"I made an observation to my friend, sir," replied Mr.Pickwick, always ready to enter into conversation."I wondered at what house the Bath coach put up.Perhaps you can inform me.""Are you going to Bath?" said the strange man.
"I am, sir," replied Mr.Pickwick.
"And those other gentleman?"
"They are going also," said Mr.Pickwick.
"Not inside--I'll be damned if you're going inside," said the strange man.
"Not all of us," said Mr.Pickwick.
"No, not all of you," said the strange man emphatically."I've taken two places.If they try to squeeze six people into an infernal box that only holds four, I'll take a post-chaise and bring an action.I've paid my fare.It won't do; I told the clerk when I took my places that it wouldn't do.I know these things have been done.I know they are done every day;but I never was done, and I never will be.Those who know me best, best know it; crush me!" Here the fierce gentleman rang the bell with great violence, and told the waiter he'd better bring the toast in five seconds, or he'd know the reason why.
"My good sir," said Mr.Pickwick, "you will allow me to observe that this is a very unnecessary display of excitement.I have only taken places inside for two.""I am glad to hear it," said the fierce man."I withdraw my expressions.
I tender an apology.There's my card.Give me your acquaintance.""With great pleasure, sir," replied Mr.Pickwick."We are to be fellow travellers, and I hope we shall find each other's society mutually agreeable.""I hope we shall," said the fierce gentleman."I know we shall.I like your looks; they please me.Gentlemen, your hands and names.Know me."Of course, an interchange of friendly salutations followed this gracious speech; and the fierce gentleman immediately proceeded to inform the friends, in the same short, abrupt, jerking sentences, that his name was Dowler;that he was going to Bath on pleasure; that he was formerly in the army;that he had now set up in business as a gentleman; that he lived upon the profits; and that the individual for whom the second place was taken, was a personage no less illustrious than Mrs.Dowler his lady wife.
"She's a fine woman," said Mr.Dowler."I am proud of her.I have reason.""I hope I shall have the pleasure of judging," said Mr.Pickwick, with a smile.
"You shall," replied Dowler."She shall know you.She shall esteem you.
I courted her under singular circumstances.I won her through a rash vow.
Thus.I saw her; I loved her; I proposed; she refused me.--`You love another?'--`Spare my blushes.'--`I know him.'--`You do.'--`Very good; if he remains here, I'll skin him.'""Lord bless me!" exclaimed Mr.Pickwick, involuntarily.
"Did you skin the gentleman, sir?" inquired Mr.Winkle, with a very pale face.
"I wrote him a note.I said it was a painful thing.And so it was.""Certainly," interposed Mr.Winkle.
"I said I had pledged my word as a gentleman to skin him.My character was at stake.I had no alternative.As an officer in His Majesty's service, I was bound to skin him.I regretted the necessity, but it must be done.
He was open to conviction.He saw that the rules of the service were imperative.
He fled.I married her.Here's the coach.That's her head."As Mr.Dowler concluded, he pointed to a stage which had just driven up, from the open window of which a rather pretty face in a bright blue bonnet was looking among the crowd on the pavement: most probably for the rash man himself.Mr.Dowler paid his bill and hurried out with his travelling-cap, coat, and cloak; and Mr.Pickwick and his friends followed to secure their places.
Mr.Tupman and Mr.Snodgrass had seated themselves at the back part of the coach; Mr.Winkle had got inside; and Mr.Pickwick was preparing to follow him, when Sam Weller came up to his master, and whispering in his ear, begged to speak to him, with an air of the deepest mystery.
"Well, Sam," said Mr.Pickwick, "what's the matter now?""Here's rayther a rum go, sir," replied Sam.
"What?" inquired Mr.Pickwick.
"This here, sir," rejoined Sam."I'm wery much afeerd, sir, that the proprieator o' this here coach is a playin' some imperence vith us.""How is that, Sam?" said Mr.Pickwick; "aren't the names down on the way-bill?""The names is not only down on the vay-bill, sir," replied Sam, "but they've painted vun on 'em up, on the door o' the coach." As Sam spoke, he pointed to that part of the coach door on which the proprietor's name usually appears; and there, sure enough, in gilt letters of a goodly size, was the magic name of P ICKWICK !
"Dear me," exclaimed Mr.Pickwick, quite staggered by the coincidence;"what a very extraordinary thing!"
"Yes, but that ain't all," said Sam, again directing his master's attention to the coach door; "not content vith writin' up Pickwick, they puts `Moses'
afore it, vich I call addin' insult to injury, as the parrot said ven they not only took him from his native land, but made him talk the English langwidge arterwards.""It's odd enough certainly, Sam," said Mr.Pickwick; "but if we stand talking here, we shall lose our places.""Wot, ain't nothin' to be done in consequence, sir?" exclaimed Sam, perfectly aghast at the coolness with which Mr.Pickwick appeared to ensconce himself inside.
"Done!" said Mr.Pickwick."What should be done?""Ain't nobody to be whopped for takin' this here liberty, sir?" said Mr.Weller, who had expected that at least he would have been commissioned to challenge the guard and coachman to a pugilistic encounter on the spot.
"Certainly not," replied Mr.Pickwick eagerly; "not on any account.
Jump up to your seat directly."
