dear Sir,' said Mr. Pickwick, turning to Benjamin
Allen, 'is in London; well and happy.'

'Her happiness is no object to me, sir,' said Benjamin Allen, with a
flourish of the hand.

'Her husband IS an object to ME, Sir,' said Bob Sawyer. 'He shall be
an object to me, sir, at twelve paces, and a pretty object I'll make
of him, sir--a mean-spirited scoundrel!' This, as it stood, was a very
pretty denunciation, and magnanimous withal; but Mr. Bob Sawyer rather
weakened its effect, by winding up with some general observations
concerning the punching of heads and knocking out of eyes, which were
commonplace by comparison.

'Stay, sir,' said Mr. Pickwick; 'before you apply those epithets to
the gentleman in question, consider, dispassionately, the extent of his
fault, and above all remember that he is a friend of mine.'

'What!' said Mr. Bob Sawyer. 'His name!' cried Ben Allen. 'His name!'

'Mr. Nathaniel Winkle,' said Mr. Pickwick.

Mr. Benjamin Allen deliberately crushed his spectacles beneath the heel
of his boot, and having picked up the pieces, and put them into three
separate pockets, folded his arms, bit his lips, and looked in a
threatening manner at the bland features of Mr. Pickwick.

'Then it's you, is it, Sir, who have encouraged and brought about this
match?' inquired Mr. Benjamin Allen at length.

'And it's this gentleman's servant, I suppose,' interrupted the old
lady, 'who has been skulking about my house, and endeavouring to entrap
my servants to conspire against their mistress.--Martin!'

'Well?' said the surly man, coming forward.

'Is that the young man you saw in the lane, whom you told me about, this
morning?'

Mr. Martin, who, as it has already appeared, was a man of few words,
looked at Sam Weller, nodded his head, and growled forth, 'That's
the man.' Mr. Weller, who was never proud, gave a smile of friendly
recognition as his eyes encountered those of the surly groom, and
admitted in courteous terms, that he had 'knowed him afore.'

'And this is the faithful creature,' exclaimed Mr. Ben Allen, 'whom I
had nearly suffocated!--Mr. Pickwick, how dare you allow your fellow
to be employed in the abduction of my sister? I demand that you explain
this matter, sir.'

'Explain it, sir!' cried Bob Sawyer fiercely.

'It's a conspiracy,' said Ben Allen.

'A regular plant,' added Mr. Bob Sawyer.

'A disgraceful imposition,' observed the old lady.

'Nothing but a do,' remarked Martin. 'Pray he