The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens (black male authors txt) đ
- Author: Charles Dickens
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Upon the doctor, and the widow, the eyes of both Mr. Tupman and his companion had been fixed for some time, when the stranger broke silence.
âLots of moneyâold girlâpompous doctorânot a bad ideaâ good fun,â were the intelligible sentences which issued from his lips. Mr. Tupman looked inquisitively in his face. âIâll dance with the widow,â said the stranger.
âWho is she?â inquired Mr. Tupman.
âDonât knowânever saw her in all my lifeâcut out the doctor âhere goes.â And the stranger forthwith crossed the room; and, leaning against a mantelpiece, commenced gazing with an air of respectful and melancholy admiration on the fat countenance of the little old lady. Mr. Tupman looked on, in mute astonishment. The stranger progressed rapidly; the little doctor danced with another lady; the widow dropped her fan; the stranger picked it up, and presented itâa smileâa bowâa curtseyâa few words of conversation. The stranger walked boldly up to, and returned with, the master of the ceremonies; a little introductory pantomime; and the stranger and Mrs. Budger took their places in a quadrille.
The surprise of Mr. Tupman at this summary proceeding, great as it was, was immeasurably exceeded by the astonishment of the doctor. The stranger was young, and the widow was flattered. The doctorâs attentions were unheeded by the widow; and the doctorâs indignation was wholly lost on his imperturbable rival. Doctor Slammer was paralysed. He, Doctor Slammer, of the 97th, to be extinguished in a moment, by a man whom nobody had ever seen before, and whom nobody knew even now! Doctor SlammerâDoctor Slammer of the 97th rejected! Impossible! It could not be! Yes, it was; there they were. What! introducing his friend! Could he believe his eyes! He looked again, and was under the painful necessity of admitting the veracity of his optics; Mrs. Budger was dancing with Mr. Tracy Tupman; there was no mistaking the fact. There was the widow before him, bouncing bodily here and there, with unwonted vigour; and Mr. Tracy Tupman hopping about, with a face expressive of the most intense solemnity, dancing (as a good many people do) as if a quadrille were not a thing to be laughed at, but a severe trial to the feelings, which it requires inflexible resolution to encounter.
Silently and patiently did the doctor bear all this, and all the handings of negus, and watching for glasses, and darting for biscuits, and coquetting, that ensued; but, a few seconds after the stranger had disappeared to lead Mrs. Budger to her carriage, he darted swiftly from the room with every particle of his hitherto-bottled-up indignation effervescing, from all parts of his countenance, in a perspiration of passion.
The stranger was returning, and Mr. Tupman was beside him. He spoke in a low tone, and laughed. The little doctor thirsted for his life. He was exulting. He had triumphed.
âSir!â said the doctor, in an awful voice, producing a card, and retiring into an angle of the passage, âmy name is Slammer, Doctor Slammer, sirâ97th RegimentâChatham Barracksâmy card, Sir, my card.â He would have added more, but his indignation choked him.
âAh!â replied the stranger coolly, âSlammerâmuch obligedâ polite attentionânot ill now, Slammerâbut when I amâknock you up.â
âYouâyouâre a shuffler, sir,â gasped the furious doctor, âa poltroonâa cowardâa liarâaâaâwill nothing induce you to give me your card, sir!â âOh! I see,â said the stranger, half aside, ânegus too strong here âliberal landlordâvery foolishâveryâlemonade much better âhot roomsâelderly gentlemenâsuffer for it in the morningâ cruelâcruel;â and he moved on a step or two.
âYou are stopping in this house, Sir,â said the indignant little man; âyou are intoxicated now, Sir; you shall hear from me in the morning, sir. I shall find you out, sir; I shall find you out.â
âRather you found me out than found me at home,â replied the unmoved stranger.
Doctor Slammer looked unutterable ferocity, as he fixed his hat on his head with an indignant knock; and the stranger and Mr. Tupman ascended to the bedroom of the latter to restore the borrowed plumage to the unconscious Winkle.
That gentleman was fast asleep; the restoration was soon made. The stranger was extremely jocose; and Mr. Tracy Tupman, being quite bewildered with wine, negus, lights, and ladies, thought the whole affair was an exquisite joke. His new friend departed; and, after experiencing some slight difficulty in finding the orifice in his nightcap, originally intended for the reception of his head, and finally overturning his candlestick in his struggles to put it on, Mr. Tracy Tupman managed to get into bed by a series of complicated evolutions, and shortly afterwards sank into repose.
Seven oâclock had hardly ceased striking on the following morning, when Mr. Pickwickâs comprehensive mind was aroused from the state of unconsciousness, in which slumber had plunged it, by a loud knocking at his chamber door. âWhoâs there?â said Mr. Pickwick, starting up in bed.
âBoots, sir.â
âWhat do you want?â
âPlease, sir, can you tell me which gentleman of your party wears a bright blue dress-coat, with a gilt button with âP. C.â on it?â
âItâs been given out to brush,â thought Mr. Pickwick, âand the man has forgotten whom it belongs to.â âMr. Winkle,âhe called out, ânext room but two, on the right hand.â âThankâee, sir,â said the Boots, and away he went.
âWhatâs the matter?â cried Mr. Tupman, as a loud knocking at his door roused hint from his oblivious repose.
âCan I speak to Mr. Winkle, sir?â replied Boots from the outside.
