Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 113: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Fe F _— A es -— + , bed, ard followed the Count through the window upon the ledge, which was happi- ly guarded by a parapet about three feet and ahalf high. we _ “Go back, you fool—go back,” vehe- mently exclaimed the Count, as the noise of Mr. Suodgrass’s descent upon the ledge fell on his ear. | ; “ But, my dear Count,” cried Mr. Snod- grass, remonstrating in a plaintive tone against the unceremonious injunction of his friend, while his shirt fluttered to the breeze of the chill morning. », His voice was lost in the air—the Count had turned the angle of the building—and not even his footsteps were any longer an- dible. Mr. Snodgrass struck his forehead - in despair; but as that did not relieve him ~ from his embarrassment, he thought it ag brat the re to return to his bed, and a of the : it the result of the visit of the police, He was about to adopt this rational method of proceeding, when a loud knock at the door of his chamber, and the clat- we of swords and the stamp of heavy oots in the passage beyond it, plunged him into such a state of alarm and trepida- tion, that, if there had been no parapet, he would have fallen from the ledge into the garden. The knocks were repeated; but Mr. Snodgrass’s tongue refused to utter the necessary words to bid the Gendarmes enter; so they adopted a more speedy though less ceremonious way of obtaining ingress to the apartment than waiting for its inmate to unlock the door, which they smashed into two or three pieces with one kick of a jack-boot. “Where is this Count Boloski?” de- manded the leader of the Gendarmes of Mr. Lawson, who accompanied them with a candle. ee Ae A low moan from the vicinity of the window, and the circumstance of that arti- ~ ele of convenience being open, attracted the Officer of the police to the spot; and his countered the shivering form ‘able Mr. Snodgrass. ‘The tall one is the Count, is he not ?” pr 9 the officer in excellent English. _ Mr. Lawson replied in the affirmative. “Then here he is to a certainty,” ob- served the Gendarme; and he put his foot upon a chair, to leap through the window and secure his prey. The appearance or the formidable cocked- hat at the of face in which whiskers and moustachios visual rays. : é _ en window, surmounting a WICK ABROAD. 101 were amongst the most prominent features, gave a sudden impulse and energy to the paralyzed limbs of Mr. Snodgrass. Reflec- tion was out of the question ; but in obedi- ence to the sudden dictation of his own alarms, he started and rushed along the . ledge, in the direction already pursued by the Count, with the speed of lightning. The Gendarme uttered a terrible oath in French, and sprang from the window after him. Mr. Snodgrass had already gained the angle before alluded to, and was pre- paring to turn round it, when an immense cat, whom the extraordinary apparition of a gentleman in his shirt had doubtless ter- rified, made so desperate an attack upon him, that, in the confusion and fresh ter- rors awakened by this unexpected on- slaught, he turned round to retrace his steps, and fell against the Gendarme, into his power, and then backwards upon the cold leads simultaneously. “Oh! let me die—let me die!” ex- claimed Mr. Snodgrass, whose mind had been worked up to.a pitch of almost po- etic frenzy by the occurrences of the night “let me die—I am a wretch not fit tp live !” “The devil!—he speaks English very well, though—this Polish Count,” exclaimed the Gendarme, as he proceeded to pick Mr. Snodgrass up and conduct bim back to his chamber. “Use no violence—I will follow you,” said Mr. Snodgrass, somewhat recovering his presence of mind and a little of his lost composure. ““Now dress yourself, and prepare to follow us to the guard-house,” cried the officer of Gendarmes, when he and his pri- soner had once more passed through the window. it “He’s no more a Polish Count than I am,” exclaimed Mr. Lawson, placing the candle upon the drawers. “He speaks English as well as I do.” “T am not a Count—I am an Englishman,” observed Mr. Snodgrass, sullenly, as he proceeded to put himself into his clothes. “T thought it was all a sham,” said the Gendarme. ‘ ~ “The Count himself has—’ began Mr. Snodgrass. _ “What? which Count? who?’ demanded the officer. : “Why, since the truth must be told,” continued Mr. Snodgrass, fancying that his friend had now had sufficient time to make EComiclooolks (Cl)