and Fogg’s!’
cried Mrs. Bardell. ‘Why, gracious! Surely Mr. Pickwick can’t have paid
the damages.’
‘Or hoffered marriage!’ said Mrs. Cluppins.
‘Dear me, how slow the gentleman is,’ exclaimed Mrs. Rogers. ‘Why
doesn’t he make haste!’
As the lady spoke these words, Mr. Jackson turned from the coach where
he had been addressing some observations to a shabby man in black
leggings, who had just emerged from the vehicle with a thick ash stick
in his hand, and made his way to the place where the ladies were seated;
winding his hair round the brim of his hat, as he came along.
‘Is anything the matter? Has anything taken place, Mr. Jackson?’ said
Mrs. Bardell eagerly.
‘Nothing whatever, ma’am,’ replied Mr. Jackson. ‘How de do, ladies? I
have to ask pardon, ladies, for intruding--but the law, ladies--the
law.’ With this apology Mr. Jackson smiled, made a comprehensive bow,
and gave his hair another wind. Mrs. Rogers whispered Mrs. Raddle that
he was really an elegant young man.
‘I called in Goswell Street,’ resumed Mr. Jackson, ‘and hearing that you
were here, from the slavey, took a coach and came on. Our people want
you down in the city directly, Mrs. Bardell.’
‘Lor!’ ejaculated that lady, starting at the sudden nature of the
communication.
‘Yes,’ said Mr. Jackson, biting his lip. ‘It’s very important and
pressing business, which can’t be postponed on any account. Indeed,
Dodson expressly said so to me, and so did Fogg. I’ve kept the coach on
purpose for you to go back in.’
‘How very strange!’ exclaimed Mrs. Bardell.
The ladies agreed that it _was _ very strange, but were unanimously of
opinion that it must be very important, or Dodson & Fogg would never
have sent; and further, that the business being urgent, she ought to
repair to Dodson & Fogg’s without any delay.
There was a certain degree of pride and importance about being wanted by
one’s lawyers in such a monstrous hurry, that was by no means
displeasing to Mrs. Bardell, especially as it might be reasonably
supposed to enhance her consequence in the eyes of the first-floor
lodger. She simpered a little, affected extreme vexation and hesitation,
and at last arrived at the conclusion that she supposed she must go.
‘But won’t you refresh yourself after your walk, Mr. Jackson?’ said Mrs.
Bardell persuasively.
‘Why, really there ain’t much time to lose,’ replied Jackson; ‘and I’ve
got a friend here,’ he continued, looking towards the man with the ash
stick.
‘Oh, ask your friend to come here, Sir,’ said Mrs. Bardell. ‘Pray ask
your friend here, Sir.’
‘Why, thank’ee, I’d rather not,’ said Mr. Jackson, with some
embarrassment of manner. ‘He’s not much used to ladies’ society, and it
makes him bashful. If you’ll order the waiter to deliver him anything
short, he won’t drink it off at once, won’t he!--only try him!’ Mr.
Jackson’s fingers wandered playfully round his nose at this portion of
his discourse, to warn his hearers that he was speaking ironically.
The waiter was at once despatched to the bashful gentleman, and the
bashful gentleman took something; Mr. Jackson also took something, and
the ladies took something, for hospitality’s sake. Mr. Jackson then said
he was afraid it was time to go; upon which, Mrs. Sanders, Mrs.
Cluppins, and Tommy (who it was arranged should accompany Mrs. Bardell,
leaving the others to Mr. Raddle’s protection), got into the coach.
‘Isaac,’ said Jackson, as Mrs. Bardell prepared to get in, looking up at
the man with the ash stick, who was seated on the box, smoking a cigar.
‘Well?’
‘This is Mrs. Bardell.’
‘Oh, I know’d that long ago,’ said the man.
Mrs. Bardell got in, Mr. Jackson got in after her, and away they drove.
Mrs. Bardell could not help ruminating on what Mr. Jackson’s friend had
said. Shrewd creatures, those lawyers. Lord bless us, how they find
people out!
