halves in the commercial; there's these here painted tops in the
snuggery inside the bar; and five more tops in the coffee-room.'

'Nothing more?' said the little man.

'Stop a bit,' replied Sam, suddenly recollecting himself. 'Yes; there's
a pair of Vellingtons a good deal worn, and a pair o' lady's shoes, in
number five.'

'What sort of shoes?' hastily inquired Wardle, who, together with Mr.
Pickwick, had been lost in bewilderment at the singular catalogue of
visitors.

'Country make,' replied Sam.

'Any maker's name?'

'Brown.'

'Where of?'

'Muggleton.

'It is them,' exclaimed Wardle. 'By heavens, we've found them.'

'Hush!' said Sam. 'The Vellingtons has gone to Doctors' Commons.'

'No,' said the little man.

'Yes, for a licence.'

'We're in time,' exclaimed Wardle. 'Show us the room; not a moment is to
be lost.'

'Pray, my dear sir--pray,' said the little man; 'caution, caution.' He
drew from his pocket a red silk purse, and looked very hard at Sam as he
drew out a sovereign.

Sam grinned expressively.

'Show us into the room at once, without announcing us,' said the little
man, 'and it's yours.'

Sam threw the painted tops into a corner, and led the way through a
dark passage, and up a wide staircase. He paused at the end of a second
passage, and held out his hand.

'Here it is,' whispered the attorney, as he deposited the money on the
hand of their guide.

The man stepped forward for a few paces, followed by the two friends and
their legal adviser. He stopped at a door.

'Is this the room?' murmured the little gentleman.

Sam nodded assent.

Old Wardle opened the door; and the whole three walked into the room
just as Mr. Jingle, who had that moment returned, had produced the
licence to the spinster aunt.

The spinster uttered a loud shriek, and throwing herself into a chair,
covered her face with her hands. Mr. Jingle crumpled up the licence, and
thrust it into his coat pocket. The unwelcome visitors advanced into the
middle of the room. 'You--you are a nice rascal, arn't you?' exclaimed
Wardle, breathless with passion.

'My dear Sir, my dear sir,' said the little man, laying his hat on
the table, 'pray, consider--pray. Defamation of character: action for
damages. Calm yourself, my dear sir, pray--'

'How dare you drag my sister from my house?' said the old man.

Ay--ay--very good,' said the little gentleman, 'you may ask that. How
dare you, sir?--eh, sir?'

'Who the devil