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426 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF
a shabby-looking man in a brown great-coat shorn of diners buttons, who had been previously slinking about on the opposite side of the way, crossed over, and remained stationary close by. Having something more than a suspicion of the object of the gentleman's visit, Sam pre- ceded him to the George and Vulture, and, turning sharp round, planted himself in the centre of the doorway.
" Now, my fine fellow,'* said the man in the rough coat, in an impe- rious tone, attempting, at the same time, to push his way past.
"Now, Sir, wet's the matter?'* replied Sam, returning the push with compound interest.
- ' Come, none of this, my man ; this won't do with me," said the owner
of the rough coat, raising his voice, and turning very white^" Here, Smouch !"
" Well, wot's amiss here ? " growled the man in the brown coat, who had been gradually sneaking up the court during this short dialogue.
- ' Only some insolence of this young man's/' said the principal, giving
Sam another push.
" Come, none o' this gammon," growled Smouch, giving him another, and a harder one.
This last push had the effect which it was intended by the experienced Mr. Smouch to produce, for while Sam, anxious to return the compli- ment, was grinding that gentleman's body against the doorpost, the principal crept past, and made his way to the bar, whither Sam, after bandying a few epithetical remarks with Mr. Smouch, followed at once.
" Good morning, my dear," said the principal, addressing the young lady in the bar, with Botany Bay ease, and New South Wales gentility ; "which is Mr. Pickwick's room, my dear?"
" Show him up," said the bar-maid to a waiter, without deigning another look at the exquisite, in reply to his inquiry.
The waiter led the way up stairs as he was desired, and the man in the rough coat followed, with Sam behind him, who, in his progress up the staircase, indulged in sundry gestures indicative of supreme contempt and defiance, to the unspeakable gratification of the servants and other lookers on. Mr. Smouch, who was troubled with a hoarse cough, remained below, and expectorated in the passage.
Mr. Pickwick was fast asleep in bed, when his early visitor, followed by Sam, entered the room. The noise they made, in so doing, awoke him.
" Shaving water, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, from within the curtains.
" Shave you directly, Mr. Pickwick," said the visitor, drawing one of] them back from the bed's head. " I've got an execution against you, at the suit of Bardell. — Here's the warrant. — Common Pleas. — Here's my card. I suppose you'll come over to my house." And giving Mr. Pickwick a friendly tap on the shoulder, the sheriff's officer — for such he was — threw his card on the counterpane, and pulled a gold , toothpick from his waistcoat pocket. ^ 1
" Namby's the name," said the sheriff's deputy, as Mr. Pickwick took his spectacles from under the pillow, and put them on, to read the <3ard. " Namby, Bell Alley, Coleman Street."
