Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

PIC. 48 Foremost who the Carlist lances With the banner-staff has met? Freedom’s votary advances, Venerable Lafayette ! Happy day! &c., &e. Triple dyes again combining, See the squadrons onward go: In the country’s heaven shining, Mark the various-colored bow ! Happy day! &c., &c. Heroes of that banner gleaming, Ye, who bore it in the fray ! Orleans’ troops! your blood was streaming Freely on that fatal day ! From the page of history We have learnt the gen’ral cry: Speed, warriors, speed, &c., &c. Muffied drum! thy musiclonely Answers to the mourner’s sighs; Laurels, for the valiant only, Ornament their obsequies ! Sacred fane of Liberty, Let their mem’ries never die! Bear to his grave Each warrior brave, Who fell in Freedom’s cause, his country’s rights to save. Crown’d with fame and victory ! “Charming novelty !” thought Mr. Tup- man within himself, as she concluded: and he would have doubtless sank into a deli- cious reverie, had not the fair Anastasie, in a sweet and amiable voice, requested to be informed what o'clock it might be by Mr. Tupman’s watch. The gallant and deeply- enamoured swain hastened to comply with the wishes of Mademoiselle de Volage, and accordingly produced his handsome gold repeater, the hands and the dial of which indicated the hour of one. “Oh! what a lovely watch, dat dere !” cried Mademoiselle Anastasie: “pray, make me see dat sweet ittle ting ;’—and with the most ingenuous playfulness, the young lady insisted upon Mr. Tupman’s taking off his watch and chain, and subject- ing them to her critical examination. ‘This request was immediately complied with, and the fair Anastasie scrutinized the valu- able repeater in a manner, and with an ex- pression of countenance, that seemed to ap- prove of Mr. Tupman’s taste in the selec- tion of little articles of jewellery. At the very moment when the enrap- tured lover was about to whisper some sweet compliment in the ears of the fair Anastasie, and compare her eyes to the deux trous rubis of his gold watch, or some such high-flown metaphor, one of the cross looking gentlemen inadvertently snuffed out the candle opposite to him, and the ‘WICK ABROAD. " ? a Marchioness as awkwardly extinguished the other in attempting to light the first, An extraordinary scene of confusion im:- mediately took place. Mr. Tupman was knocked from one side to another,—his carcase was the focus at which a hundred fists appeared to meet,—and in his agony he called in vain upon the fair Anastasie for relief. As he has subsequently declared, it appeared as if he were forcibly borne for- ward by three or four powerful individuals, and eventually shoved out of the front door into the passage, which was as dark as pitch. Dreading lest Mademoiselle de Volage might sustain any injury in a dis turbance which he firmly believed the cross gentlemen had created in a moment o1 ebriety, the gallant Mr. Tupman precipi- tated himself down the six flights of stairs, and rushed into the street for the purpose of alarming the police. The wicket of the porte cochere was closed violently behind ' him,—and there stood Tracy Tupman, alone, without his hat, minus his watch and a thousand franes—in a deserted street, at about half-past one o'clock in the morning. But he had no time for reflection— Anas- tasie was in danger—Anastasie was left with a set of drunken brawlers—Anastasie was his only care. Frantically did Mr. Tupman run up the street in the direction of the Rue de la Paix—vociferously did he call “Police! Police ?’—the echoes alone answered his appeal. At length he arrived in the street above mentioned, and there his cries alarmed the sentry at the guard- house opposite the Royal Stamp-Office. Mr. Tupman was accordinzly accosted by that functionary, who in vain endeavored to ascertain the meaning of the unfortunate Englishman’s signs and sayings, and who came to the very natural conclusion that the gentleman was drunk. Mr Tupman stamped and swore; the soldier shrugged his shoulders, smiled, muttered a terrible oath, and resumed his walk up and down in front of the guard-house. | What was to be done? the wretched Tracy Tupman saw that remonstrance ard clamor were useless, and bethought himself that if he could only manage to get as far as Meurice’s hotel, he might there explain his difficulties, and procure assistance to re- turn with him and rescue Anastasie from the violence of the drunken rioters. He accordingly approached the sentinel, ejacu- lated the words, “ Hotel Meurice,” several times, and’eventually succeeded in making EGOMIIGIOOKS Go