COMPRISING THE FINAL EXIT OF Mr. JINGLEAND JOB TROTTER, WITH A GREAT MORNINGOF BUSINESS IN GRAY’S INN SQUARE―CONCLUDING WITH A DOUBLE KNOCK AT Mr.

　　PERKER’S DOORhen Arabella, after some gentle preparation andmany assurances that there was not the leastoccasion for being low-spirited, was at length madeacquainted by Mr. Pickwick with the unsatisfactory result of hisvisit to Birmingham, she burst into tears, and sobbing aloud,lamented in moving terms that she should have been the unhappycause of any estrangement between a father and his son.

　　‘My dear girl,’ said Mr. Pickwick kindly, ‘it is no fault of yours. Itwas impossible to foresee that the old gentleman would be sostrongly prepossessed against his son’s marriage, you know. I amsure,’ added Mr. Pickwick, glancing at her pretty face, ‘he canhave very little idea of the pleasure he denies himself.’

　　‘Oh, my dear Mr. Pickwick,’ said Arabella, ‘what shall we do, ifhe continues to be angry with us?’

　　‘Why, wait patiently, my dear, until he thinks better of it,’

　　replied Mr. Pickwick cheerfully.

　　‘But, dear Mr. Pickwick, what is to become of Nathaniel if hisfather withdraws his assistance?’ urged Arabella.

　　‘In that case, my love,’ rejoined Mr. Pickwick, ‘I will venture toprophesy that he will find some other friend who will not bebackward in helping him to start in the world.’

　　The significance of this reply was not so well disguised by Mr.

　　Pickwick but that Arabella understood it. So, throwing her armsround his neck, and kissing him affectionately, she sobbed louderthan before.

　　‘Come, come,’ said Mr. Pickwick taking her hand, ‘we will waithere a few days longer, and see whether he writes or takes anyother notice of your husband’s communication. If not, I havethought of half a dozen plans, any one of which would make youhappy at once. There, my dear, there!’

　　With these words, Mr. Pickwick gently pressed Arabella’s hand,and bade her dry her eyes, and not distress her husband. Uponwhich, Arabella, who was one of the best little creatures alive, puther handkerchief in her reticule, and by the time Mr. Winklejoined them, exhibited in full lustre the same beaming smiles andsparkling eyes that had originally captivated him.

　　‘This is a distressing predicament for these young people,’

　　thought Mr. Pickwick, as he dressed himself next morning. ‘I’llwalk up to Perker’s, and consult him about the matter.’

　　As Mr. Pickwick was further prompted to betake himself toGray’s Inn Square by an anxious desire to come to a pecuniarysettlement with the kind-hearted little attorney without furtherdelay, he made a hurried breakfast, and executed his intention sospeedily, that ten o’clock had not struck when he reached Gray’sInn.

　　It still wanted ten minutes to the hour when he had ascendedthe staircase on which Perker’s chambers were. The clerks hadnot arrived yet, and he beguiled the time by looking out of thestaircase window. The healthy light of a fine October morningmade even the dingy old houses brighten up a little; some of thedusty windows actually looking almost cheerful as the sun’s raysgleamed upon them. Clerk after clerk hastened into the square byone or other of the entrances, and looking up at the Hall clock,accelerated or decreased his rate of walking according to the timeat which his office hours nominally commenced; the half-past nineo’clock people suddenly becoming very brisk, and the ten o’clockgentlemen falling into a pace of most aristocratic slowness. Theclock struck ten, and clerks poured in faster than ever, each one ina greater perspiration than his predecessor. The noise ofunlocking and opening doors echoed and re-echoed on every side;heads appeared as if by magic in every window; the porters tookup their stations for the day; the slipshod laundresses hurried off;the postman ran from house to house; and the whole legal hivewas in a bustle.

　　‘You’re early, Mr. Pickwick,’ said a voice behind him.

　　‘Ah, Mr. Lowten,’ replied that gentleman, looking round, andrecognising his old acquaintance.

　　‘Precious warm walking, isn’t it?’ said Lowten, drawing aBramah key from his pocket, with a small plug therein, to keep thedust out.

　　‘You appear to feel it so,’ rejoined Mr. Pickwick, smiling at theclerk, who was literally red-hot.

　　‘I’ve come along, rather, I can tell you,’ replied Lowten. ‘It wentthe half hour as I came through the Polygon. I’m here before him,though, so I don’t mind.’

