第99章

"I hope not," said Mr.Pott, actuated, as he spoke, by a wish that his visitor would choke himself with the morsel of dry toast which he was raising to his lips at the moment: and so terminate his stay effectually.

"I hope not."

"You are very good," said Mr.Winkle; "but a letter has been received from Mr.Pickwick-so I learn by a note from Mr.Tupman, which was brought up to my bed-room door, this morning--in which he requests us to join him at Bury to-day; and we are to leave by the coach at noon.""But you will come back?" said Mrs.Pott.

"Oh, certainly," replied Mr.Winkle.

"You are quite sure?" said Mrs.Pott, stealing a tender look at her visitor.

"Quite," responded Mr.Winkle.

The breakfast passed off in silence, for each member of the party was brooding over his, or her, own personal grievances.Mrs.Pott was regretting the loss of a beau; Mr.Pott his rash pledge to horsewhip the Independent;Mr.Winkle his having innocently placed himself in so awkward a situation.

Noon approached, and after many adieux and promises to return, he tore himself away.

If he ever comes back, I'll poison him," thought Mr.Pott, as he turned into the little back office where he prepared his thunderbolts.

"If I ever do come back, and mix myself up with these people again,"thought Mr.Winkle, as he wended his way to the Peacock, "I shall deserve to be horsewhipped myself--that's all."His friends were ready, the coach was nearly so, and in half-an-hour they were proceeding on their journey, along the road over which Mr.Pickwick and Sam had so recently travelled, and of which, as we have already said something, we do not feel called upon to extract Mr.Snodgrass's poetical and beautiful description.

Mr.Weller was standing at the door of the Angel, ready to receive them, and by that gentleman they were ushered to the apartment of Mr.Pickwick, where, to the no small surprise of Mr.Winkle and Mr.Snodgrass, and the no small embarrassment of Mr.Tupman, they found old Wardle and Trundle.

"How are you?" said the old man, grasping Mr.Tupman's hand."Don't hang back, or look sentimental about it; it can't be helped, old fellow.

For her sake, I wish you'd had her; for your own, I'm very glad you have not.A young fellow like you will do better one of these days--eh?" With this consolation, Wardle slapped Mr.Tupman on the back, and laughed heartily.

"Well, and how are you, my fine fellows?" said the old gentleman, shaking hands with Mr.Winkle and Mr.Snodgrass at the same time."I have just been telling Pickwick that we must have you all down at Christmas.We're going to have a wedding--a real wedding this time.""A wedding!" exclaimed Mr.Snodgrass, turning very pale.

"Yes, a wedding.But don't be frightened," said the good-humoured old man; "it's only Trundle there, and Bella.""Oh, is that all!" said Mr.Snodgrass, relieved from a painful doubt which had fallen heavily on his breast."Give you joy, sir.How is Joe?""Very well," replied the old gentleman."Sleepy as ever.""And your mother, and the clergyman, and all of 'em?""Quite well."

"Where," said Mr.Tupman, with an effort--"where is-- she , sir?"and he turned away his head, and covered his eyes with his hand.

" She !" said the old gentleman, with a knowing shake of the head.

"Do you mean my single relative--eh?"

Mr.Tupman, by a nod, intimated that his question applied to the disappointed Rachael.

"Oh, she's gone away," said the old gentleman."She's living at a relation's, far enough off.She couldn't bear to see the girls, so I let her go.But come! Here's the dinner.You must be hungry after your ride.I am, without any ride at all; so let us fall to."Ample justice was done to the meal; and when they were seated round the table, after it had been disposed of, Mr.Pickwick, to the intense horror and indignation of his followers, related the adventure he had undergone, and the success which had attended the base artifices of the diabolical Jingle.

"And, the attack of rheumatism which I caught in that garden," said Mr.Pickwick, in conclusion, "renders me lame at this moment.""I, too, have had something of an adventure," said Mr.Winkle, with a smile; and at the request of Mr.Pickwick he detailed the malicious libel of the Eatanswill Independent, and the consequent excitement of their friend, the editor.

Mr.Pickwick's brow darkened during the recital.His friends observed it, and, when Mr.Winkle had concluded, maintained a profound silence.

Mr.Pickwick struck the table emphatically with his clenched fist, and spoke as follows.