chair, and, seizing the black
bottle, drank the toast so heartily, that, the liquor being strong, he
became nearly as black in the face as the bottle. Finally, the black
bottle went round till it was empty, and there was so much shaking of
hands and interchanging of compliments, that even the metal-visaged Mr.
Martin condescended to smile.

'And now,' said Bob Sawyer, rubbing his hands, 'we'll have a jolly
night.'

'I am sorry,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'that I must return to my inn. I have
not been accustomed to fatigue lately, and my journey has tired me
exceedingly.'

'You'll take some tea, Mr. Pickwick?' said the old lady, with
irresistible sweetness.

'Thank you, I would rather not,' replied that gentleman. The truth is,
that the old lady's evidently increasing admiration was Mr. Pickwick's
principal inducement for going away. He thought of Mrs. Bardell; and
every glance of the old lady's eyes threw him into a cold perspiration.

As Mr. Pickwick could by no means be prevailed upon to stay, it was
arranged at once, on his own proposition, that Mr. Benjamin Allen should
accompany him on his journey to the elder Mr. Winkle's, and that the
coach should be at the door, at nine o'clock next morning. He then took
his leave, and, followed by Samuel Weller, repaired to the Bush. It is
worthy of remark, that Mr. Martin's face was horribly convulsed as he
shook hands with Sam at parting, and that he gave vent to a smile and an
oath simultaneously; from which tokens it has been inferred by those
who were best acquainted with that gentleman's peculiarities, that he
expressed himself much pleased with Mr. Weller's society, and requested
the honour of his further acquaintance.

'Shall I order a private room, Sir?' inquired Sam, when they reached the
Bush.

'Why, no, Sam,' replied Mr. Pickwick; 'as I dined in the coffee-room,
and shall go to bed soon, it is hardly worth while. See who there is in
the travellers' room, Sam.'

Mr. Weller departed on his errand, and presently returned to say that
there was only a gentleman with one eye; and that he and the landlord
were drinking a bowl of bishop together.

'I will join them,' said Mr. Pickwick.

'He's a queer customer, the vun-eyed vun, sir,' observed Mr. Weller, as
he led the way. 'He's a-gammonin' that 'ere landlord, he is, sir, till
he don't rightly know wether he's a-standing on the soles of his boots
or the crown of his hat.'

The individual to whom this observation ref