　　Comforting himself with this reflection, Mr. Lowten extractedthe plug from the door-key; having opened the door, repluggedand repocketed his Bramah, and picked up the letters which thepostman had dropped through the box, he ushered Mr. Pickwickinto the office. Here, in the twinkling of an eye, he divested himselfof his coat, put on a threadbare garment, which he took out of adesk, hung up his hat, pulled forth a few sheets of cartridge andblotting-paper in alternate layers, and, sticking a pen behind hisear, rubbed his hands with an air of great satisfaction.

　　‘There, you see, Mr. Pickwick,’ he said, ‘now I’m complete. I’vegot my office coat on, and my pad out, and let him come as soon ashe likes. You haven’t got a pinch of snuff about you, have you?’

　　‘No, I have not,’ replied Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘I’m sorry for it,’ said Lowten. ‘Never mind. I’ll run outpresently, and get a bottle of soda. Don’t I look rather queer aboutthe eyes, Mr. Pickwick?’

　　The individual appealed to, surveyed Mr. Lowten’s eyes from adistance, and expressed his opinion that no unusual queernesswas perceptible in those features.

　　‘I’m glad of it,’ said Lowten. ‘We were keeping it up prettytolerably at the Stump last night, and I’m rather out of sorts thismorning. Perker’s been about that business of yours, by the bye.’

　　‘What business?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick. ‘Mrs. Bardell’s costs?’

　　‘No, I don’t mean that,’ replied Mr. Lowten. ‘About getting thatcustomer that we paid the ten shillings in the pound to the bill-discounter for, on your account―to get him out of the Fleet, youknow―about getting him to Demerara.’

　　‘Oh, Mr. Jingle,’ said Mr. Pickwick hastily. ‘Yes. Well?’

　　‘Well, it’s all arranged,’ said Lowten, mending his pen. ‘Theagent at Liverpool said he had been obliged to you many timeswhen you were in business, and he would be glad to take him onyour recommendation.’

　　‘That’s well,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘I am delighted to hear it.’

　　‘But I say,’ resumed Lowten, scraping the back of the penpreparatory to making a fresh split, ‘what a soft chap that other is!’

　　‘Which other?’

　　‘Why, that servant, or friend, or whatever he is; you know,Trotter.’

　　‘Ah!’ said Mr. Pickwick, with a smile. ‘I always thought him thereverse.’

　　‘Well, and so did I, from what little I saw of him,’ repliedLowten, ‘it only shows how one may be deceived. What do youthink of his going to Demerara, too?’

　　‘What! And giving up what was offered him here!’ exclaimedMr. Pickwick.

　　‘Treating Perker’s offer of eighteen bob a week, and a rise if hebehaved himself, like dirt,’ replied Lowten. ‘He said he must goalong with the other one, and so they persuaded Perker to writeagain, and they’ve got him something on the same estate; not nearso good, Perker says, as a convict would get in New South Wales, ifhe appeared at his trial in a new suit of clothes.’

　　‘Foolish fellow,’ said Mr. Pickwick, with glistening eyes.

　　‘Foolish fellow.’

　　‘Oh, it’s worse than foolish; it’s downright sneaking, you know,’

　　replied Lowten, nibbing the pen with a contemptuous face. ‘Hesays that he’s the only friend he ever had, and he’s attached tohim, and all that. Friendship’s a very good thing in its way―weare all very friendly and comfortable at the Stump, for instance,over our grog, where every man pays for himself; but damnhurting yourself for anybody else, you know! No man should havemore than two attachments―the first, to number one, and thesecond to the ladies; that’s what I say―ha! ha!’ Mr. Lowtenconcluded with a loud laugh, half in jocularity, and half inderision, which was prematurely cut short by the sound ofPerker’s footsteps on the stairs, at the first approach of which, hevaulted on his stool with an agility most remarkable, and wroteintensely.

　　The greeting between Mr. Pickwick and his professionaladviser was warm and cordial; the client was scarcely ensconcedin the attorney’s arm-chair, however, when a knock was heard atthe door, and a voice inquired whether Mr. Perker was within.

　　‘Hark!’ said Perker, ‘that’s one of our vagabond friends―Jinglehimself, my dear sir. Will you see him?’

　　‘What do you think?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick, hesitating.

　　‘Yes, I think you had better. Here, you sir, what’s your name,walk in, will you?’

　　In compliance with this unceremonious invitation, Jingle andJob walked into the room, but, seeing Mr. Pickwick, stopped shortin some confusion. ‘Well,’ said Perker, ‘don’t you know thatgentleman?’

　　‘Good reason to,’ replied Mr. Jingle, stepping forward. ‘Mr.

　　Pickwick―deepest obligations―life preserver―made a man ofme―you shall never repent it, sir.’

　　‘I am happy to hear you say so,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘You lookmuch better.’