‘Sad thing about these costs of our people’s, ain’t it,’ said Jackson,
when Mrs. Cluppins and Mrs. Sanders had fallen asleep; ‘your bill of
costs, I mean.’
‘I’m very sorry they can’t get them,’ replied Mrs. Bardell. ‘But if you
law gentlemen do these things on speculation, why you must get a loss
now and then, you know.’
‘You gave them a _cognovit _for the amount of your costs, after the
trial, I’m told!’ said Jackson.
‘Yes. Just as a matter of form,’ replied Mrs. Bardell.
‘Certainly,’ replied Jackson drily. ‘Quite a matter of form. Quite.’
On they drove, and Mrs. Bardell fell asleep. She was awakened, after
some time, by the stopping of the coach.
‘Bless us!’ said the lady. ‘Are we at Freeman’s Court?’
‘We’re not going quite so far,’ replied Jackson. ‘Have the goodness to
step out.’
Mrs. Bardell, not yet thoroughly awake, complied. It was a curious
place: a large wall, with a gate in the middle, and a gas-light burning
inside.
‘Now, ladies,’ cried the man with the ash stick, looking into the coach,
and shaking Mrs. Sanders to wake her, ‘Come!’ Rousing her friend, Mrs.
Sanders alighted. Mrs. Bardell, leaning on Jackson’s arm, and leading
Tommy by the hand, had already entered the porch. They followed.
The room they turned into was even more odd-looking than the porch. Such
a number of men standing about! And they stared so!
‘What place is this?’ inquired Mrs. Bardell, pausing.
‘Only one of our public offices,’ replied Jackson, hurrying her through
a door, and looking round to see that the other women were following.
‘Look sharp, Isaac!’
‘Safe and sound,’ replied the man with the ash stick. The door swung
heavily after them, and they descended a small flight of steps.
‘Here we are at last. All right and tight, Mrs. Bardell!’ said Jackson,
looking exultingly round.
‘What do you mean?’ said Mrs. Bardell, with a palpitating heart.
‘Just this,’ replied Jackson, drawing her a little on one side; ‘don’t
be frightened, Mrs. Bardell. There never was a more delicate man than
Dodson, ma’am, or a more humane man than Fogg. It was their duty in the
way of business, to take you in execution for them costs; but they were
anxious to spare your feelings as much as they could. What a comfort it
must be, to you, to think how it’s been done! This is the Fleet, ma’am.
Wish you good-night, Mrs. Bardell. Good-night, Tommy!’
As Jackson hurried away in company with the man with the ash stick
another man, with a key in his hand, who had been looking on, led the
bewildered female to a second short flight of steps leading to a
doorway. Mrs. Bardell screamed violently; Tommy roared; Mrs. Cluppins
shrunk within herself; and Mrs. Sanders made off, without more ado. For
there stood the injured Mr. Pickwick, taking his nightly allowance of
air; and beside him leant Samuel Weller, who, seeing Mrs. Bardell, took
his hat off with mock reverence, while his master turned indignantly on
his heel.
‘Don’t bother the woman,’ said the turnkey to Weller; ‘she’s just come
in.’
‘A prisoner!’ said Sam, quickly replacing his hat. ‘Who’s the
plaintives? What for? Speak up, old feller.’
‘Dodson and Fogg,’ replied the man; ‘execution on _cognovit _for costs.’
‘Here, Job, Job!’ shouted Sam, dashing into the passage. ‘Run to Mr.
Perker’s, Job. I want him directly. I see some good in this. Here’s a
game. Hooray! vere’s the gov’nor?’
But there was no reply to these inquiries, for Job had started furiously
off, the instant he received his commission, and Mrs. Bardell had
fainted in real downright earnest.
CHAPTER XLVII. IS CHIEFLY DEVOTED TO MATTERS OF BUSINESS, AND THE
TEMPORAL ADVANTAGE OF DODSON AND FOGG--MR. WINKLE REAPPEARS UNDER