Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 219: what you’re looking at

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

172 Pickwick Abroad. to combat her modest but ill-sustained objections, and to pay fora couple of seats in the coupé of the diligence that was to start the same evening for St. Omers. He then wrote a note to Mr. Pickwick, to inform his friend that business of urgent importance compelled him to leave Paris at a moment’s warning, intending to consign it to the two-penny post just as the diligence should be about to start. When these admirable arrangements were completed, he accompanied his fair companion to the Prefecture de Police, for the purpose of having their passports signed for the place of their destination. The hands of every clock in Paris moved gradually onwards, and at length the important hour arrived when it was necessary to seek the diligence-office, and ascend the steps of the front department of the diligence itself. The morning had passed away as rapidly as time usually flies in that or any other case; and Mr. Tupman hailed with delight the prospect of extending his travels, and of journeying in the society of one whom he was resolved in due season and place to install in the enviable position of Mrs. Tracy Tupman. The five horses were attached to the vehicle—the conductor re- ceived his way-bill from the head clerk of the especial office to which he belonged—Mr. Tupman and Mademoiselle Anastasie were safely ensconced in their places, and the diligence was about to issue from the yard, when the arrival of another passenger caused it to stop for a moment. One seat only was vacant—and that was the third place in the coupé. The stranger accordingly secured it forthwith; but when he presented himself at the door, Mr. Tupman recognised, to his infinite dismay, the well-known form and features of Mr. Adolphus Crashem. | “God bless me!” exclaimed Mr. Tupman; “I really—-my dear Sir—” ‘‘Don’t disturb yourself, my dear fellow,” interrupted Mr. Crashem —for so we shall continue to call him, masmuch as so he chose to call himself—as he took a corner seat, and gave a nod of recognition to Mademoiselle de Volage, unperceived by that young lady’s admirer. ‘“‘ Very extraordinary encounter, this,’’ observed Mr. Tupman, as the diligence rolled beneath the archway of the great gate in the Rue Grenelle. | ‘¢ Vary,” coincided Anastasie. ‘¢ Accident —pure accident, old fellow,” cried Mr. Crashem. ‘I was obliged to give my respected sire the slip—he took me out of quod, you know, and wanted me to go back to England with him ; but, deuce a bit—as Sir Thomas Grinwell used to say; I know se- veral tricks each worth ten of that sort, and accordingly left him to shift for himself. But are you going to Calais ?” ‘“ No—Oh! no—TI intend to stop—that i1s—’’ stammered Mr. Tupman. ‘“¢ Don’t be alarmed, my dear fellow,” again interrupted Mr. Crashem. “Tam going to St. Omers, and if I can assist any of your plans, I would sooner do so than mar them. Did you never hear of my aa- ventures, when I ran away with the’ nineteenth daughter of the sixty-seventh sister ofthe great Cham of Tartary ?” Mr. Tupman was undecided how to answer this question. He cer- tainly could not tax his memory with the incident alluded to; and he cComichbooks: com