Pickwick Abroad; or, The Tour in France — page 363: what you’re looking at

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350 PICKWICK ABROAD. What wzs to be done? The case was urgent; and it struck Mr. Kallaway that if he could only make his appearance at the bottom of the stairs which communicated with the principal court-yard, he might still be enabled to obtain some answer. He accordingly put on his boots and hat, which the despoiler had left behind; and then looked round the room for something to attire his body withal. But nothing met his eye save the blankets. Nota moment was to be lost—all reflection was useless; and in another in- stant Mr. Kallaway had wrapped one of the blankets around his person, which, with the hat upon his head, and the boots appearing beneath the garment, had a most airy and singular appearance. ‘Now for it,” said Mr. Kallaway; and thus arrayed, he hastened down stairs to the door which looked into the court-yard. ‘“¢ Vell, you’re a rum un, you air!” exclaimed a livery-servant with uncommon ease of manner, as Mr. Kallaway appeared at the door near which he was loitering: ‘‘them’s raly unexpressibles vith a wen- geance. Out-an’-outers, I calls ’em.” “What, Mr. Pickwick’s servant !’’ cried Mr. Kallaway. ‘“‘ Blest if it ain’t Mr. Kallavay, though,” ejaculated Sam, as he touched his hat. ‘‘ But vot spree are you arter now, as the mouse said ven the cat came purrin’ at his hole ?” ‘“‘T’m in a dreadful dilemma, Sam,” began Mr. Kallaway, hastily. | ‘‘T calls it a blanket, Sir,” observed Mr, Weller, dogmatically. ‘But if you says its a di-lemmy, I vonder vot you’d svear a counter- pm vos.” ‘This is quite bad enough, Sam,” said Mr. Kallaway, with a sigh. “Then I s’pose a counterpin vould have been wusser,” re- marked Mr. Weller. ‘‘ But how the devil came you im this here per- dicament, as the nobleman said to his vife ven she returned home rayther groggy from a temperate society ?” ‘¢ And what brought you here ?”? demanded Mr. Kallaway, when he related his new adventures: for he forgot at the moment that his situation admitted not of delay in parlance. ‘“Vy, another of our gen’lemen is come to Jine us in Paris,” an- <wered Myr, Weller; ‘‘ and I'm come to fetch his portmanty and pay his bill. Short accounts make long friends, as the highvayman said to the gen’leman vich vouldn’t give up his purse.” “* Could you borrow me a suit of clothes, Sam? I would pay you handsomely,” enquired Mr. Kallaway, ‘‘ Sassage-maker at the corner o’ the next street,’’ answered Mr. Weller; ‘‘ an’ a wery nice man he is too. He’s the chap as milled the English prize-fighter t’other day, at Vood’s chop-house, and then jist polished off the landlord his-self ’cos he asked him to pay his bill. He’s a Englishman by birth, an’ exceeding proud his feller-countrymen is on him, to be sure.” ‘Well, well, Sam—do the best you can for me,” exclaimed Mr. Kallaway. ‘* My number is fifty-five, on the top-storey, up this stair- case :’”7—and with these words Mr. Kallaway retreated with the utmost speed to his chamber. ‘‘Rayther a queer go, that there, Sir,’ observed Mr. Weller to Mr. Lawson. ‘Beats cock-fighting all to shivers: O'Connell ain’t nothin’ to it.” Eomichbooks.co