Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 367: what you’re looking at

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

| 304 Pickwick <A broad. ‘Proceed with your questions, Sir,” said the learned Commissioner very savagely, “‘and don’t bandy words with the Insolvent, or—” And Mr. Commissioner Buckphiz shook his pen with a sublime air of mysterious portent, at the opposing creditor—a movement that ex- cited the admiration of Messieurs Butler and Roughrow to an extraor- dinary degree. ‘‘ Did you not tell me that you were the intimate friend of Twankay Fum, the Great Cham of Tartary ?”? demanded Mr. Michael Nagsflesh of the Insolvent; “‘ and did you not also inform me that his Majesty, the Cham Twankay, had commissioned you to purchase a hundred horses for him im this country, and ship them on board a junk which you expected every day to arrive in the Pool ?” “ There’s some truth in that,” said Mr. Sugden, “TI scorn to tell a lie.” ‘‘ Well, it is about time to entertain that notion,” cried Mr. Nags- flesh. ‘* But wasn’t I fool enough to believe all you told me?” Mr. Sugden did not for one moment attempt to dispute his creditor’s right to this highly distinguishing and self-imposed title. _ ‘‘T repeat,” said Mr. Nagsflesh with emphasis, ‘“‘ wasn’t I fool enough to believe you 2” | Mr. Sugden again intimated that he was. | ; ‘¢ And didn’t you get me to go, for the first time in my life, to Mar- gate with you by the steam-boat ?”’ continued the horse-dealer; ‘‘ and didn’t you very confidentially point out a queer-looking, red-bottomed, foreign-kind of vessel lying at anchor at the mouth of the Thames? and, after all, wasn’t it nothing else but the Nore-light 2?” ‘Well, Sir, and what of that ?’”’ enquired Mr. Commissioner Buck- phiz, who began to feel the cravings of a good appetite, and recollected that he had ordered luncheon to be ready at half-past two o’clock. ‘What of that, Sir?’’ exclaimed Mr. Michael Nagsflesh, ‘* why, Sir, he swore that it was his junk come to fetch the horses for his friend the Great Cham.” | An agreeable tittering, varied by one or two right-down horse-laughs, _ welcomed this avowal; and when it had subsided, Mr. Nagsflesh pro- ceeded, : ‘‘Insolvent,” continued he, “* didn’t you also ask me to dine with you? and didn’t you promise to introduce me to some of the Great — Cham’s emissaries? and weren’t the people in the queer costumes that I met at your lodgings sheriff s-officers, who had possession of your person and your property ?”’ To all these demands a reply in the afhrmative was returned. “ Didn’t you say that one was Rumfooselem-beg, the Great Cham’s Master of the Horse ?’’ continued Mr. Nagsflesh ; ‘‘ that another was Ali Tantabogram, the Great Cham’s Pipe-holder and Peripatetic Tobacco-Stopper? And weren’t they no others, after all, than Slike and Buffer of Chancery Lane? ”’ ‘Very true,” replied Mr. Sugden with the utmost sang-/roid, as he again favoured his Counsel with a familiar nod of intelligence. ‘¢ And didn’t I let you have a couple of horses, in consequence of all these representations? Now, Sir, what became of those horses? I suppose you didn’t pawn them?” observed Mr. Nagsflesh with a complacent smile. thio ‘‘ They’re the leaders of the Opposition now,” replied Mr. William Sugden. E@RNIELOOOKS (EC)