　　‘Thanks to you, sir―great change―Majesty’s Fleet―unwholesome place―very,’ said Jingle, shaking his head. He wasdecently and cleanly dressed, and so was Job, who stood boltupright behind him, staring at Mr. Pickwick with a visage of iron.

　　‘When do they go to Liverpool?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick, halfaside to Perker.

　　‘This evening, sir, at seven o’clock,’ said Job, taking one stepforward. ‘By the heavy coach from the city, sir.’

　　‘Are your places taken?’

　　‘They are, sir,’ replied Job.

　　‘You have fully made up your mind to go?’

　　‘I have sir,’ answered Job.

　　‘With regard to such an outfit as was indispensable for Jingle,’

　　said Perker, addressing Mr. Pickwick aloud. ‘I have taken uponmyself to make an arrangement for the deduction of a small sumfrom his quarterly salary, which, being made only for one year,and regularly remitted, will provide for that expense. I entirelydisapprove of your doing anything for him, my dear sir, which isnot dependent on his own exertions and good conduct.’

　　‘Certainly,’ interposed Jingle, with great firmness. ‘Clearhead―man of the world―quite right―perfectly.’

　　‘By compounding with his creditor, releasing his clothes fromthe pawnbroker’s, relieving him in prison, and paying for hispassage,’ continued Perker, without noticing Jingle’s observation,‘you have already lost upwards of fifty pounds.’

　　‘Not lost,’ said Jingle hastily, ‘Pay it all―stick to business―cashup―every farthing. Yellow fever, perhaps―can’t help that―ifnot―’ Here Mr. Jingle paused, and striking the crown of his hatwith great violence, passed his hand over his eyes, and sat down.

　　‘He means to say,’ said Job, advancing a few paces, ‘that if he isnot carried off by the fever, he will pay the money back again. If helives, he will, Mr. Pickwick. I will see it done. I know he will, sir,’

　　said Job, with energy. ‘I could undertake to swear it.’

　　‘Well, well,’ said Mr. Pickwick, who had been bestowing a scoreor two of frowns upon Perker, to stop his summary of benefitsconferred, which the little attorney obstinately disregarded, ‘youmust be careful not to play any more desperate cricket matches,Mr. Jingle, or to renew your acquaintance with Sir Thomas Blazo,and I have little doubt of your preserving your health.’

　　Mr. Jingle smiled at this sally, but looked rather foolishnotwithstanding; so Mr. Pickwick changed the subject by saying―‘You don’t happen to know, do you, what has become ofanother friend of yours―a more humble one, whom I saw atRochester?’

　　‘Dismal Jemmy?’ inquired Jingle.

　　‘Yes.’

　　Jingle shook his head.

　　‘Clever rascal―queer fellow, hoaxing genius―Job’s brother.’

　　‘Job’s brother!’ exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. ‘Well, now I look athim closely, there is a likeness.’

　　‘We were always considered like each other, sir,’ said Job, witha cunning look just lurking in the corners of his eyes, ‘only I wasreally of a serious nature, and he never was. He emigrated toAmerica, sir, in consequence of being too much sought after here,to be comfortable; and has never been heard of since.’

　　‘That accounts for my not having received the “page from theromance of real life,” which he promised me one morning when heappeared to be contemplating suicide on Rochester Bridge, Isuppose,’ said Mr. Pickwick, smiling. ‘I need not inquire whetherhis dismal behaviour was natural or assumed.’

　　‘He could assume anything, sir,’ said Job. ‘You may consideryourself very fortunate in having escaped him so easily. Onintimate terms he would have been even a more dangerousacquaintance than―’ Job looked at Jingle, hesitated, and finallyadded, ‘than―than-myself even.’

　　‘A hopeful family yours, Mr. Trotter,’ said Perker, sealing aletter which he had just finished writing.

　　‘Yes, sir,’ replied Job. ‘Very much so.’

　　‘Well,’ said the little man, laughing, ‘I hope you are going todisgrace it. Deliver this letter to the agent when you reachLiverpool, and let me advise you, gentlemen, not to be tooknowing in the West Indies. If you throw away this chance, youwill both richly deserve to be hanged, as I sincerely trust you willbe. And now you had better leave Mr. Pickwick and me alone, forwe have other matters to talk over, and time is precious.’ AsPerker said this, he looked towards the door, with an evidentdesire to render the leave-taking as brief as possible.

　　It was brief enough on Mr. Jingle’s part. He thanked the littleattorney in a few hurried words for the kindness and promptitudewith which he had rendered his assistance, and, turning to hisbenefactor, stood for a few seconds as if irresolute what to say orhow to act. Job Trotter relieved hi............