âWinkleâWinkle!â shouted Mr. Tupman, calling into the inner room. âHollo!â replied a faint voice from within the bedclothes.
âYouâre wantedâsome one at the door;â and, having exerted himself to articulate thus much, Mr. Tracy Tupman turned round and fell fast asleep again.
âWanted!â said Mr. Winkle, hastily jumping out of bed, and putting on a few articles of clothing; âwanted! at this distance from townâwho on earth can want me?â
âGentleman in the coffee-room, sir,â replied the Boots, as Mr. Winkle opened the door and confronted him; âgentleman says heâll not detain you a moment, Sir, but he can take no denial.â
âVery odd!â said Mr. Winkle; âIâll be down directly.â
He hurriedly wrapped himself in a travelling-shawl and dressing-gown, and proceeded downstairs. An old woman and a couple of waiters were cleaning the coffee-room, and an officer in undress uniform was looking out of the window. He turned round as Mr. Winkle entered, and made a stiff inclination of the head. Having ordered the attendants to retire, and closed the door very carefully, he said, âMr. Winkle, I presume?â
âMy name is Winkle, sir.â
âYou will not be surprised, sir, when I inform you that I have called here this morning on behalf of my friend, Doctor Slammer, of the 97th.â
âDoctor Slammer!â said Mr. Winkle.
âDoctor Slammer. He begged me to express his opinion that your conduct of last evening was of a description which no gentleman could endure; andâ (he added) âwhich no one gentleman would pursue towards another.â
Mr. Winkleâs astonishment was too real, and too evident, to escape the observation of Doctor Slammerâs friend; he therefore proceededââMy friend, Doctor Slammer, requested me to add, that he was firmly persuaded you were intoxicated during a portion of the evening, and possibly unconscious of the extent of the insult you were guilty of. He commissioned me to say, that should this be pleaded as an excuse for your behaviour, he will consent to accept a written apology, to be penned by you, from my dictation.â
âA written apology!â repeated Mr. Winkle, in the most emphatic tone of amazement possible.
âOf course you know the alternative,â replied the visitor coolly.
âWere you intrusted with this message to me by name?â inquired Mr. Winkle, whose intellects were hopelessly confused by this extraordinary conversation.
âI was not present myself,â replied the visitor, âand in consequence of your firm refusal to give your card to Doctor Slammer, I was desired by that gentleman to identify the wearer of a very uncommon coatâa bright blue dress-coat, with a gilt button displaying a bust, and the letters âP. C.ââ
Mr. Winkle actually staggered with astonishment as he heard his own costume thus minutely described. Doctor Slammerâs friend proceeded:ââFrom the inquiries I made at the bar, just now, I was convinced that the owner of the coat in question arrived here, with three gentlemen, yesterday afternoon. I immediately sent up to the gentleman who was described as appearing the head of the party, and he at once referred me to you.â
If the principal tower of Rochester Castle had suddenly walked from its foundation, and stationed itself opposite the coffee-room window, Mr. Winkleâs surprise would have been as nothing compared with the profound astonishment with which he had heard this address. His first impression was that his coat had been stolen. âWill you allow me to detain you one moment?â said he.
âCertainly,â replied the unwelcome visitor.
Mr. Winkle ran hastily upstairs, and with a trembling hand opened the bag. There was the coat in its usual place, but exhibiting, on a close inspection, evident tokens of having been worn on the preceding night.
âIt must be so,â said Mr. Winkle, letting the coat fall from his hands. âI took too much wine after dinner, and have a very vague recollection of walking about the streets, and smoking a cigar afterwards. The fact is, I was very drunk;âI must have changed my coatâgone somewhereâand insulted somebodyâI have no doubt of it; and this message is the terrible consequence.â Saying which, Mr. Winkle retraced his steps in the direction of the coffee-room, with the gloomy and dreadful resolve of accepting the challenge of the warlike Doctor Slammer, and abiding by the worst consequences that might ensue.
To this determination Mr. Winkle was urged by a variety of considerations, the first of which was his reputation with the club. He had always been looked up to as a high authority on all matters of amusement and dexterity, whether offensive, defensive, or inoffensive; and if, on this very first occasion of being put to the test, he shrunk back from the trial, beneath his leaderâs eye, his name and standing were lost for ever. Besides, he remembered to have heard it frequently surmised by the uninitiated in such matters that by an understood arrangement between the seconds, the pistols were seldom loaded with ball; and, furthermore, he reflected that if he applied to Mr. Snodgrass to act as his second, and depicted the danger in glowing terms, that gentleman might possibly communicate the intelligence to Mr. Pickwick, who would certainly lose no time in transmitting it to the local authorities, and thus prevent the killing or maiming of his follower.
Such were his thoughts when he returned to the coffee-room, and intimated his intention of accepting the doctorâs challenge.
âWill you refer me to a friend, to arrange the time and place of meeting?â said the officer.
âQuite unnecessary,â replied Mr. Winkle; âname them to me, and I can procure the attendance of a friend afterwards.â
âShall we sayâsunset this evening?â inquired the officer, in a careless tone.
âVery good,â replied Mr. Winkle, thinking in his heart it was very bad.
âYou know Fort Pitt?â
âYes; I saw it yesterday.â
âIf you will take the trouble to turn into the field which borders the trench, take the footpath to the left when you arrive at
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