hispered Mr. Weller, looking cautiously round; 'my duty to
your gov'nor, and tell him if he thinks better o' this here bis'ness,
to com-moonicate vith me. Me and a cab'net-maker has dewised a plan
for gettin' him out. A pianner, Samivel--a pianner!' said Mr. Weller,
striking his son on the chest with the back of his hand, and falling
back a step or two.

'Wot do you mean?' said Sam.

'A pianner-forty, Samivel,' rejoined Mr. Weller, in a still more
mysterious manner, 'as he can have on hire; vun as von't play, Sammy.'

'And wot 'ud be the good o' that?' said Sam.

'Let him send to my friend, the cabinet-maker, to fetch it back, Sammy,'
replied Mr. Weller. 'Are you avake, now?'

'No,' rejoined Sam.

'There ain't no vurks in it,' whispered his father. 'It 'ull hold him
easy, vith his hat and shoes on, and breathe through the legs, vich his
holler. Have a passage ready taken for 'Merriker. The 'Merrikin gov'ment
will never give him up, ven vunce they find as he's got money to spend,
Sammy. Let the gov'nor stop there, till Mrs. Bardell's dead, or Mr.
Dodson and Fogg's hung (wich last ewent I think is the most likely to
happen first, Sammy), and then let him come back and write a book about
the 'Merrikins as'll pay all his expenses and more, if he blows 'em up
enough.'

Mr. Weller delivered this hurried abstract of his plot with great
vehemence of whisper; and then, as if fearful of weakening the effect
of the tremendous communication by any further dialogue, he gave the
coachman's salute, and vanished.

Sam had scarcely recovered his usual composure of countenance, which
had been greatly disturbed by the secret communication of his respected
relative, when Mr. Pickwick accosted him.

'Sam,' said that gentleman.

'Sir,' replied Mr. Weller.

'I am going for a walk round the prison, and I wish you to attend me.
I see a prisoner we know coming this way, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick,
smiling.

'Wich, Sir?' inquired Mr. Weller; 'the gen'l'm'n vith the head o' hair,
or the interestin' captive in the stockin's?'

'Neither,' rejoined Mr. Pickwick. 'He is an older friend of yours, Sam.'

'O' mine, Sir?' exclaimed Mr. Weller.

'You recollect the gentleman very well, I dare say, Sam,' replied Mr.
Pickwick, 'or else you are more unmindful of your old acquaintances than
I think you are. Hush! not a word, Sam; not a syllable. Here he is.'

As Mr. Pickwick spoke, Jingle walked up. He looked less miserable than
before, being